blogombal Page 64
Page 64
Zhao Hailun was taken aback by his easygoing attitude, but then she relaxed and couldn't help but complain, "Actually, it's just... a bit addictive? I feel like I've almost reached the ceiling of knowledge in a certain field, so I can't help but want to dig another hole in the next field and jump in. As a result, the more holes I dig, the more holes I get... and sleep time is basically a luxury."
She shrugged, her expression a mix of helplessness and smugness.
“I understand, I understand, it’s all about being eager to learn.” Hawke nodded in deep agreement, having gone through a similar phase himself. “The situation with Bates Capital is quite regrettable, but for us, it’s a great bargain.” He spoke sincerely. “Tell me about your ‘cradle of life’? The initial description in the email was already amazing, but I’d like to hear you tell me in person about its core highlights and its biggest bottleneck at this stage.”
When talking about her professional field, Zhao Hailun's whole demeanor lit up.
She instantly shed her infatuated demeanor, her eyes sharpened, her speech quickened, and her logic became clear. She started by discussing the targeted repair of nanoparticles, then moved on to the intelligent recombination of biopolymers, and finally to the challenges of coupling neural signals.
"The biggest bottleneck?" Zhao Hailun adjusted his glasses and said seriously, "One is precision. How can we make nanoparticles, like 'obedient soldiers'—520—precisely find their targets and execute repair commands within the complex biological environment? The other is energy supply and compatibility. The 'Cradle' needs a stable and powerful energy source to drive it, while avoiding violent repulsion with the host's own bioelectricity. Existing conventional energy sources or bio-batteries cannot achieve the ideal state..."
Hawke leaned forward slightly, listening intently, occasionally interjecting with a key question, his approach always extremely precise. In his previous life, Hawke was also a physics teacher at a top university, and had led teams to tackle several highly challenging scientific research projects. What seemed like an incomprehensible book to others, nanobiotechnology, was something he understood almost instantly.
Zhao Hailun could tell that Hawke was by no means a novice who didn't understand technology, which made her even more excited. She felt that she had found a rare "sugar daddy" who could understand what she was saying.
“I understand,” Hawke said, pausing for a moment. “It’s ambitious and very challenging. Lane Biotech needs a genius like you who can break down barriers between multiple disciplines. So, Dr. Zhao,” he changed the subject, his tone becoming more relaxed, “what kind of experimental conditions and treatment do you dream of? Speak freely.”
Zhao Hailun's heart was pounding; her chance had come!
She took a deep breath and presented a fairly reasonable, even somewhat conservative, budget, along with an independent laboratory, top-notch equipment support, and the requirement to bring a complete research team with her.
117. Interview perks? Or unspoken rules of the workplace?
After listening, Hawke tapped his fingers lightly on the sofa armrest. Instead of haggling, he said, "The budget is fine; we can increase it by 30% from what you said. The independent lab and your team have also been approved. We'll select a lab location for you. As for the equipment, you can make a list. However," he suddenly revealed a sly smile, "I have an additional condition."
"Additional conditions?" Zhao Hailun's heart skipped a beat, and she looked at him nervously.
Hawke picked up his coffee, took a sip, and looked at Zhao Hailun with a smile, saying slowly:
"The condition is... don't be so tense. Relax, I'm not going to eat you. Look how radiant you were when you were explaining the techniques, it was much better than this tense look."
These almost flirtatious words made Zhao Hailun's face turn even redder, and she could barely maintain her professional image.
"Huh? I... I wasn't nervous at all..." Zhao Hailun subconsciously wanted to refute, but her voice was a little weak and her eyes were unfocused.
"No?" Hawke put down his coffee cup and chuckled softly. "Then why is your face so red? Hmm?"
The last syllable rose slightly at the end, carrying a hint of mischief.
The air in the office seemed to become thick and ambiguous.
Zhao Hailun felt her rationality being melted away by the rising heat.
Faced with her idol, superhero, and future sugar daddy's close-up "all-out attack," her proud high IQ completely vanished, leaving only a barrage of comments like "So handsome," "So close," and "He's looking at me."
His infatuated nature was completely exposed.
"I...I'm just a little hot..." she muttered softly, unconsciously licking her slightly dry lips.
Before Hawke could react, she looked up, her eyes hazy yet filled with a reckless light, her voice trembling slightly but exceptionally clear, "Do you know... I'm a senior member of your 'King' fan club? I want to ask, what 'special privileges' do senior members get~?"
