Chapter 319 Endless Until You Beg

Chapter 319 Endless Until You Beg

Over the next few minutes, the crowd got a masterclass in what real chemistry looked like.

For the second phrase, Michael drew an open palm on the board with a gleaming gemstone resting in the center.

"The apple of my eye."

For the third phrase, Michael crouched down and sketched a withered branch, then added a small green sprout budding beside it.

"A new lease on life."

For the fourth phrase, Michael drew a transparent glass with the faint outline of a snake inside, and added motion lines showing someone drawing a bow.

"Seeing things that aren't there."

For the fifth phrase, Michael drew a sky, then sketched a hand reaching upward, grabbing the sun and replacing it with the moon.

"Steal the spotlight."

For the sixth phrase, Michael drew an open book with a thumbs-up beside the pages.

"Knowledge is power."

For the seventh phrase, Michael drew a person holding raw meat, with sharp teeth illustrated nearby.

"Back to the stone age."

For the eighth phrase, Michael drew a winding road and used arrows to mark three obvious turns.

"Twists and turns."

For the ninth phrase, Michael drew an eye with a bright gleam of light across it, adding an upward arrow beside it.

"Look with fresh eyes."

For the tenth phrase, Michael paused for two seconds, then drew a person rolling up their sleeve with clouds floating out from the cuff.

"Head in the clouds."

And just like that, the game was over.

Ten phrases. All correct.

Nearly a hundred people had gathered around, but the space had gone eerily quiet.

Because everyone was absolutely floored.

Wait—how was that even possible?

Ten phrases, thirty seconds allotted per phrase, which meant they'd been given a total of five minutes.

But in reality, Michael had barely finished each drawing before Amelia immediately called out the correct answer.

By the time the game ended, they'd used less than two minutes total.

Even if Michael's drawings were accurate, did Amelia seriously not need any time to think?

How could she look at a sketch and instantly know which phrase it was—without even guessing wrong once?

Simple phrases like "The apple of my eye" and "Twists and turns" were one thing.

But "Head in the clouds"? Most of the people standing there had never even heard that phrase before.

And Amelia had still gotten it immediately.

Her reaction speed and vocabulary were astonishing.

Amelia glanced at the booth owner through the murmurs around her. "Can we move to the next round?"

"Yes, yes, all of you follow me over here."

The booth owner quickly responded, but the way he looked at Amelia now was like he was staring at some kind of alien life form.

This was genuinely ridiculous.

Were high school students really this smart these days?

Amelia—this petite, delicate-looking girl—had cleared the first two rounds, and not just cleared them but achieved unprecedented perfect scores: every ring landed, every phrase correct.

But the third round? No matter how smart Amelia was, she wouldn't be able to help.

This round was push-ups. Whether they passed depended entirely on the boyfriend's physical stamina.

Guys who didn't exercise much or were on the heavier side had zero chance of doing forty push-ups in one minute.

But the booth owner took one look at the situation—

Three couples had made it to the third round, and all three of these girls' boyfriends looked like they were in solid shape.

Especially Amelia's boyfriend—those broad shoulders, narrow waist, and the tight definition in his arms and legs. That was clearly someone who worked out regularly.

Were all three couples actually going to make it to the final round? Was he about to lose money on this?

Even if they only walked away with a consolation prize, that was still worth something.

The more he thought about it, the more the booth owner's eyes darted around, scheming.

Amelia was chatting with Dorian and the others when her peripheral vision caught the booth owner reaching behind the timer as he laid out the mat, clearly adjusting something.

Amelia's brow furrowed. Michael noticed and looked down at her. "What's wrong?"

"That booth owner just messed with the timer," Amelia said, frowning. "I think he sped it up, since the next round is timed push-ups for one minute."

Michael glanced at the booth owner, his expression unreadable.

"Street game vendors like this often pull little tricks to avoid losing money. In the first round with the ring toss, he deliberately put the prize far away from you, probably thinking you wouldn't have the strength to throw that far."

"That's just dishonest business." Amelia's gaze darkened. She didn't like this kind of behavior at all.

"The game was already set up to be difficult. Under normal circumstances, not many couples even make it to the final round, and he's still cheating."

"In business, a lot of people are like this." Michael leaned closer to Amelia, his voice low and steady. "Don't worry, baby. Forty push-ups? I can finish that in thirty seconds."

His voice was deep, accompanied by warm breath that seemed to seep through her ear and straight into her nerves, making both her heart and her ears burn.

Amelia tilted her head slightly, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes as she raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you're that fast?"

Michael's movements paused for a moment. Seeing the bright, playful gleam in her eyes, he realized the double meaning.

The next second, he leaned in even closer, his lips barely grazing her earlobe before he whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, "If it's push-ups, yes, I'm very fast. But if it's something else… as long as you're willing, I can go for a very long time."

This was the first time Michael had actively brought up this kind of suggestive topic.

And he'd said it in an utterly serious tone.

Amelia laughed inwardly—of course. No man likes being called "fast," and Michael was no exception.

While they were talking, the first couple—the PhD students—had already started doing push-ups on the mat.

Just like Amelia had said, the booth owner had definitely tampered with the timer.

It looked fine on the surface, but he'd actually shortened one minute to about fifty-something seconds.

That kind of small difference was hard to notice.

And the couple doing push-ups had no mental bandwidth to pay attention to the timer. The onlookers were all focused on whether they could complete the task—no one was specifically watching the timer.

Amelia told Dorian and Asher about this, warning Asher to move faster when it was his turn. Asher confidently assured them that even if the time was shortened, he could absolutely finish forty push-ups.

The first couple only managed thirty-two within the time limit and didn't pass.

When Dorian and Asher took their turn, everything started smoothly. Asher's push-ups were fast.

But then something happened—Amelia watched as Asher, positioned over Dorian, turned bright red in the ears.

Before the time was even up, Asher suddenly stopped doing push-ups altogether and scrambled off the mat, his face completely flushed.