Chapter 22: The Unlucky Ming’s Day 2

If Mr. Aston’s appearance in the classroom was an explainable phenomenon, then Mr. Aston leading away a seemingly ordinary Chinese student in plain sight was simply too bizarre.

But right now, no one was more bewildered than Ming Ying.

Because the image of him being led out of the classroom by this Aston played out like this—

Aston: Pack up your things. Let’s talk outside.

Ming (utterly confused): You, I, uh.

The man seemed to understand that Ming Ying was not quite in his right mind, frowned slightly, and simply reached out. He took his bag, stuffed the laptop and book on the table inside in a few swift motions, then said in a very gentle tone, “Come with me for a moment.”

It didn’t sound like the tone of someone here to settle a score.

Ming Ying’s gaze traveled from top to bottom. What could he say? All his worldly possessions were already in someone else’s hands.

“Okay.” He stood up, like a child who had done something wrong, head lowered, and followed him to the door, step by step.

The distance from his seat to the classroom door was an arduous journey for Ming Ying, because he could feel all the gazes converging on him.

Yet, stepping out of the classroom didn’t make things much better—at least the classroom had people. Now, the further they walked, the more they were just the two of them.

He maintained a distance of at least ten meters from Aston.

Ming Ying’s mind was a mess, far too chaotic. He didn’t dare look up, just stared at the man’s leather shoe heels, using them to gauge the distance between them.

When the man sped up, he sped up. When he slowed, he slowed. Just like that, they crossed a long corridor.

Suddenly, the person in front stopped.

Ming Ying stopped abruptly, too.

Was this it? The place for a silencing?

But it was a bit too open, wasn’t it? Wasn’t he afraid of being seen…

He looked up again. Oh, it was because they had run into Professor Oliver, who was on his way to teach a class.

Ming Ying stood in place, watching that Aston and Oliver greet each other. The two of them were standing not far away, saying something unknown, and then actually started laughing.

Their cheerful laughter was carried by the wind to Ming Ying’s ear. Ming Ying shivered.

In reality, two tall, long-legged men with exceptionally pleasing appearances chatting and laughing was a very beautiful and comfortable sight.

But Ming Ying, here and now, only found it terrifying.

Speak of the devil, they seemed to be talking about Ming Ying.

Ming Ying saw Aston suddenly turn sideways to look at him and even raised a hand towards him: “Ming, come here.”

Ming Ying: “…”

Student Ming Ying had countless questions and countless wild horses stampeding through his heart, but his expression control was astonishingly good. He merely walked over with a puzzled frown—an expression that even made him look a little impatient.

Ming Ying walked over and heard Aston say: “Oliver, I’ll be taking this student with me. Mark him down for personal leave for today’s class.”

What? Ming Ying’s eyes widened slightly. Had anyone asked him?

You’re a school board director, so you can do whatever you want?

But what was going on? Why did he feel like a dad bringing his son to meet the teacher???

Oliver, meanwhile, smiled and said: “Oh, Mr. Aston, is this according to procedure?”

Well said!

Ming Ying applauded Oliver in his heart. This year, he would definitely give Oliver a high evaluation score!

Then the very next second, he heard Aston chuckle and say: “I trust you’ll find a way.”

Oliver smiled: “What should I say? Thank you for your trust.”

As he spoke, he even smiled at Ming Ying: “Ming, remember, just fill it out in the system later and it’ll be fine.”

Ming Ying: Fuck this, wait for your low score!

Oliver left, his retreating figure drifting away like a cloud in the distant sky.

They were alone in the corridor again.

Ming Ying’s gaze fluttered around, circling the gray suit of the man before him, then the white shirt inside, and then…

“Ming, look up.”

Ming Ying: “…”

Damn. Ming Ying never knew his own name could be so nerve-wracking.

He coughed, touched his nose, and then looked up.

There was no imagined coldness or severity. The deep features even held a trace of a faint smile.

Man, what are you smiling about?

“Professor… no, Mr. Aston.” Ming Ying also spoke, “Uh, I think I—”

I what? Ming Ying was organizing his words when he got stuck. Don’t tell me I was going to say, “I think your Chinese is very good”?

Then the very next second, he heard the person before him say: “If you feel your thoughts are very chaotic, you don’t have to talk for now.”

Ming Ying shut his mouth.

“Follow me.” Aston turned around. “To the library.”

“Okay.”

Ming Ying answered instinctively, but in the moment it took to just lift one leg, he froze.

The library.

So familiar.

Li-bra-ry????

Ming Ying abruptly looked up.

In that instant, looking at the back before him, a ridiculous, utterly absurd thought popped into Ming Ying’s mind.

It even prevented him from taking that second step.

Silas noticed, looked back, and raised an eyebrow slightly: “Is there a problem?”

Ming Ying narrowed his eyes, secretly taking a breath. Impossible. No matter how unlucky, he couldn’t be this unlucky.

Impossible, impossible.

“Nothing.” He coughed and said.

Silas glanced at him, said nothing, and continued walking forward.

And Ming Ying, following behind, was in utter torment.

Walking and walking, the closer the library loomed, the more Ming Ying’s heart wanted to bristle. He felt like running away again.

Ming Ying did some mental preparation, glanced at the man striding purposefully ahead, and then secretly took out his phone, swiping the screen open.