As soon as she finished speaking, Zhao Hailun, driven by a surge of passion, tilted her head back and kissed him!
What happened next seemed to be fast-forwarded, or like a long-brewing storm finally settling down.
In the chaos, Zhao Hailun's black pencil skirt was somehow pushed up, revealing the edge of her thighs outlined by stockings.
In the struggle, she kicked off one of her high heels, and her small ankle, encased in black stockings, swayed in the air.
After a long while, the storm subsided.
Only the two of them, still breathing heavily, remained in the office.
The sun was still shining brightly.
Zhao Hailun leaned softly against Hawke's chest, her cheeks flushed. Her suit was already in a sorry state, and her stockings had several holes in them. She looked like a satiated and languid rose that had been drenched by a torrential rain.
A moment later, her brain finally began to slowly reboot, realizing what had just happened—she had actually pushed her future boss, the superhero "King," down during the interview?!
OMG!
Is this considered... a job interview perk?
Or is it a workplace unspoken rule?
Although... it was her initiative...
Hawke's shirt was also wrinkled.
He leaned back on the sofa, one arm still around Zhao Hailun's waist, the other hand casually playing with her long hair that fell across his chest.
Looking at Zhao Hailun in his arms, who had a blank expression on her face, he felt that her current confusion was a hundred times more adorable than her shrewdness in her professional mode just now.
“…Ahem,” Hawke finally broke the silence, “Dr. Helen Zhao, is this the ‘special treatment’ you wanted? Hmm, quite hardcore. Did I pass the interview?”
Zhao Hailun lifted her head from his embrace, glared at him, her eyes shimmering with a hint of coquettishness rather than anger: "What do you think, Mr. Hawke? Do I have any choice but to sign a contract of servitude now?" She paused, then added softly, as if remembering something, "And... just call me Hailun."
“Deal, Helen.” Hawke smiled and tightened his grip on her arm. “Welcome to the Lane Corporation. Your lab can begin preparations tomorrow. I’ll also send you some materials to your email, a portion of some alien technology I’ve acquired, the part that aligns with your expertise. You can study it in your spare time.”
"Alien technology?" Zhao Hailun exclaimed, her eyes brimming with interest.
After seeing Zhao Hailun off, Hawke got up, stretched, and walked to the huge French windows.
There's an important dinner tonight—a New York charity gala. The Lane family is the most important sponsor and will be speaking at the start of the dinner.
Now that he has revealed his identity as the superhero "King," he will surely be even more sought after at the banquet, so he still needs to make sure he gets enough rest.
After all, tonight it's impossible to disappear for an hour or two every now and then like at the previous dinners.
Hawke checked the time; there was still plenty of time to "warm up" before the dinner officially began.
He grabbed a well-tailored dark suit jacket, left the office, and drove to the city hall.
The exclusive space on the top floor of the municipal building is more like a sky mansion than an office.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the Manhattan skyline was being bathed in the last golden hues of the setting sun.
As soon as Hawke pushed open the heavy oak door, a fragrant figure rushed towards him.
“Hawk! I thought you were held up by some female scientist from some lab!” The mayor’s daughter, Olivia Duncan, wrapped her arms around his neck, clearly having seen Hawke’s tweet recruiting beautiful female scientists, her tone slightly coquettish.
Today she wore a fitted black satin slip dress that accentuated her snow-white skin, and a few strands of her carefully styled curly hair playfully cascaded down her cheeks.
Compared to the "Columbia elite" image she presented to her mayor father, she was more like a burning flame at this moment.
"How could that be? The mayor's daughter summoned me, I'm on my standby." Hawke smiled as he caught her, then casually put his arm around her slender waist, and leaned down to kiss her smooth forehead, his expression a mix of playful tenderness and cynicism.
Suddenly, the two of them tripped and tumbled onto the large sofa covered with a soft cashmere blanket.
Olivia's passion was almost igniting; her kisses were filled with undeniable possessiveness, her fingers eagerly probing into Hawke's open shirt collar.
“Hawk…Hawk…” she murmured between breaths, her eyes hazy yet determined, “Let’s get married. Ryan and Duncan, just think about it, we’ll be the perfect team in New York! And not just tonight!”
She decided to use more passionate body language to seduce him.
