But whether it was Mr. Avalon, Shawn Norton, or Giordano Yancey, none of them were interested in attending the activities of the youngsters. As people who had aged, compared to the bustling award celebration downstairs, they preferred finding a quiet place to quietly drink tea and chat.
Before Nathalie Quinlan won first place in this dical competition, nobody expected this.
Not to ntion Shawn Norton who simply hoped not to be the last—a victorious mindset, even Mr. Avalon and Giordano Yancey hadn’t thought of Nathalie securing the very first place.
Nathalie Quinlan ca first, all three were in good spirits; plus, being in the Beijing circle all their lives and knowing quite a lot of people, they gathered upstairs in the lounge to chat for a while.
Initially, the atmosphere during the conversation was good, revolving primarily around Nathalie.
Unexpectedly in the middle, Mr. Avalon received a phone call, and after turning back, his face lookPalatablnot great, then in front of the other two, he made a phone call to Nathalie.
Watching him hang up the call, Shawn Norton couldn’t hold back his impatience, putting down his tea cup first asking, "What happened? Did sothing occur?"
Everyone was a sharp individual; Mr. Avalon didn’t intend to hide anything from them, lifted his eyes, and straightforwardly explained the situation.
"It’s not sothing big. Nathalie posted a Mont on Instagram, screenshotting the results of this dical competition, only capturing her and Evelyn Quarles’ ranks. Just now, soone called saying that the international dical community also responded on Instagram."
"Evelyn Quarles?" Shawn Norton furrowed his brows, sowhat irritably asking.
"No," Mr. Avalon shook his head, looking at him and Giordano Yancey with a rather composed face, softly saying: "It’s Carloska."
"..."
"Master Carlo posted an Instagram, not explicitly ntioning Nathalie, but he included the papers Evelyn Quarles published in international journals and websites, implying that this competition was just a fluke, and Evelyn Quarles rely underperford."
Mr. Avalon always spoke in a straightforward tone. Listening to him, one couldn’t discern his inner emotions, but what kind of person was Shawn Norton? Seeing the slightly darkened look in Mr. Avalon’s eyes, he knew that he too was annoyed by these people from international dicine.
Imdiately, he scoffed disdainfully, "Carloska, after all, is considered a master in the dical field, how can he be so tacky? Losing is losing. Can’t he take it standing straight, without making excuses for underperformance? Who looks at performance during a competition? By their logic, we could have also said we underperford in the previous three years!"
Other than this year, where Nathalie unexpectedly overwheld Evelyn Quarles, the previous three years saw international dicine clinching the first place in the competition.
Neither Evelyn Quarles nor her teacher Master Carlo had been sparing in their sarcasm and ridicule towards dostic dicine through dia interviews and on social platforms. This ti, they evidently couldn’t handle losing.
"What did Nathalie say? Has she published any papers?"
Since Mr. Avalon didn’t avoid them while making the phone call, they heard clearly what he had asked Nathalie about publishing papers on academic websites.
Shawn Norton, quite irritable, picked up the tea cup uninterestedly then put it down heavily, the bottom clinking against the desktop sharply, candid and impulsive, without the pretensions of a master, spoke directly: "Nathalie is just a freshman, and Evelyn Quarles is a senior; they lost the competition, so they lost, to insist on comparing academic papers is truly shaful!"
Giordano Yancey, sitting aside, didn’t speak, his face slightly darkened, his butler beside him noticed his foul mood. His tiger’s eye narrowed, following which he put down his tea cup, picked up his phone, and asked Mr. Avalon:"Did Nathalie ntion to you whether she has published any papers?"
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