**Chapter 224: Play Dead When Necessary**  

**Duncan's Apartment.** 

"Further education?" 

As soon as Max heard this, he shook his head vigorously. "Come on, don't joke around." 

"Why not?" 

Adam smiled. 

"I'm just not cut out for it." 

Max spoke with a hint of self-doubt. "I didn't even get my high school diploma. Attending community college is already a stretch for me, and now you're talking about a real university?" 

"You can always get your high school diploma later." 

Adam toyed with Max's **Maxam**, encouraging him, "The key question is—do you love drawing? Do you still dream of becoming a real children's book illustrator?" 

"Of course, I do." 

Max answered without hesitation. 

"Then that settles it." 

Adam grinned. "With just what you're learning at community college, it'll be hard to land your dream job. So why not go to a university, refine your skills, and become so impressive that no one can doubt you?" 

"But…" 

Max was tempted, but he still shook his head. "I just can't. I like drawing, but that doesn't mean I'm good at it. There are plenty of students at Greenfield Community College who are way better than me. There's no way I could get into a university." 

"Talent is definitely important." 

Adam nodded. 

"See?" 

Max let out a sigh of relief, but deep down, he felt a tinge of disappointment. 

After all, this was the first time someone had encouraged him to chase his dreams. 

"But speaking of talent…" 

Adam played with **Naxan**, teasingly saying, "Who could be more gifted than you?" 

Over the past two weeks, Adam had secretly compared Max with Heather. 

In terms of looks and figure, Max was no match for Heather. 

But when it came to natural talent, they were neck and neck. 

However, when it came to driving, Max was in a league of his own, far beyond any competition. 

Sometimes, Adam himself couldn't keep up and could only admire Max's skills, jokingly calling her a "master driver." 

And to think—she was only 19, barely an adult. 

That alone spoke volumes about the kind of life she had lived before. 

"Oh, come on!" 

Max, now **Naxan**, gasped and smacked Adam hard. "Are you insane? This isn't a balloon, but it can still explode!" 

Seeing Adam laughing mischievously, Max rolled her eyes and complained, "People always say big boobs mean no brains. Just look at me—I couldn't even graduate high school. Isn't that normal? And you think I should go to university with *this* kind of talent? Should I bribe my way in? Or are you suggesting I sleep my way up?" 

"Alright then, let's forget about talent." 

Adam changed the subject. "A lot of times, hard work is more important than talent. You're studying art, which is all about technique—something you can master with enough practice. It's not like math, where if you don't understand a formula, you're just stuck." 

"Says who?" 

Max argued, "Even top-tier artists rely on talent and inspiration. If hard work alone was enough, there wouldn't be so few masters." 

"Well said." 

Adam nodded with a smile. "So… your goal is to become a master?" 

"…" 

Max froze. 

How could he even dare to dream of becoming a master? 

He just wanted to be a decent illustrator, to one day create a great children's book. That would be more than enough. 

And that, he realized, didn't require innate talent—just hard work and persistence. 

"We don't need to become masters." 

Adam spoke gently. "It's enough to work hard and become a great illustrator, don't you think?" 

"Oh, is that so?" 

Max smirked. "Well, I think I've had enough rest. Can you keep up or not?" 

She shot Adam a provocative look. 

"Heh." 

Adam chuckled. He knew she was just trying to change the subject, but he decided to play along and let her off the hook. 

When it's time to play dead, just play dead—never bite off more than you can chew. 

--- 

**Two hours later.** 

Adam sat up, leaning against the headboard, and picked up a medical book to read. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Max and couldn't help but smile. 

Earlier, Max had deliberately provoked him to avoid the conversation. But now, she was staring blankly at the ceiling, wearing the same dazed expression that Amy had after Sheldon finally drove for the first time on their eight-year anniversary night. 

Adam knew Max had achieved her goal of changing the subject. 

It wasn't that he had forgotten or lost interest—it was just that even if he had the energy to keep asking, Max had absolutely no strength left to answer. 

In fact, with her classic "Amy look," Max didn't want to say a single word. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling. 

This time, she didn't even need to play dead. 

Before long, she completely passed out. 

--- 

**The Next Morning.** 

**Morning jog.** 

"Hey, how are things going with Max? When are we all getting together for dinner?" 

Monica asked. 

Ever since she went back to work, she had rejoined the morning jogging group. 

Although she found cosplay costumes annoying, she had gotten used to them. It was just part of the job. 

Sometimes, people need to work—it gives them a sense of purpose. 

Just like how everyone longs for weekends and holidays during work, but when the break lasts too long, they start itching to get back to work. 

Since returning to work, Monica—though still a bit annoyed—was clearly more energized. 

The ambitious and ever-caring Monica was back. 

"Let's wait a little longer." 

Adam smiled. "By the way, when you go to work today, can you call in for her? She won't be able to make it." 

"What happened?" 

Monica asked with concern. "Is she sick?" 

"You don't get it?" 

Chandler smirked knowingly. 

"Get what?" 

Monica was confused. 

"Normally, even if she had something going on, wouldn't she call in herself?" 

Chandler wiggled his eyebrows. "So why is Adam doing it for her this time? Think about it." 

"You mean…" 

Monica covered her mouth, eyes wide in shock. 

"Of course! Adam, am I right?" 

Chandler asked, grinning. 

"She had a bit of trouble sleeping last night, went to bed really late. She probably won't be waking up until at least 9 or 10." 

Adam described it subtly and smiled. "I figured I'd let her rest. No point in exhausting herself." 

"Well, aren't you considerate." 

Monica scoffed. "That's a bit over the top, don't you think? Are you even human?" 

People say it's never the field that's overworked—it's the bull that's exhausted. 

But that's not always true. 

What if the bull is *a demon king*? 

"You played a role in this too." 

Chandler added, twisting the knife. "Your seven-step combination method is seriously amazing." 

"Ugh, stop it." 

Monica rolled her eyes. "If Susie hadn't personally thanked me, I'd honestly regret ever sharing it with you guys—especially *you*, Adam!" 

No one understands women better than other women. 

Monica had carefully devised a seven-step combination method, and Susie had given it a glowing five-star review. 

When she experienced it firsthand, she had grabbed Monica's hands in heartfelt gratitude. 

"You don't have to worry." 

Adam smirked. "I haven't even had the chance to use *your* method yet." 

Monica: "…" 

Chandler: "…"