"Mr. Garland, what on earth is Mr. Yancey doing at the school?" He had waited in the office for half a day and hadn’t seen Amadeus Yancey bring up any issues. The man just ca in, asked for a cup of tea, sat down on the sofa to do his own thing, and didn’t ntion any specific business, leaving him with his heart in his throat, unable to find any peace.
Alfred Garland patted his shoulder nonchalantly, smiling as he said, "It’s nothing. He’s just waiting for soone."
"Waiting for soone?" The principal didn’t understand. "Waiting for whom?"
Alfred Garland said, "Just a student from your school."
He ant the students who were coming for the exam.
The principal misunderstood and, recalling so gossip he had occasionally heard, suddenly realized, "Oh, is Mr. Yancey here waiting for Caryn Zachmann? It seems like after the student council finished welcoming the new students they all went back."
Alfred Garland’s mouth twitched slightly. What Caryn Zachmann? Amadeus was clearly waiting for Ms. Quinlan!
"No, he’s waiting for soone else."
As soon as the voice fell.
The man who had been playing with his phone finally raised his eyes, glanced at the ti on the phone, put it away, and stood up.
His height alone exuded a suffocating presence, making it hard for others to breathe.
"Principal, has the exam finished?"
The Tsinghua University principal uttered an "Ah" and checked the ti; indeed, the exam had finished about twenty minutes ago. He nodded his head, "Yes, it should be finished."
Amadeus Yancey’s brows and eyes were heavy, as if harboring an endless sea of thoughts, which all culminated in a single sentence, "Help check a student’s results."
Alfred Garland’s heart skipped a beat, almost leaping out of his chest.
Fuck, did Amadeus an he wanted to use his influence to ensure Ms. Quinlan’s admission into Tsinghua University?!
That would be backdoor manipulation!
Amadeus used to hate it when people resorted to such tactics.
But it seed he had abandoned all his principles when it ca to Ms. Quinlan.
The principal had not yet realized the implication and asked, baffled, "Sure, what’s the na of the student you’re inquiring about, Mr. Yancey?"
"Her na?" Amadeus Yancey chuckled lightly, casually flicking the Buddhist beads on his wrist, his pupils dark and the corners of his eyes dangerously sharp: "Nathalie Quinlan."
*
Nathalie Quinlan finished her exam and left the venue right at 12 o’clock. The weather in October was quite cool, but today, Beijing was graced with clear skies and sunshine. The temperature was mild, not too cold, nor too hot.
Having been cooped up in the exam hall for four hours, a gust of wind suddenly made her mind much clearer.
Nathalie Quinlan rubbed her swollen temples, preparing to head out while taking out her phone from her bag, not having switched it on yet.
A voice suddenly ca from a diagonally sideward direction: "Nathalie."
She looked up, not expecting to encounter Jeff Quinlan in Beijing. The man seed to have aged considerably, not as vibrant as the last ti she saw him at Waterfront Pavilion. In just over a month, he seed to have aged a decade. When he saw her looking over, Jeff Quinlan visibly felt awkward, fidgeting with his hands, toes touching each other, and looking utterly at a loss.
Nathalie Quinlan withdrew her line of sight, her gaze as cold as a blade, ready for him to pick a fight, and replied indifferently, "What is it?"
Jeff Quinlan, upon hearing her cold voice, paused, then gave a wry smile, and without beating around the bush, said, "Nothing. I just saw you were here to take the exam and wanted to ask how it went."
Nathalie Quinlan was more accustod to him being cold and jeering or hypocritically arrogant. His sudden change in deanor left her feeling quite unaccustod.
"Just average."
She had finished the questions, and managed to write a forced essay.
As for the final results, it all depended on how many points the essay would score.
Her essay wasn’t written in the standard exam format, so it was really hard to say how many points it would get.
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