He wore a hat, keeping a very low profile as he hid himself in the shadows. Although he wasn’t as smart as The Vault, he was still someone with an elite education and high academic credentials, so he found The Vault’s lectures quite fascinating.

　　Everything was still normal at this point, nothing out of the ordinary. Seeing his girlfriend so popular, Julian Grant felt a surge of pride and happiness inside.

　　As the class was about to end, a young teacher hurried up to the front. He stood at the podium, hands braced on the desk, and began discussing the critical thinking question that The Vault had assigned.

　　Both of them spoke in calm, unhurried tones, their discussion logical and clear. Every now and then, they’d toss in a lighthearted joke, making the conversation very engaging. The students were so absorbed that they simply stayed seated, not wanting to leave.

　　Julian Grant stared at the man’s face projected on the screen, and the more he looked, the more something felt off.

　　Even with little experience in romance, he could still tell the difference between a look of curiosity and a look of affection. That man was gazing at The Vault with such deep emotion, he might as well have had a confession written across his face.

　　After a few exchanges, the young man grew bolder. When he pointed at the question on the board, he leaned in, seemingly unintentionally. If The Vault hadn’t politely stepped back half a pace, the two of them might have ended up practically touching.

　　The man’s tone was also overly familiar, as if they’d known each other for a long time.

　　This kind of using work as an excuse to get close to The Vault was truly shameless.

　　Julian Grant pressed the brim of his hat down with two fingers, hiding his brooding gaze in the shadows. He took out his phone and sent The Vault a text, asking when she’d be coming home. Unfortunately, the person on stage was so engrossed in the discussion that she didn’t notice the phone notification.

　　Julian Grant grew increasingly frustrated, put his phone away, and a chill began to radiate from him.

　　Apparently, he wasn’t the only one feeling this way. While Julian Grant was waiting patiently, he overheard two girls nearby, unable to contain their excitement, whispering to each other.

　　“Teacher Zhao is so handsome! He and The Vault make such a great pair! He graduated from the gifted youth program too, right? He’s so good-looking and such a gentleman.”

　　“Don’t say that, The Vault has a boyfriend.”

　　“You mean Quincy? He seems a bit silly, and no one even knows what he really looks like. I feel like he and The Vault probably don’t have much in common.”

　　“That’s just an illusion. Anyone working in criminal case analysis has a strong academic background. You can’t just use the boss as a benchmark—next to her, even smart people seem a bit slow.”

　　“But Teacher Zhao isn’t just any smart person!”

　　“That’s true…”

　　If it weren’t for Julian Grant’s years of good upbringing, he would have stood up right then and there and shouted a curse in those girls’ faces.

　　Julian Grant was unhappy. Julian Grant was in a bad mood. Julian Grant… could only swallow his frustration.

　　He shot the two of them a fierce sideways glare, and unable to hold back any longer, got up and walked straight to the podium.

　　The Vault was in the middle of speaking. When she looked up and saw Julian Grant, she immediately stopped. She nodded at Julian Grant from across half the classroom, started packing up her teaching materials, and said without any hesitation, “That’s all for today. I’m heading home. I’ll talk about this question next class.”

　　The young man in the white shirt beside her looked a bit disappointed, but quickly put on a smile and asked gently, “How about we have a meal together sometime?”

　　The students in the front row heard this and started to cheer loudly.

　　The Vault glanced at Julian Grant’s expression from afar and replied perfunctorily, “We’ll see.”

　　After that, The Vault left with Julian Grant.

　　The memory ended abruptly. Julian Grant raised his hand to wipe his face, sighing inwardly. He sat up straight, stretched out his arm, grabbed a bottle of drink from his desk, twisted it open, and took a swig.

　　Because it was just a small matter, he couldn’t really use it as an excuse to pick a fight with The Vault. It wasn’t his girlfriend’s fault—the school was just too dangerous.

　　Julian Grant was in no mood to work, his mind cluttered with all sorts of odd thoughts, and after several hours, he’d barely made any progress. Looking at the pile of unfinished documents on his desk, he simply decided to exercise his boss’s privilege and openly skip work to go home.

　　In less than ten minutes, he was already standing at his familiar front door.

　　Julian Grant made his way to the study as usual, taking off his suit jacket as he walked. Just as he was about to turn the doorknob, he heard The Vault’s clear voice.

　　Julian Grant paused, pushed open the door, and came face to face with her. The Vault also looked a bit surprised, holding a mouse in her hand and looking up at him in confusion.

　　Julian Grant blinked: “You—wait, why are you at home?”