Mingo: [Puppy Peeking Sticker.jpg]

A little blue checkmark lit up, indicating the message was successfully sent.

Ming Ying hurriedly looked up at the person walking ahead. Still striding as if flying, without any pause.

He pursed his lips.

Mingo: [Puppy Peeking Sticker.jpg]

Mingo: [Puppy Peeking Sticker.jpg]

Mingo: [Puppy Peeking Sticker.jpg]

…

He sent nearly ten stickers in a row. The person ahead had no reaction at all, not bothering to take out his phone to check.

See, I told you, impossible!

Ming Ying put his phone away, relieved. Very absurdly, he suddenly began to feel a survivor’s relief.

Relieved about what? Relieved that the man was XI’s dad, not XI!

Damn. This thought frightened Ming Ying again.

If it were true, it would be far scarier than a cheesy horror film.

Thinking this, when he looked at Aston again, his gaze held a little less… fear? He even suddenly realized clearly that his bag was still in the man’s hands!

Crap. Was this something a normal person would do?

Ming Ying hurriedly quickened his pace. He walked to a spot about two steps beside Silas and spoke: “Mr. Aston, my bag, let me take it myself, I’ll take it myself. Sorry, thank you.”

Silas, upon hearing this, turned his face, curved his lip, and said: “Alright.”

He handed Ming Ying’s backpack over with one hand. The latter awkwardly received it with both hands, then covered it up with a cough.

“Throat feeling unwell?” Aston suddenly asked again.

Ming Ying was stunned for a moment, then let out an “Ah.”

By this time, the two had reached a side door of the library. The automatic sensor door opened for them from afar.

Aston said: “Along the way, you coughed at least three times.”

Ming Ying: “…”

Truly worthy of being a school board director, what meticulous observation!

Although Ming Ying found the question very abrupt, he certainly couldn’t ignore it, so he casually made up an excuse: “The seasons are changing lately, so my throat’s just a bit uncomfortable.”

“Mm.”

The air fell silent again.

Ming Ying realized belatedly, uh, should he say something like “thanks for your concern”?

But the silence had already settled; it seemed inappropriate to add it now.

—Wait, isn’t he supposed to be educating me on behalf of his daughter? Why are we talking about my throat?

In this somewhat strange atmosphere, they entered the library’s inner building, but they didn’t take the public elevator—Aston led Ming Ying to another elevator, the exclusive one for the school leaders, of course.

Ming Ying’s face remained unchanged, but his heart was pounding violently.

This, they entered from the side door, and now they weren’t using the student elevator. Avoiding everyone. What did he intend to do?

Heavens above, he’d feared teachers all his life, next came the Dean of Students, and finally, the Dean of Students who had a daughter he’d sent explicit photos to.

Therefore, the moment he stepped into the elevator, Student Ming Ying, having slightly regained his wits, felt he needed to say something first, at least to defend himself.

“Ahem.” Ming Ying instinctively used a cough to clear his throat again. “Well, Mr. Aston.”

The person beside him looked over.

Ming Ying clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and suddenly felt possessed by a surge of courage. He said, “Regarding Cherry, I think I can still explain—”

Ding~

The elevator doors opened.

Aston stepped out of the elevator, took out his phone for a glance, and said, “No rush. We’re here. Go inside first.”

Ming Ying was anxious. #&% his mother, you’re not in a rush, so why did you drag me out?

He followed behind the man, explaining, “We met at the airport, then added each other’s contact. The chatting might have crossed a line, but I was serious—”

The man, however, interrupted his explanation: “Go inside first.”

Ming Ying choked. With a beep, this seemingly ordinary reading room opened its door before him in response.

Ming Ying’s heart thumped. He glanced sideways and saw the number 367 hanging on the door plate.

Afraid his eyes were playing tricks, Ming Ying closed them, then opened them. Closed them, opened them. Repeated this three times.

Alright, his eyes weren’t faulty. Maybe his brain was.

Watching the young man dawdling, rooted at the doorway, Silas put down his phone and said, “Ming, come in.”

Ming Ying: “…”

Ming Ying entered with his heart in his throat.

But even inside, he couldn’t settle down, glancing everywhere, and was caught red-handed.

Silas asked him, “What are you looking at?”

Ming Ying scratched his head, somewhat hesitatingly: “Your daughter, she should be here, right?”

“I don’t have a daughter.”

“Huh?” Ming Ying said instinctively: “Your little sister?”

“No little sister either.”

“Your—”

“Cherry is a niece-type relation.”

It all clicked. It all clicked.

Ming Ying nodded: “Oh, I see.”

But Silas chuckled: “XI is me.”

???

What did that mean???

XI is you.

XI, is, you????

With a thwap, Ming Ying’s phone dropped straight onto the table.

Without warning, it was like a giant boulder crashing into a lake that had finally calmed.

Ming Ying stood rooted to the spot, his entire being as if frozen in the Little Ice Age from centuries ago, missing evolution, then blasted by the heat of the asteroid impact explosion that wiped out the dinosaurs—in short, he was about to fall apart.

In just one second, he thought: Shit. I’m done for.

So, in this scene comparable to the dinosaur extinction, Student Ming Ying’s little brain spun wildly. Finally, with a deadpan expression, he uttered an epic, classic line:

“Who is that? I don’t know them.”