At this moment—
The young girl, Amy, felt a sudden surge of emotions toward Adam.
Meanwhile, Adam simply wanted to befriend Amy and earn 4+ intelligence points.
How would this turn out?
Adam wasn't optimistic.
If he tried to establish a friendship with Amy, he had no doubt it would send the wrong signal.
Amy would likely set her sights on Adam in advance.
Then, she might even confess to him:
"Standing before you is 130 pounds of boiling female hormones, eager to embrace your glutes and engage in what Shakespeare once metaphorically described as a beastly affair."
Adam was no Zack. No matter how good an actor he was, his intelligent eyes could never pull off a blank, clueless expression.
Besides, as a well-known writer, Amy wouldn't believe Adam was as foolish as Zack either.
Moreover, at this moment, Amy didn't have Sheldon as a boyfriend to encourage her to follow the call of her endocrine system. Even if Adam managed to perfectly mimic Zack's bewildered face, it didn't mean Amy would back off.
Right now, she was still just a girl—not the highly rational neuroscientist she would become a decade later.
If Adam rejected her, there was no doubt—he could forget about being friends, and the 4+ intelligence points would be gone too.
But if he didn't reject her?
Even though Amy dressed conservatively at her mother's request, making her seem old-fashioned, she hadn't yet reached 130 pounds. Upon closer look, she was actually a delicate and refined young girl.
Not a stunning beauty, but attractive in her own way—around a six or seven out of ten.
If it were anyone else, Adam might have been willing to sacrifice himself for those 4+ intelligence points.
But this was Amy—Sheldon's destined one and only.
Adam might be a flirt, but he had his principles—he never got involved with women who were good friends.
Even when Rachel, America's forever sweetheart with a perfect nine out of ten beauty, actively seduced him, he rejected her with tremendous willpower.
Let alone a six or seven out of ten Amy.
Besides, every Amy was a force to be reckoned with.
His ex-girlfriend, Amazing Amy, and his mother, Amy, were proof enough.
And then there was Sheldon's Amy—her patience was terrifying, her methods of conditioning people were terrifying, and that was just her rational side.
While these qualities made Adam a bit uneasy, as long as he remained cautious, he could easily defuse any situation. So, they weren't a real problem.
But Amy wasn't entirely rational.
As she said herself, she was "130 pounds of boiling female hormones."
And that exaggerated metaphor wasn't without basis.
Amy had been heavily controlled by her mother since childhood, living an extremely repressed life.
Before college, she barely even attended school—she was homeschooled by her mother, who feared she'd be deceived by boys, believing all schoolboys were bad news.
To be fair, that assumption wasn't entirely wrong…
But it was an extreme overcorrection.
If Amy hadn't had an exceptionally high IQ, getting into Harvard would have been impossible.
Her teenage years were spent under such oppression—no boys ever had the chance to trick her, but no girls wanted to befriend her either.
Lonely and isolated, she had to entertain herself.
For example, she created a unique way of speaking that she later taught Penny. The two even used it to communicate when countering Sheldon and Leonard's secret conversations in Klingon.
She also mastered the quarters-into-a-cup drinking game with Penny. Penny gave up because Amy never missed—after all, it was a game she had played alone countless times.
At this point, the teenage Amy was unpredictable. Who knew what impulsive, terrifying thing she might do?
Adam remembered that at age 22, Amy once threatened someone with stolen insulin just to experience her first kiss.
It was both absurd and pathetic—but also truly terrifying.
Without timely insulin injections, a diabetic could fall into a coma, and if left unnoticed, they could even die.
And that was just one example.
To experience more physical contact, Amy frequently visited gynecologists.
To satisfy her hormonal urges, she even attended wild parties, got completely wasted, and practically offered herself up. Unfortunately for her, she had spent so much time disguising herself as unattractive that, when she woke up the next morning, nothing had happened.
No one had touched her.
Someone had even kindly covered her with a blanket…
And then there was the unspeakable chapter of her life—the time she repeatedly volunteered for experiments studying the link between electric shocks and peak experiences.
Not to mention her relentless pursuit of intimacy after getting together with Sheldon—her desperation was beyond obvious. Anyone with a pulse could see it.
Clearly, her "130 pounds of boiling female hormones" statement wasn't much of an exaggeration.
This underlying, suppressed turbulence—ready to explode at any moment—was what troubled Adam the most.
Because even if Amy didn't end up with Sheldon, she was still someone Adam wanted nothing to do with.
She was dangerously rational, extremely patient, professionally trained in neuropsychology, highly intelligent, repressed, prone to sudden emotional outbursts, and had a vengeful streak.
If this weren't a comedy universe, she would be the perfect supervillain template.
And this world wasn't just The Big Bang Theory—there were plenty of terrifying forces lurking.
If Adam drastically altered Amy's life trajectory while giving her the wrong signals, no one could predict what she might become.
Another Amazing Amy?
No—definitely far worse.
In the original timeline, she once casually said, "I have viruses in my lab. I can bring them over anytime..."
You don't just casually say something like that unless it's actually crossed your mind before.
Compared to her, Amazing Amy was merely ambitious—her methods were predictable and could be countered easily.
But if this Amy went off the deep end, her methods would be unimaginable. Ruthless. Secretive. Long-lasting.
Adam really could end up dead.
That was his biggest concern.
So, despite the temptation of 4+ intelligence points, after weighing all the risks, Adam decided to let it go. He would treat Amy like any other ordinary reader and avoid sending any misleading signals.
Of course, if Adam were like Sheldon—utterly disinterested in romance—then getting targeted by Amy wouldn't matter.
In fact, someone like Amy was perfect for Sheldon.
Her terrifying patience, ability to endure, and persistence in conditioning others would be unacceptable for most people—but they were perfectly suited for Sheldon.
A relationship is about balance—one partner has to take the lead and make sacrifices.
Amy was proactive, patient, and fully committed to training Sheldon like a monkey.
For someone like Leonard, she'd be a nightmare, reminding him too much of his cold, emotionally detached mother.
But Sheldon? He admired Leonard for having such a cool mom.
Beverly ran experiments on Leonard his whole life?
Sheldon's response: I've always wanted to study myself, but I had to attach the electrodes to my own brain!
Astonishingly, both Amy and Beverly were neuroscientists. Both tolerated Sheldon's quirks. Both admired his intelligence and looks. Both had the intellect and skill to train him.
If this weren't a sitcom, Beverly might have drunkenly kissed Sheldon one night, and boom—Sheldon could've ended up as Leonard's stepdad.
After all, age meant nothing to either Beverly or Sheldon.
Sheldon didn't care about physical attraction—he valued intellectual connection.
And Beverly? She spent eight years not sharing a bed with her husband.
Physical compatibility wasn't even a concern.
Sheldon had even said he felt more comfortable around Beverly than Leonard, despite Leonard waiting on him hand and foot for over a decade.
The contrast was striking.
Amy only appeared later.
It would be ridiculous to think her character wasn't modeled after Beverly.
Leonard almost never interacted with Amy alone. When he did, he felt extremely uncomfortable—clearly, she reminded him of his mother.
Beverly wasn't a fit—so Amy was created.
Amy was always meant to be Sheldon's perfect match.
All these thoughts flashed through Adam's mind in an instant.
When Amy finally stood before him, Adam suppressed his complicated emotions and treated her as just another reader.
He simply asked for her name and neatly signed her book:
"To Amy Farrah Fowler—Your friend, Adam Duncan."
Without any extra words or expressions, Adam avoided looking at Amy's emotional gaze and moved on to the next person—red-haired Emily.
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