118 Stark: You'll die from a woman sooner or later!
Hawke responded to her while chuckling softly, his chest heaving. "Wow, Ollie, skipping all the steps and going straight for the big move?" He casually wiped away the lipstick mark from the corner of her lips with his fingertip, his eyes mischievous. "'Marriage,' for now, is behind 'running for president' in my vocabulary."
Olivia glared at him angrily, her sharp eyes, inherited from her father, now filled with frustration and resentment: "Hawk Lane! You... bastard!"
But the next second, that little temper was overwhelmed by an even stronger surge of emotion.
As if to punish his escapism, or as if to prove that her existence was not to be ignored, she bit him hard again, like a sulking child hugging his most beloved but elusive teddy bear.
In the rooftop space, only the sound of rapid breathing and the dazzling lights of the city gradually illuminating the outside of the window remained.
When Hawke reappeared at the entrance to the brightly lit charity gala hall, there were only minutes left before his opening remarks.
He casually straightened his shirt collar and hair, which were slightly disheveled from the "battle" on the rooftop, and wore a lazy smile that suggested he had just finished exercising and felt refreshed, showing no sign that he had just experienced a storm on May 520th.
The banquet hall was already bustling with people, their elegant attire and graceful figures creating a vibrant atmosphere.
A huge crystal chandelier cast a warm golden light, and the air was filled with the unique aromas of fine perfumes, cigars, and champagne.
This place is home to the most elite wealth and power in New York and even the entire United States.
Hawke's appearance instantly attracted countless eyes.
"Look, it's Hawk Lane!"
"The heir to the Ryan family, the 'King' himself! Even more approachable than he appears in the news?"
"Young and promising...and handsome too..."
"I heard he was just upstairs with the mayor's daughter..."
Whispers spread like ripples. Hawke paid no attention, walking casually as if he were entering his own living room, nodding to several familiar faces.
A glance swept across the crowd, and several heavyweight figures exuded an aura of prestige:
Tony Stark was surrounded by a group of people, his signature mustache was meticulously trimmed, and he was wearing a deep burgundy velvet suit, exuding an air of ostentation.
He held a glass of champagne in one hand and gestured with the other, seemingly telling a joke, which made everyone around him burst into laughter.
(agei)
The woman beside him, Pepper Potts, dressed in a simple yet elegant white pantsuit, was looking at her boss and fiancé with a helpless yet doting smile.
Tony spotted Hawke and, across the crowd, raised his glass, mouthing "Cheers," with a hint of "Oh, it's over already?" in his eyes.
Justin Hammer was pacing anxiously near Tony, his overly shiny striped suit almost blinding under the lights.
He tried several times to join the Starks' conversation, waving his arms to introduce his new project, but Tony either pretended not to see it or deliberately changed the subject to tease Pepper.
Hammer caught sight of Hawke, his eyes lighting up as if he wanted to approach him, but then his attention was drawn to something Tony said, leaving him standing there in a dilemma.
The Osborne Group representative, a middle-aged director with slicked-back hair, was speaking in hushed tones with the powerful female banker from the Morgan family. When they saw Hawke, they both gave him standard business smiles and nodded in greeting, their eyes revealing pure self-interest.
The executive at Roxon Energy was a taciturn man with sharp, eagle-like eyes. He leaned against the bar, scanning the room as if observing prey.
Hawke's gaze met his briefly, and the other man nodded slightly, his eyes revealing undisguised wariness and a competitive spirit.
In addition, the crowd was dotted with several faces that frequently appear on Hollywood red carpets and the covers of top fashion magazines. Several supermodels, dressed in gorgeous gowns and holding champagne, were like moving works of art, attracting countless eyes.
"Hawk! You've finally shown up! We've been waiting for you!" Mayor Duncan's voice rang out with exaggerated enthusiasm. He walked over with a radiant face, patted Hawke on the back vigorously, and appeared extremely affectionate.
But Hawke keenly caught a quick glance out of the corner of his eye at Olivia walking in through the side door. Her makeup had been touched up, and she had regained her elegance and composure, but her gaze toward Hawke still carried a trace of lingering heat and resentment.
Mayor Duncan's smile froze for a fleeting, subtle moment before being masked by a formulaic grin.
“Uncle Duncan,” Hawke responded naturally, as if he hadn’t been the one “fighting” with someone’s daughter on the rooftop just moments before, “the timing is perfect, isn’t it?”
His smile was harmless.