When Ethan Grant received this WeChat message, he looked up and gazed at the swaying silhouette reflected on the curtain opposite, squinting his eyes.

Some people are just asking for trouble.

But it seemed he could already start to smell the scent of pheromones, so the differentiation period must be approaching.

Author’s note:

So, once differentiated, does that mean you can deal with them?

Chapter 4

When Ethan Brooks got up in the morning and saw the cold, empty kitchen and dining room, he was momentarily stunned.

Where’s my breakfast?

“Ding dong”—WeChat notification.

Ms. Harris: [The auntie’s son is sick, she’s taken a week off. Go across the hall and grab something to eat yourself.]

Ms. Harris: [By the way, let me show you the candlelight dinner your dad made himself.]

Ms. Harris: [Steak.jpg]

I must be an accident.

Ethan Brooks felt the world was too heartless to him.

He didn’t have the nerve to go freeload at someone else’s place so early in the morning, so he irritably scratched his hair, his face full of sleepy gloom, grabbed an umbrella at random, and headed out the door—where a black Bentley was already parked.

At least they left him Uncle Bolton.

Ethan Brooks let out a breath of relief, but when he opened the car door, that breath caught in his throat.

Why was Ethan Grant in his family’s car? And sitting in the back seat? And holding a lunchbox?

The result of getting up early was a foggy brain. While questioning this, Ethan Brooks sat down next to Ethan Grant and closed the car door.

It wasn’t until the car started moving that he finally asked in a daze, “You just transferred and you’re already skipping morning self-study?”

Because he really couldn’t manage to get up at six in the morning, Ethan Brooks had a special exemption from morning self-study, thanks to the double guarantee from Ms. Harris and the top student in the grade. He only needed to arrive before the first class at eight.

But why should Ethan Grant get the same privilege? Could he get first in the grade?

He couldn’t.

Ethan Grant lowered his head, opened the lunchbox, and said calmly, “Grandpa says I’m not in good health, so I should sleep more in the morning.”

Ethan Brooks honestly couldn’t see what was wrong with his health. The school leaders really must have been blinded by the “柏” in his name.

“I am deeply pained by Grandpa Grant’s spoiling of his grandson.”

“Likewise.” Ethan Grant handed over the lunchbox.

A bowl of wontons.

Ethan Brooks took the bowl, very politely: “Thank you, Grandpa Grant.”

“No need to call me grandpa.”

“……”

Ethan Brooks felt he shouldn’t have skipped the words “for me.”

“Brother would be fine.”

“Heh, you still owe me a ‘dad’.”

Ethan Grant raised his eyebrows but didn’t argue.

Ethan Brooks noticed that as long as this guy wasn’t wearing glasses, he looked especially punchable, and he also realized the glasses didn’t even have a prescription—no idea what he was pretending for.

But since he was eating someone else’s food, he’d let it go for now.

However, after stirring the wontons a couple of times, he still couldn’t bring himself to eat.

Ethan Grant glanced over, took the bowl back, and handed him a box of cookies: “Eat this first.”

Then he picked up a pair of chopsticks and started picking out the cilantro.

When the auntie was cooking, he hadn’t known there was no one at Ethan Brooks’s house, so he hadn’t had a chance to remind her. Luckily, there were only a few sprigs of cilantro for garnish, and they weren’t chopped up, so he quickly picked them out.

When the clean bowl of wontons was handed back to Ethan Brooks, he swallowed his cookie and gasped, “Damn, Master Grant is awesome, actually restored the innocence of this bowl of wontons!”

So, adding cilantro to wontons makes them lose their innocence?

Ethan Grant thought this guy had a problem with the way he talked.

But that “Master Grant” was acceptable.

After eating his fill, Ethan Brooks remembered to return the favor and poked Ethan Grant’s arm: “I still haven’t helped you check the last comprehensive physics problem from last night. Want to take it out now? Mr. Ethan can explain it to you.”

“No need, we’ll be at school soon.”

“You said it yourself, don’t regret it. If you bomb the placement test, don’t blame me.”

“I won’t. My grades are decent.”

“……”

Yeah, pretty decent—the top scorer in North City.

This guy could really compete with him in showing off.

Ethan Brooks grumbled inwardly as he got out of the car, but didn’t forget to hold the umbrella and wait for Ethan Grant.

The rain was no lighter than yesterday, but when they got to the classroom, Ethan Grant’s light brown hair still lay obediently on his forehead, not at all messed up like the day before.

-

Since it was just a placement test and the students at South Foreign were generally self-disciplined, there was no formal exam seating; everyone just sat in their usual seats.

Chinese in the morning, math and English in the afternoon, science comprehensive during evening self-study.

All finished in one day, not planning to leave the students a single hair.

To give these seniors a wake-up call and motivate them to work hard, the placement test was made as difficult as possible, and the first and second floors of the North Building were filled with wails of despair.

South Foreign divides classes by grades, from Class 1 to Class 5, so in theory, the atmosphere in Senior 3 Class 1 should be the most relaxed.

It actually was pretty relaxed, and they thought they could handle the difficulty, but unfortunately, their class had two big bosses.