Chapter 102


    “Shawn, what are you staring at?” Delh asked, noticing her husband fixated on the cab next to


    them, a curious tinge coloring her voice,


    Shawn, of course, wasn’t about to reveal the true wanderings of his mind. He leisurely shifted his gaze


    away from the cab, his voice revealing nothing out of the ordinary, “Just wondering if having the


    cab here is messing with the room’s energy flow,”


    Delh felt exasperated at his words, her toneced with sarcasm as she retorted, “Seems to me


    you’re the one blocking the energy flow standing there.”


    Shawn was indeed beside the TV stand, and while he had kept a decent shape over the years, ack


    of exercise meant he was a bit on the fuller side. Thankfully, his height meant that even a little extra


    width didn’t make him look too out of shape.


    Hearing his wife’s Jab, he feigned injury and shuffled aside,menting, “Ah, to think I was quite the


    looker back in my day.”


    He turned to his daughter, Mirabe. “Honey, you got any of those diet shakes?”


    Mirabe’s brow twitched. “Dad, you just need to exercise. How about joining me for a morning jog?”


    Shawn’s head shook vehemently at the suggestion as if she’d proposed something horrendous. “No,


    no, no, I still feel pretty spry as it is. No need for morning jogs.” After decades without exercise, running


    was practically a death sentence for him. No way, he’d rather stay a little round.


    “I think Mira’s suggestion isn’t half bad,” Delh chimed in, nodding earnestly.


    “Can’t win with you two. I’m off to my room,” Shawn grumbled, then turned to open the nearby cab.


    He pulled out a wooden box, cradling it like treasure as he left.


    Delh watched her husband’s actions with a puzzled murmur, “What’s Shawn up to now?”


    Mirabe just smirked enigmatically. The old man was still pretty adorable.


    The next day, at 10 a.m., the BrainSpark Nationals city–level prelim results were published.


    As soon as the clock struck ten, Jenna eagerly whipped out her phone, tapping into the website while


    rapidly asking, “Queen Mira, give me your contestant number. I’ll check your score.”


    Mirabe tilted her head, tossing out her contestant number in anguid drawl. Jenna entered it and hit


    search. Perhaps due to the slow update of the website data and the sheer number of inquiries, the


    page took a while to load. When the score finally popped up, Jenna’s eyes went wide, and to make


    sure she wasn’t seeing things, she zoomed in on the disy.


    “Holy cow, Queen Mira, you’re a genius! Two hundred points!” Jenna waspletely bbergasted.


    The written exam was worth 150 points, and the three live questions together were 60 points, making


    the total possible. score 210. Mirabe had scored a whopping 200!


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    What kind of genius was her?


    With only a written test, the prelims made a perfect score somewhat conceivable, and the questions


    wereparatively easy. But the city–leve! prelims were a different beast altogether, harder with the


    addition of live questions. Scoring perfect was nearly impossible.


    So, a score of 200 out of 210 was even more sensational than Mirabe’s perfect score thest time.


    Unaware of Jenna’s mental gymnastics, Mirabe seemed puzzled at the score, “Only two hundred?”


    She had expected a perfect score, after all.


    “Only?” Jenna looked at Mirabe, who seemed dissatisfied with her score, and blinked, “Queen Mira,


    you’re really a


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