The Chinese language teacher came over, her gaze swept over Ruge and the Chinese book in front of her, finally fixing on the seat behind Ruge.
The other students had placed their textbooks neatly, but Ji Yanche's desk was empty.
The homeroom teacher spoke sternly, "Ji Yanche, where is your textbook?"
"Sorry teacher, I forgot to bring it."
"You forgot to bring it and you're saying it so confidently? What are you here for if not to bring your textbook to school?"
Ji Yanche didn't try to explain, just listened, and finally replied with a cheeky smile, "You're right, teacher, I was too careless this time. It won't happen again. By the way, you're prettiest when you're not angry!"
Ji Yanche had been very good looking since he was a child, a real little cutie, a favorite among other teachers.
But the homeroom teacher wasn't swayed by his charm, pushed up her glasses, and said, "Stop with the cheeky smiles, you'll stand and listen for this class!"
"Yes—"
