My Flash Romance With the Richest Mogul novel Chapter 1616

Paul sighed when he heard that the bracelet was supposed to attract romance.

Barbara was relentless in her attempts to meddle in his love life. One day, it was setting him up for a blind date; the next, it was giving him a charm bracelet to enhance his romantic prospects and improve his appearance.

Paul wondered if his mother thought he lacked charm and was incapable of finding a woman.

"Mom, I've already told you, when it comes to finding a girlfriend, I believe in fate. And honestly, it's hard to find someone who doesn't care about looks. Wait, no, scratch that—it's even harder to find someone who doesn't care about my money. Please, take the bracelet back," he said quickly.

He didn't want to wear any bracelet like that—it would ruin his image.

Barbara, however, was not pleased. "I spent all afternoon lining up to buy this for you, and you just refuse it? No way. Today, you're going to tell me the truth. Don't tell me you don't like women.

"Otherwise, what man doesn't want women after him? This nonsense about not caring about looks—if you really do care, just get plastic surgery. Money's not an issue.

"And those scars on your face—don't tell me they're for 'reminding yourself.' You've been feeding me all these excuses because you don't want a girlfriend, and you don't want to give me a grandkid to play with."

Barbara's words came out in a steady stream, her impatience clear. She wasn't going to let Paul dodge the subject.

Paul couldn't help but feel a little speechless. "Grandkids are for playing with?"

"Is that really the main point? Stop talking nonsense and just put the bracelet on."

With a shake of his head, Paul reluctantly took the bracelet. After all, it was a gesture of his mother's thoughtfulness. The bracelet was just a gimmick, not real jewelry.

It was only meant to fool children and his mother. If he wanted something for good luck, he could just ask Skylar.

But as he studied the bracelet more closely, he suddenly found himself unable to look away.

Alexander was staring intently at the paperweight on his desk, his gaze fixed and unblinking. Skylar sat down and followed his eyes to the object.

It was an old-fashioned paperweight, likely from the 18th century, with intricate carvings on its surface. Alexander spoke, "Do you notice anything strange about it?"

"Strange?" Skylar asked, immediately inspecting it more closely.

As soon as she looked at it, a vivid image appeared before her eyes. She saw a scholar dressed in rough, homespun clothes, writing fervently by candlelight.

Bathed in the warm glow of the candlelight or perhaps flushed from the long hours of focused writing, the scholar's face was visibly reddened.

Just a glance was enough to feel the scholar's frustration—a frustration born from participating in three rounds of examinations but still could not fulfill his dreams. His anger burned bright, directed at his fate.