Resurrecting the Genius Within (Calypso Rain) novel Chapter 439

Resortecting the Bacabra Wirbely 

Chapter 439 Tastes Like a Sewer 

Isabelle said, “Get into the bed and get some sleep. 

These days, George had been sitting on a chair and sleeping by the bedside, hardly sleeping at all. 

George declined. “The bed is too small.” 

Isabelle said, “I feel cold sleeping alone.” 

George reached into the blanket and felt around. There was hardly any warmth inside, and her hands were freezing cold. 

George lifted the blanket off her body, took off his coat that still had warmth, and covered her with it, then covered her with the blanket. 

He then turned off the light and lay down on the bed. 

With the bed being too cramped, George had to sleep on his side. 

George asked, “Can I hold you while we sleep?” 

Isabelle replied, “Give it a try.” 

George said, “Okay.” 

With his arm wrapped lightly around Isabelle’s waist over his coat, he drew her close, attempting to warm her body. 

Isabelle remained silent. 

After about ten minutes, George asked her, “Feeling warmer?” 

Isabelle didn’t respond, possibly already asleep. 

Inside the little house, all was quiet, the two figures on the small bed huddled together for warmth, the distant murmur of neighbours next door seeming worlds 

away. 

Suddenly, Isabelle’s voice broke the silence, “In that castle, there were only Clubs and Moon Shadow originally. I was stronger than them, and I had a backup plan. I 

could hama 

Chapter 439 Tastes Like & Sewer 

George asked, “Did something unexpected come up?” 

Someone unexpected had to be involved, probably related to Storm Shadow. 

Isabelle stared at the dark sky above, Clubs‘ words echoing in her mind: ‘Storm Shadow died for you.’ 

She wanted to talk to George about it but didn’t know how. 

She stayed silent for a while, feeling her emotions shifting. George leaned his forehead against hers, “It’s late, let’s not dwell on it now. We’ll talk when you’re feeling better.” 

Isabelle slowly turned her face towards him. 

Their eyes met in the darkness. 

George gently kissed her forehead. 

Isabelle turned her face away, looking back up, her tone casual yet a bit playful, “I’ve heard a lot about Mr. Qin being innocent in matters of love. I originally thought Mr. Qin would be the passive one in relationships.” 

After all, she had made the first move both times, even initiating the kiss before they went to Aviara. 

Isabelle commented with an odd tone, “You seem to be getting more proactive.” 

George chuckled awkwardly and retorted, “I thought Miss Jenkins was emotionally mature, didn’t expect her to be so innocent.” 

Isabelle, Am I innocent? 

George continued, “Miss Jenkins’s proactive moves are quite limited.” 

The following day. 

George had the young boy deliver a new blanket. 

The blanket wasn’t thick, but it was warmer and more comfortable than what Isabelle was using, and it was clean. 

Isabelle woke up in a haze to find George coming in with a blanket. Through the 

Chapter 439 Tastes Like a Sewer 

wide–open door, the young boy caught a glimpse of Isabelle and exclaimed with envy, “Your wife is really pretty.” 

George agreed. “Yeah.” 

Before the boy could say more, George shut the door. 

Turning back, he found Isabelle wide awake, staring at him. 

“You’re awake.” He thought, Got caught again. What rotten luck. 

But this time, George seemed calmer. He pulled the blanket out of the bag, saying, “I’ll change the bedsheet for you.” 

Weak and seeming too tired to argue, Isabelle just said, “Next time, don’t take such risks.” 

A kid from the slums buying a blanket would draw too much attention. 

George nodded. “Got it.” 

George helped her change the blanket, then poured her a glass of water, saying, “I made chicken soup for you to nourish your body.” 

The little stove in the corner was working hard, and Isabelle, catching the aroma of the chicken soup, muttered, “Fishy.” 

George also noticed the fishy smell. “If only we hadn’t lost the phone, we could have looked up the cooking method. Maybe it would have turned out better.” 

As a beginner, George had been experimenting with cooking on his own these past. few days. 

Once the chicken soup was cooked, George cautiously took a sip as if testing for poison. After adjusting the taste for a while, it still didn’t meet his expectations. Holding the bowl, he looked somewhat conflicted. “It’s a bit bad. Want a taste?” 

Isabelle asked, “How bad is it?” 

Taking another sip, George couldn’t quite describe it.