Chapter 4 : I Won''t Be a Tutor

Stephen, uninterested, turned his head back to the window. Outside, a class was having a PE lesson, playing basketball. The sound of the ball hitting the rubber court was dull and rhythmic.

The class monitor still hadn''t turned her head back, her slightly softer gaze resting on the back of Stephen''s head. Scott, thinking the monitor disapproved of Stephen''s behavior, turned around again and knocked on Stephen''s desk.

This time, not only Stephen but also Albert, who was sitting next to him, frowned and looked at Scott.

"Are you really not going to read? Our grade''s exams are really tough. Don''t embarrass yourself with a bad score," Scott said, feeling particularly noble, almost expecting the whole class to praise him after the lesson.

Albert gave Scott a cold look, realizing Scott was oblivious to his gaze, and went back to his own work.

Stephen turned his head sharply, causing the earbud he was wearing to slip out slightly.

"I just don''t feel like prematurely entering middle age like you," he said.

Stephen finished his sentence and class was dismissed. Before Scott could react, Stephen had already grabbed his backpack, pushed off the desk behind him, and leaped out of his seat. By the time Scott understood what Stephen had said, Stephen was already on the first floor.

Scott had always had thin hair, and since starting high school—especially after joining Top Class 1—he felt his scalp getting colder by the day. But hearing Stephen say it so bluntly, Scott felt deeply hurt.

Clutching his chest, he complained to Albert, "Albert, did you hear what your deskmate said? He hurt me! My weak and fragile heart has been trampled on!"

Albert slowly put away his workbook, glancing at Scott''s head. "I heard our homeroom teacher mention a shampoo that promotes hair growth. I can ask about it for you."

"No way!" Scott protested immediately, standing up from his seat and chasing after Albert, who was heading downstairs. "Do you hear yourselves? I love and respect you, treating you like a father. And this is how you repay me?"

"I don''t have a son who looks older than me," Albert replied with a hint of a smile, walking into the cafeteria with Scott''s grumbling in the background.

The cafeteria was mostly empty in the evening, with only a few juniors and sophomores who lived on campus having dinner there. As soon as Albert and Scott entered, the atmosphere changed, and the previously lively discussions quieted down significantly.

Albert carried his tray to a window seat, holding a spoon in his mouth, showing no interest in the food on the table.

"Excuse me, senior."

A short-haired girl approached Albert shyly, her face blushing. She glanced at Albert, then quickly looked down, feeling embarrassed. After a few attempts, Albert still didn''t know what she looked like.

"Do you need something?" Albert raised an eyebrow, his cold voice standing out in the quiet cafeteria. Many people noticed and started whispering, wondering how many words it would take for Albert to dismiss her.

"I... I heard you''re really good at studying. I was wondering if I could ask you a question."

Scott, who had just gotten his food, saw another girl pestering Albert and knowingly smiled, choosing a seat far from Albert.

"I''m not a tutor. If you have questions, ask a teacher." Albert looked down at the girl standing in front of him, his slightly drooping eyelids making him seem very aloof.

"I... I''m not..."

"Excuse me," Albert said, standing up with his tray and moving to sit in front of Scott.