Chapter 1 : Stomach Trouble

Emerson Morgan irritably ran his hand through his soft, chestnut-brown hair. His delicate features and tightly pressed thin lips showed his frustration. The heat was driving him crazy.

With a pair of black-framed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose, he wore a casual outfit: a cotton short-sleeve shirt and matching pants, making his tall frame look even more slender.

Holding a book in his right hand, he glanced at the class sign: Freshman History. His left hand was in his pocket as he gently pushed open the door with his right hand. The previously noisy classroom fell silent instantly.

"Wow! He''s so handsome!" a girl exclaimed.

After all, it was a history class, so there were many girls. This class was relatively balanced, with a few boys as well.

Emerson''s appearance caused a brief silence before the class erupted in chatter again.

"When did our school get such a handsome guy? Is he a student?"

"I don''t think so. He must be a teacher."

A few girls whispered among themselves.

He squinted his eyes, scanning the class before retracting his gaze. His long legs carried him to the podium, where he placed his book, making a slight sound.

"Quiet!" Emerson''s deep, magnetic voice commanded.

The girls'' eyes widened in surprise. He really was a teacher! And his voice was so pleasant, not to mention his looks. What a perfect man!

The boys were also envious. This professor was very young and... very handsome.

They say that in a class with few boys, they are like "national treasures." But now, it seemed they were no longer appreciated.

A few boys exchanged sour looks.

Emerson discreetly clutched his stomach behind the podium. He hadn''t eaten breakfast, and his stomach was acting up.

He always had stomach issues, severe enough to make him faint. Usually, eating a piece of candy would help, but he had forgotten to bring any in his rush this morning.

Emerson pressed his pale lips together, hoping he could get through the two-hour class.

"Hello, everyone. I''m Emerson." He turned around, his fair fingers picking up a piece of chalk to write his name on the blackboard. His handwriting was strong and full of character.

Turning back, he casually tossed the chalk onto the podium and looked at the students. "No need to be formal. I think the class atmosphere shouldn''t be too heavy. Why did you choose to major in history?"

The students exchanged glances. A boy stood up, nervously looking at Emerson. "I want to be a national treasure."

The class burst into laughter.

Emerson smiled slowly. "Have you achieved that?"

The boy shook his head, hesitantly glancing at him. "Because of you, I''m not."

These kids were really adorable.

He waved his hand, signaling the boy to sit down.

Seeing that Emerson wasn''t angry, the other students gained confidence. Some said they had randomly chosen the major, some were inexplicably admitted, and some girls were tricked by their parents. There were many reasons, but only seven or eight genuinely chose history.

Another wave of pain hit, and sweat rolled down Emerson''s forehead. He glanced at his watch. It had only been an hour.

His stomach probably wouldn''t last until the end of the class. Some students had already noticed Emerson''s discomfort.

"Professor, are you okay?" The boy who wanted to be a national treasure stood up, the first to notice something was wrong.

With his question, the whole class realized that something was indeed off with the professor.

Emerson forced a smile, but the pain was too much. His vision darkened, and he faintly heard the students'' worried voices...

On his first day of teaching, Emerson fainted due to his stomach trouble. When he woke up, the students had left for their next class. By his bedside were his mother and a... doctor.

"Son, you''re awake!" Mrs. Morgan was the first to notice her son had woken up.

Emerson''s voice was weak and hoarse. "Mom..."

Smack!

Mrs. Morgan lightly hit his head. Emerson looked at his mother with a pitiful expression. "Mom... I''m a patient!"

"You know you''re sick?" Mrs. Morgan was a bit angry, upset that her son didn''t take care of himself.

But... her words sounded a bit odd.