In the teachers' office, several teachers were chatting happily when they saw the physics teacher from class six storming in angrily.
The group exchanged glances, wondering what had happened.
"Old Davis, aren't you teaching a class? What happened?" The chemistry teacher from class one asked in surprise as she looked at him.
Edward Davis took a large sip of water and began to complain, "It's those students in class six again. It's bad enough they don't study at all, but today they even defied me in public."
Another young man with a gentle demeanor spoke disapprovingly, "Mr. Davis, regardless, you're a teacher. How can you say students don't learn anything?"
The person next to the man tugged at him, signaling him to keep quiet.
As if not expecting someone from a class like class six to speak up in defense, Edward Davis's face darkened further.
Looking at him with disdain, he sneered, "Who do we have here? Oh, it's the new Mr. White. If you're so noble, why don't you go ahead and teach physics to class six?"
The office fell silent, with all eyes focused on the newcomer.
Lawrence White suddenly clenched his fists, unhesitantly responding, "Sure, what can a teacher like you teach the students anyway?"
Everyone present was astute enough to catch the underlying meaning of his words.
"Then I want to see if you can actually teach them. I'll talk to the principal," Edward Davis said, not angry but amused.
As he left, a teacher who was on good terms with Lawrence White couldn't help but speak up.
"How can you be so impulsive? Do you know how difficult it is to teach class six? Not to mention their grades, just handling students like John Sinclair and Sebastian Winn will give you headaches."
After saying this, the person thought for a moment and added, "And there's also their newly transferred student Claire Green, who got into a fight with a classmate on her first day at school."
Who would have known?
Lawrence White didn't show any change in expression upon hearing this, as he had already heard about it.
But as a teacher, it is important not to give up on any student, no matter how they are.
"I believe I can do it."
Seeing this, the other person didn't try to dissuade him any further and shook their head, "You're just the type who won't stop until you've hit a wall."
Too young still—they say a newborn calf is not afraid of a tiger, but the people of class six are not tigers.
...
"Olivia, why do I feel like you're not looking too well?" Isabella Xyler gazed at her and finally noticed something was wrong.
"It's nothing," Claire Green massaged her temples, tugging her school uniform collar up, and lay down on the desk.
At that moment, a hand suddenly landed on her forehead. Feeling the heat beneath it, Isabella Xyler expressed her concern in alarm.
"You're burning up."
No wonder her face was flushed; she had a fever and didn't even know it.
"Sis Olivia, let's go to the infirmary," John Sinclair said as he tried to pull Claire Green up, but she dodged.
Claire Green closed her eyes, sweat forming on her forehead, and spoke softly, "No."
Seeing this, Sebastian Winn frowned slightly and whispered to John Sinclair and the others, "Sis Olivia doesn't want to go. What should we do now?"
What to do—they had no idea.
It's not like they didn't know Sister Olivia's temper. If she said no, there was nothing they could do.
Isabella Xyler looked worried, and suddenly a figure appeared in her mind, making her eyes light up.
Right, I can call for Julian. I'm such a smart cookie.
"I have an idea." With the thought, Isabella Xyler immediately pulled out her phone and dialed without hesitation.
John Sinclair and Sebastian Winn exchanged glances, wondering what she was planning to do.
Soon, they heard Isabella Xyler talking on the phone about Claire Green being sick, and shortly after, she hung up.
John Sinclair pursed his lips, "Isabella Xyler, who were you just on the phone with?"
Isabella Xyler smiled mysteriously, "Someone who can take Olivia to the hospital."
...
Over the phone, George Xyler hung up and glanced at the person resting nearby, hesitating on how to bring it up.
"George, whose call was that? Why do you look constipated after answering it?" Mason Quinn asked, curious about his demeanor.
You're the one who's constipated, George Xyler thought, kicking him hard.
A sharp pain shot up Mason Quinn's leg as he clutched it, wailing, "Damn, George Xyler, you actually kicked me."
George Xyler grinned slyly at the words.
"You two, enough," Julian Sia cast a cold glance, his tone icy.
Seeing him like this, George Xyler thought of Isabella Xyler's words and bravely spoke, "Julian, Isabella just called and said Claire Green is sick and refuses to go to the infirmary."
Julian Sia lifted his gaze, "She's sick."
"Mm, Isabella said they couldn't do anything, so they thought of you."
After saying this, George Xyler's lips twitched; does Julian seem like the sort who enjoys being helpful?
He admitted that Julian might have a bit of interest in that girl, but surely not to this extent yet.
With those words, Julian Sia strode out with his long legs.
Mason Quinn and George Xyler shared the same thought and exclaimed as they saw Julian Sia heading out.
"Julian, you're not really going, are you?"
His response was a departing black silhouette.
...
"Olivia, wake up," upon receiving the call and learning Julian Sia had arrived at the school gate, Isabella Xyler nudged the sleeping girl.
Awakened, Claire Green's eyes were rimmed red, with a strong sense of fatigue heavy in them.
"What?"
Her tone was not very pleasant, causing Isabella Xyler to laugh awkwardly, "Uh, could you accompany me out for a bit?"
At this moment, she didn't dare tell the truth.
Claire Green stared at her for two seconds before decisively saying, "No."
Already anticipating her refusal, Isabella Xyler's small face fell, looking tearfully at Claire Green without saying a word.
Under such an intense stare, even the usually composed Claire Green couldn't withstand it.
She irritably raked her hair, "Fine, let's go."
Having achieved her objective, Isabella Xyler awarded herself a mental pat, happily trailing behind.
John Sinclair and the others, who witnessed this transformation, were stunned.
This is what girls call a soft approach.
Following Isabella Xyler to the school gate, Claire Green saw the familiar Bugatti.
"An explanation," Claire Green's brow furrowed with fatigue, her dark eyes carrying a touch of chill.
Isabella Xyler: "Well, I kind of accidentally called my brother, and then..."
Noticing the growing discomfort in Claire Green's expression, the rest of Isabella Xyler's words got stuck in her throat.
Claire Green understood she meant well, and finally, she only said coldly, "I don't want there to be a second time."
"Mm, I promise," as if daring to try again next time.
Isabella Xyler nodded fiercely.
The man in the car, sensing the tense atmosphere over there, pushed the door open and got out.
Even now, Julian Sia didn't quite understand why he had come.
Perhaps it was because the child called him 'brother,' and he couldn't ignore that.
"Ah-jin," the man's voice was low and magnetic, sending a tingling sensation to one's ears.
Hearing the man's address, Claire Green stopped in her tracks.
No one had ever called her Ah-jin, nor would anyone have known it was her favorite character.
"Ah-jin, why are you ignoring your brother?" Julian Sia spoke nonchalantly.
Claire Green squinted her pretty eyes, "Why has brother suddenly come to school?"
The cool and elegant man lifted his brows and smiled with nonchalance.
"I heard Ah-jin refused to go to the infirmary, so brother had to come to fetch you."
Claire Green: "..."
How can you say that with such conviction?