Chapter 270 He Is an Eight-Year-Old Child

“Caden, why do you...?” Humbert reacted and extended his hand to Caden who was on the bed.

“Don’t touch me!” Caden shrank back in fear. Ingemar came up to him. Ingemar was afraid that Caden
would tear the wounds.

“Caden, don’t move! Be careful of your wounds.”

Caden was more excited. He didn’t care that he was putting on a drip. He waved his arm towards
Ingemar who came up to him.

“Caden, what’s wrong with you? It’s me! I’m Ingemar!”

Humbert grabbed Ingemar who was about to come up to Caden again. “Calm down. Caden’s strange.”

“Who are you? Get out! Get out!” Caden acted like a child. He was scared. He looked at them. They
surrounded his bed. When he saw the only woman beside him, he stopped.

Regardless of the various tubes that were stuck in his body, he jumped into Grace’s embrace. The
others were astonished.

Caden said sadly, “Miss, I’m scared.”

Grace was surprised. She looked down at him inch by inch. Caden was calling for help in her arms.

The others were also surprised at what had happened.

“Is that … Caden?” Ingemar asked doubtfully. Others were as doubtful as Ingemar.

Humbert was worried. He shouted, “Quick! Inform Professor Luther.”

Professor Luther was Caden’s attending doctor.



“Miss, can you let them leave?”

Grace looked at Caden’s handsome face. He acted like a child. She noticed that he grabbed her
clothes tightly. She was in a daze. Was he Caden?

When Professor Luther came, he noticed that Caden was strange. Caden was on the bed. Caden
refused to cooperate with Luther, grabbed Grace’s clothes tightly and refused to let go.

Professor Luther could do nothing. “Mr. Shaw refused to cooperate.”

Then they looked at Grace. She was embarrassed. Caden refused to cooperate. She could do nothing.

“He only listens to you,” Humbert said indifferently.

His meaning was obvious.

Under their gazes, Grace sighed. She compromised to coax the child-like Caden.

She felt that she wasn’t facing a mature man, but an ignorant child.

It turned out that...

“Mr. Shaw doesn’t remember anything.”

Humbert was a paramedic. He was suitable to talk with Professor Luther. “Do you mean that he lost his
memory?”

“No. For some unknown reason, Mr. Shaw’s IQ and cognition have deteriorated to the age of an eight-
year-old child.”



Humbert was solemn. “Does that mean he only has the comprehension and cognitive abilities like an
eight-year-old child?”

...

Professor Luther said regretfully, “Don’t worry. He may recover as time goes or he may recover
because of the stimulation.”

This was a consolation. Humbert knew that. Perhaps Caden would be cured in one or two months.
Perhaps he would be cured in three to five years. It might be longer.

“Luckily, Mr. Shaw has woken up. His vital signs are normal.”

Professor Luther left the ward.

Grace looked at Caden on the bed. She was familiar with his face, but she was unfamiliar with his
expression. He was cautious like a child who made mistakes.

“Miss, did I make you unhappy?”

Grace felt bitter. She shook his head with a complicated expression.

“Why are you unhappy?”

He was innocent like a child. She turned around awkwardly.


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