　　The Vault quickly returned to normal, her face expressionless as she said, “I switched to online classes, so I came back.”

　　“Oh…” Julian Grant realized, feeling a bit happy inside. The corners of his mouth lifted, but afraid The Vault would notice, he raised his hand to cover half his face and said casually, “I see.”

　　The Vault asked, “Do you need the study?”

　　Julian Grant quickly replied, “No, no, I’ll use the room next door. You go ahead with your class.”

　　Julian Grant closed the door, and The Vault continued setting up the livestream parameters.

　　Although it wasn’t time for class yet, the number of online listeners was already close to a thousand. The comment section was especially lively, with people spamming flower emojis and all sorts of greetings. When Julian Grant appeared, they paused for a moment, then started spamming question marks.

　　“Why switch to online classes?” The Vault glanced at the comments and replied, “Because it’s quiet at home. I don’t like being disturbed during class.”

　　A bunch of students replied: “We won’t disturb you! [crying emoji]”

　　“Teacher, we’re very well-behaved in class!”

　　“What counts as disturbing you? We can change!”

　　“Mm.” The Vault responded casually, “It’s just more convenient at home.”

　　She pulled up the courseware and began the lecture. She had just started when the study door was knocked on again.

　　The Vault paused and looked toward the door. Julian Grant came in carrying a plate of fruit and set it on her desk.

　　The camera caught his hand—long fingers, well-defined knuckles, with his shirt sleeve rolled up to reveal a silver watch on his wrist.

　　The Vault nodded, “Thank you.”

　　A few comments flashed by:

　　“What brand is that watch?”

　　“It’s not a luxury brand, just tens of thousands. Seems like this year’s new model. A mainstream brand.”

　　“Quincy has nice hands. So can Quincy appear on camera?”

　　Seeing Julian Grant leave, The Vault replied decisively, “No, he likes to keep a low profile.”

　　“Quincy doesn’t seem that rich.”

　　“Even though he works for Trident, he’s still just an employee. How rich could he be?”

　　“Why the sarcasm? With Quincy’s salary, he could buy a watch worth hundreds of thousands if he wanted, but is it necessary? Wouldn’t it be better to spend that money on improving quality of life? Do you really think everyone’s brainwashed by consumerism?”

　　“The house doesn’t look that big either. Could it be that Quincy isn’t as rich as the boss?”

　　“Come on, you think the boss is short on money?”

　　The Vault grew annoyed and muted a few of the more opinionated accounts.

　　Because there were so many students, and many from other schools wanted to attend, The Vault chose Trident’s public platform and didn’t set any restrictions on the livestream room, so a lot of onlookers joined in. These people weren’t really paying attention to the class, just chatting idly and seriously affecting the classroom atmosphere.

　　The moderator saw her start muting people and understood her intent, so they took over and began ruthlessly banning accounts.

　　The Vault organized her thoughts and continued with the previous question.

　　Less than five minutes later, Julian Grant tiptoed in again, passed behind her, and took the laptop from her desk.

　　The camera happened to catch his slim waist—through the fitted white shirt, you could still see the explosive strength of his muscles.

　　“Nice waist!”

　　“Let Quincy be on camera!”

　　“I have reason to suspect Quincy is trying to steal the spotlight.”

　　“Working at Trident is great, you can skip work and go home anytime.”

　　“Men in uniform are so attractive.”

　　“I’m here, shipping this couple? I’m in!”

　　The Vault frowned in displeasure and stopped lecturing.

　　She glanced at the upper right corner of the room and saw that the number of people online was approaching 100,000. It must have been netizens flocking in to joke around in the comments.

　　No wonder a perfectly good education channel had turned into an entertainment channel.

　　Just as The Vault was about to scold them, there was a soft sound as the door was pushed open a crack. Julian Grant stood outside, and they looked at each other.

　　Seeing his cautious expression, The Vault almost wanted to laugh and took the initiative to ask, “What is it?”

　　Julian Grant whispered, “Did I disturb you?”

　　“No,” The Vault replied calmly, “I’m just having them do practice questions.”

　　“Oh.” Julian Grant squeezed in a bit and asked, “Which livestream room are you in?”

　　The Vault gave him the room number, and Julian Grant quickly memorized it. “Okay, that’s all. You go ahead with your class.”

　　The room returned to silence. The Vault clicked the mouse to turn to the next page of the courseware, her eyes moving as she glanced at the comments out of the corner of her eye.

　　“…Likes quiet?”

　　“Doesn’t like being disturbed? Huh?”