Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 1080: This Is What I Want

In the past, when Aquarelle Vaughn was in another country, no one knew her origins; they only knew she was a special professor from Speisen and likely of K Country descent.

Although they admired this doctor, when she was attacked by some at international forums, due to her identity, they found it hard to stand up for her.

But now it’s different.

The Divine Doctor, Aquarelle Vaughn, is from S Country. From cancer cell inhibitors to now hypertension special medications, her contributions to patients are countless, and her achievements are undeniably significant.

Anyone who has benefited from her is grateful.

The officials of the Foreign Ministry dare to stand firm against J Country, always rejecting their requests. Apart from the fact that the evidence provided by J Country is completely unreasonable, the main reason is protective of their own.

How can they casually let anyone bully the treasure they protect so dearly?

This is also why despite the international web almost exploding over the issue with the antidote, there is no noise domestically.

J Country now wishes to acquire the antidote formula without any trouble, but they must ask if Ann Vaughn agrees or not.

J Country, with no options left, has to swallow their pride and contact Ann Vaughn.

Ann Vaughn had heard about the situation in the Hesperian Region but hadn’t expected J Country to have lost the formula and now seek her help.

They couldn’t recreate the contents of the formula, which didn’t surprise Ann Vaughn at all.

Knowledge has precedence, and expertise has specialization. Unless someone has extremely high achievements in Chinese medicine, even if the required quantity of medicinal ingredients is remembered, messing up the procedures would lead to fatal consequences.

"Miss Vaughn, we sincerely apologize for recklessly slandering you before, and we hope you can disregard past grievances and lend a hand to the people of J Country. This kindness will be forever remembered by J Country."

Ann Vaughn casually smoothed her long hair, sat up from the bed, and said lightly, "I accept your apology but will not forgive you. As for the formula, I’ll give you a response after reviewing the test report."

The counterpart thought it would take a considerable effort to persuade Ann Vaughn, even thinking she would take revenge on ordinary J Country citizens for their previous actions and adamantly refuse their request.

Unexpectedly, she easily relented.

It seems that no matter how powerful she is, she wouldn’t dare offend a significant country, would she?

The counterparty suppressed their pride and disdain, "Alright, I will immediately send the report to your email. Please hold on."

"Hmm."

Ann Vaughn hung up the phone, got up, walked to the computer, and clicked on the blinking email icon at the bottom right.

The virus resurgence in the Hesperian Region should not be accidental. This virus can spread through the air, and with one case, half of J Country could be overrun overnight.

If manageable, it indicates that this round of the OX virus is not as potent as before, perhaps even nonfatal.

Someone... seems to want to teach them a lesson.

After reading the virus test report sent by J Country, Ann Vaughn’s bright eyes flickered slightly, confirming her speculation.

With this, there was nothing to worry about.

Just as J Country eagerly awaited Ann Vaughn sending the formula, they suddenly received unwelcome news.

To prevent another framing incident, Ann Vaughn had handed the formula to The National Research Institute for recording and monitoring to ensure the formula she provided was without issues.

This action inevitably takes more time than before, and the greater the number of infected in J Country, the larger the ensuing panic.

More importantly, after seeking help from both the Foreign Ministry and Ann Vaughn, J Country now needs to request aid from The National Research Institute. They cannot show anger and must be extremely humble to prevent delays in receiving the formula.

J Country finally realized what it means to lift a rock only to drop it on one’s own foot, bringing this upon themselves.

...

After finally resolving the formula issue, Ann Vaughn lifted the quilt intending to sleep, but her phone rang again.

... Don’t these people have a sense of time?

Ann Vaughn rubbed her aching head and reached for the phone, "Hello?"

"Annie." Warren Vance’s soft voice came through the phone amid gusty winds, as if in a high place, "Today is my ascension ceremony."

"... Congratulations?"

"You’re truly indifferent, aren’t you? Do you not have anything else to say to me?"

Ann Vaughn collapsed onto the pillow and yawned, "What you want to hear, I may not say; what I want to say, you may not like to hear. Why would I waste my breath?"

Warren Vance was briefly stunned, then laughed contentedly, "So blunt, aren’t you afraid of hurting my feelings?"

"Do vampires have feelings?" Ann Vaughn reflexively asked.

The wind howled on the other end of the phone, and after a long pause, Warren Vance’s gentle voice came through, "If there were no heart, what would one use to love you?"

If someone else said this, Ann Vaughn might feel a bit embarrassed.

But when Warren Vance said it, she thought it was pure nonsense.

"Did you call at this late hour just to verbally flirt with me?" Ann Vaughn turned over, clutching the quilt, with a frown enduring the aching in her abdomen.

"I just wanted to hear your voice." Warren Vance chuckled, "On such a grand day, without you by my side, it feels a bit lonely."

His tone was so light that Ann Vaughn could not tell if he was joking or speaking sincerely.

After two seconds of silence, Ann Vaughn asked, "Warren Vance, is that position... truly what you want?"

He was not Queen Manfrieda’s biological son.

Yet, because of a promise made long ago, he had been bound to the position of Crown Prince Gothasen for over twenty years.

Now, he will again be imprisoned by the crown until the moment of "death" arrives, unable to step down from the high throne.

His honor, his power, his everything is firmly tied to Gothasen.

Ann Vaughn did not understand.

That the word promise could easily bind someone like Warren Vance, who has always acted as he wished and disregarded everything.

Warren Vance knelt on the tallest spire of Gothasen, one leg dangling off the edge, his body leaning back, taking in the entire view of Gothasen.

The night wind howled, causing the pure white royal attire he wore to flurry.

"Annie, do you think Gothasen is beautiful?" Warren Vance suddenly asked.

Ann Vaughn didn’t know why he suddenly asked this, but she answered truthfully, "Very beautiful, like another paradise on earth."

"Then do you like it here?"

"It’s... alright, why?" Ann Vaughn cautiously replied, unsure of his motive.

Warren Vance supported his chin and chuckled, his voice seemingly melding into the wind, gentle and ethereal.

"This is what I want."