Hahaha, Song Zheng couldn’t contain his joy. He had been betting with Old Zhao for an entire year.
First-year students were the hardest to teach, and Clinical Medicine Class 8 was especially a group of gifted prodigies. Let Old Zhao deal with that headache.
Just thinking about Old Zhao’s wrinkled face crumpling in frustration made Song Zheng’s lips curl into a grin.
Jiang Jingxing, observing Song Zheng’s expression, guessed a little about what was happening.
The teacher had probably made another bet with Director Zhao. As for what the bet was about? The current situation made it obvious: it was whether he would attend the opening ceremony or not.
But what was the stake this time that made the teacher so happy? Jiang Jingxing felt a spark of curiosity.
His thoughts shifted in an instant, without affecting the speed or precision with which he placed his chess pieces.
“Teacher, you lost.” Jiang Jingxing calmly stated the result after placing the last piece.
Hearing the student’s composed tone, Song Zheng choked slightly.
This kid was impressive. His own chess skills weren’t bad, yet Jiang Jingxing always seemed to win against him.
Looking at the board, with the black pieces completely surrounded by white, Song Zheng felt a trace of pride.
This was his most outstanding student.
This was the student he had wrested away from Old Zhao’s group.
But pride aside, it had been made clear countless times that Jiang Jingxing should hold back a little when playing.
“Hmm, I let my guard down a bit in this game, but still, it’s not bad that you managed to beat me,” Song Zheng said, deliberately assuming the role of a chess master lecturing Jiang Jingxing.
Jiang Jingxing was a little helpless. Outside of academics, the teacher still had the childish temper he always did.
“Thank you for your modesty, teacher.” To avoid the small tricks Song Zheng might use next, Jiang Jingxing simply admitted that his one-step lag in the game was thanks to his opponent’s skill.
Seeing this, Song Zheng nodded in satisfaction, about to say something to this student who had shown some tact this time.
“Damn! Who pushed me!”
An unexpected voice broke the quiet of the Red Mansion.
Both Song Zheng and Jiang Jingxing looked up in unison.
By a nearby old tree stood four girls.
The one who had made the noise was among them. She had neat black short hair, a look that should have conveyed competence, but her eyes flickered nervously. After stammering for a while, she finally spoke a complete sentence, “Hello, Director Song, hello, Upperclassman Jiang.”
Her words seemed to break the ice, and the other girls greeted them as well.
One girl was stunningly beautiful, another carried a hint of arrogance in her gaze, but her waist-length black hair made Song Zheng unable to hide his envy. Another girl wore black-rimmed glasses, seeming almost invisible, yet the simple greeting she offered caught Song Zheng’s attention more than anyone else.
No need to ask—they were clearly dormmates. Judging by their ordinary clothes, they were probably freshmen who had just entered this year.
Normally, Song Zheng would have been happy to interact with students, greeting them warmly and even asking a few questions if time allowed.
But this was not a normal day, not at this moment!
Because he wasn’t wearing a wig!
The roar in Song Zheng’s mind could rival the ocean’s howl. But in front of his proud student and four potential future students, he had no choice but to force a dignified expression, mask his thinning hair with what little composure he had left, and nod solemnly.
Jiang Jingxing had just noticed the freshmen, and it was clear he understood his teacher’s awkward state. His gaze casually swept over Song Zheng’s head, a faint smile forming on his face.
This coincidence was far too amusing, making it difficult for him to empathize with the teacher.
Song Zheng’s embarrassment washed away Jiang Jingxing’s earlier irritation about being used as a prop in the teacher’s bet.
Feeling in a good mood, Jiang Jingxing nodded to the four freshmen, his faint smile lingering.
The four standing there, having received acknowledgment from the teacher, no longer cared about being caught peeking or feeling awkward. One nudged another, and they quickly left.
This place carried too much weight. They had to leave before the Director reacted, or who knew what might happen!
It wasn’t that the Director was unkind—it was just that the four of them knew too much.
Watching their distant backs, Song Zheng hurriedly picked up the wig he had set aside, put it on, and meticulously adjusted every detail.
Jiang Jingxing tidied up the chessboard while watching the teacher, who appeared orderly but was actually flustered, moving in a slightly chaotic manner. It was amusing.
So this was the teacher—someone who liked to play tricks, yet still carried his own burdens? He realized he didn’t know the teacher as well as he thought.
Song Zheng felt that the wig he had worn countless times was especially difficult to manage today.
Just wrestling with the wig made him sweat profusely; even sitting next to the “walking air conditioner” Jiang Jingxing didn’t help this time.
Finally adjusting the wig properly, Song Zheng exhaled.
He had really sacrificed a lot today. He didn’t know how much the little girls had seen, which college they belonged to, whether they were tight-lipped, or if they would tell their friends. And if those friends told more friends?
If too many saw him, and they happened to be students of the Clinical Medicine College and were chatty “good” kids, how could he maintain his reputation as the respected old Director?
Just thinking about it, Song Zheng felt despair.
It was all Old Zhao’s fault—always needing to make a bet with him!
Who didn’t know his wolfish ambition? Just still obsessed with Jiang Jingxing’s matter!
Always finding small ways to provoke him.
Hmph. No matter how much he provoked or played tricks, Jiang Jingxing wouldn’t become his student. All his students were nurtured to graduation under Song Zheng, and if they joined a lab later, it would be under him. What did Old Zhao have to do with it?
All wasted effort!
Song Zheng cursed Zhao Yun in his heart, finally calming down a bit.
Just wait—when that old man teaches the freshmen later, he would definitely go watch.