The Power of Money Paves the Way

"Ah, I misspoke."

Fang Jun glanced at Xue Zigui, who was resting calmly beside him, and held up three fingers. "It's not a dual supreme, it's three supremes in one class! Don't forget Lao Xue, he's a Holy Son firmly seated in the top five. Do you understand the weight of that!"

The classmates who were eavesdropping with their ears perked up suddenly realized that their class indeed had a lot of top students.

Three big shots of this level crammed into one class? How are the other classes supposed to survive!

Xue Zigui remained completely unfazed by this flattery. He simply waved his hand, opened his book again, and said in an indifferent tone:

"Don't put me on a pedestal just to watch me fall. Those two are great gods in the heavens; at best, I'm just a lowly insect on the ground."

"Tch, intellectuals always love to use fancy words when they're being humble."

Fang Jun looked entirely unbothered. He then threw an arm around Lin Mo's shoulder and puffed out his chest with righteous confidence. "I'm different. If my brother is awesome, it means I'm awesome too. It's all about sharing the glory! From today on, I am also half a supreme!"

As Fang Jun leaned on Lin Mo's shoulder, Lin Mo didn't brush him off. His divine sense had already spread out like an invisible net, enveloping the entire campus.

In the next second, a pitch-black, gleaming Rolls-Royce abruptly barged into his perception range and stopped at the school gate.

These days, there were plenty of parents driving luxury cars, but this particular brand was still too eye-catching.

However, even luxury cars couldn't enter the school gates; they could only stop outside.

The car door opened, and two long legs stepped out.

The first to step down was Ye Minghui. His arrogant red hair had been dyed back to a normal black, and he was wearing a brand-new school uniform, looking quite presentable.

Following behind him was another familiar face, Zhou Nianqian.

The corners of Lin Mo's mouth twitched silently.

As expected, characters with names always had follow-up plotlines.

Lin Mo couldn't even be bothered to lift his eyes. He continued to casually listen to Fang Jun and the others chatting, but his mind was entirely focused over there.

Within his domain, all external factors were nothing more than a pebble thrown into a pond.

They might stir up a few ripples, but hoping to make big waves?

A fool's dream.

His divine sense followed the two of them. Their goal was clear; they crossed the tree-lined path and headed straight for the principal's office.

A moment later, the homeroom teacher, Chen Xiaoya, who was originally in her office, was also called over by a phone call.

Just as he thought, they were coming for Class Eight.

Lin Mo withdrew his divine sense, feeling a little like laughing.

It's just that the class roster was already full, wasn't it? Were they going to force their way in?

Inside the principal's office.

When Chen Xiaoya pushed the door open and entered, she immediately spotted the two figures wearing brand-new school uniforms sitting on the guest sofa.

She didn't look closely and walked straight to the desk.

"Principal, you were looking for me?"

Shen Zhongping was slowly unscrewing his thermos, and a rich scent of goji berries and red dates wafted out.

He took a sip before unhurriedly lifting his eyes and gesturing toward the sofa with his chin.

"Teacher Chen, come, let me introduce you."

His tone was as relaxed as if he were discussing the weather. "Our school has received two transfer students. Both have very good foundations, so I was thinking of arranging them in your Class Eight and letting you take extra care of them."

Chen Xiaoya's heart skipped a beat.

Transfer students? And two boys at that?

She frowned almost subconsciously.

Having been in the profession for many years, she knew all too well what the words transfer student usually meant.

They were either so poor academically that they couldn't stay at their original school, or they were troublemakers from rich and powerful families.

Looking at this lineup, it was clearly the latter.

It wasn't Chen Xiaoya's fault for thinking this way; after all, not many proper students would transfer schools.

And they just had to be crammed into her Class Eight.

However, she quickly suppressed that slight displeasure. After years of dealing with students and parents, she had long mastered the skill of remaining impassive.

She took a step forward, her tone polite but distant.

"Principal, I'm afraid that's not very convenient. When the classes were divided before the term started, our Class Eight was already full. You can see for yourself on the class roster. If we add more people now, it will be hard to even arrange desks for them."

She enunciated the word full very clearly.

This was the most legitimate and irrefutable reason.

Shen Zhongping's hand holding the teacup paused, and the smile on his face faltered a bit. He hadn't expected Chen Xiaoya to push back so directly.

"Well..."

He coughed dryly, his eyes drifting toward the two youths. "Teacher Chen, rules are dead, but people are alive. Special circumstances call for special handling."

She turned her head to look at the two boys sitting on the sofa.

One was leaning back lazily with indifferent eyes, while the other sat upright with a perfectly measured smile on his face.

Before the silent Zhou Nianqian could speak, Ye Minghui took the initiative to stand up. However, his posture was casual, and his tone carried a hint of reckless unruliness.

"Teacher Chen, of course we sincerely want to come and learn. We've long heard that Class Eight is the treasured land of our First High School, with a strong academic atmosphere and full of talents. My brother and I came out of admiration, wanting to experience such a top-tier environment and soak up some of that brilliance."

His words were airtight, but this wicked vibe sounded incredibly awkward to Chen Xiaoya's ears no matter how she listened to it.

What did he mean by soaking up brilliance? He made it sound like Class Eight was some tourist attraction and they were sightseers.

The curve of Chen Xiaoya's lips faded. She didn't reply to him, but instead turned her head to look at the calm and composed Shen Zhongping.

Shen Zhongping was slowly unscrewing the lid of his thermos again; the swirling steam blurred his eyes.

He acted as if he hadn't heard the previous conversation, simply focusing on blowing at the floating tea leaves.

This old fox.

Chen Xiaoya muttered in her heart, having no choice but to lean down close to Shen Zhongping's ear and speak rapidly in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Principal, it's not that I'm unwilling to accept them. The main thing is, as you know, those two little ancestors, Lin Mo and Tong Dong, are currently in the class.

These two newcomers clearly look like pampered young masters. What if they say the wrong thing and get into a conflict with Lin Mo and the others, affecting Lin Mo's study state? He is our trump card, after all."

Sure enough, Shen Zhongping's hand holding the cup paused in mid-air for a moment.

These words hit right at his core.

One was the school's future golden signboard, his most dazzling political achievement for a promotion, representing his future career.

The other two had families that could bring in sponsorships for the school, representing financial prospects.

Financial prospects were common, but career prospects were not.

He calculated this trade-off very clearly.

Shen Zhongping's fingers tapped lightly but firmly on the smooth desk twice, yet the sound made the atmosphere in the entire office freeze.

He finally raised his eyes and looked at Chen Xiaoya, the previous gentleness gone from his gaze.

"Send them to Class Eight first."

Chen Xiaoya's heart suddenly sank.