This phone call was getting on his nerves. William Bennett said irritably, "He’s sitting right behind me. If you need anything, go find him yourself." With that, he turned and handed his phone toward the desk behind him—only to find it completely empty. That bastard named Edward Harris had actually grown legs and run off.

Author’s note: Yesterday, due to the weather, my flight landed and I got home at 3 a.m. I kept revising and only posted this in the morning. My apologies. I’ve been really busy lately, which is why I haven’t dared to promise an update schedule. Please don’t let waiting for updates affect your rest, or I’ll feel terribly guilty.

Chapter 6: Catching Someone

"Hello, is this Xiao Tian? This is your Uncle Bennett." On the other end, Martin Bennett thought he was talking to someone else and immediately became much more polite.

William Bennett glanced around and replied, "Hello, Uncle Bennett, I’m your son, William Bennett."

Martin Bennett: "..."

"Screw you." Martin Bennett snapped, "Didn’t you say you’d give the phone to Xiao Tian?"

"I did, but he’s gone."

"What do you mean?" Martin Bennett was clearly taken aback. "What do you mean, he’s gone?"

"He’s just not in the classroom."

On the other end, Martin Bennett covered the phone and whispered to someone, then said to William Bennett, "Don’t hang up yet. I’ll have your Aunt Harris ask around."

William Bennett rolled his eyes and tossed the phone back onto the desk.

A few classmates had been walking over, probably wanting to chat about the exam. Seeing he was on the phone, they stopped, greeted him, and left.

In just a few minutes, William Bennett was the only one left in the classroom.

Bored, he fiddled with his backpack strap, listening as the noisy voices faded away like the tide, from the hallway to the stairs, then disappeared completely. The whole top floor fell silent.

He stared at the phone screen, still showing "in call," and suddenly remembered that there was a time like this when he was little. Back then, his mother had just passed away, and maybe to keep his mind off things, Martin Bennett insisted on picking him up from school every day.

Business was always hectic during critical periods, and Martin Bennett was often late. William Bennett would do his homework while waiting. Every time he finished his homework and the other students had all left, Martin Bennett would finally arrive, carrying his backpack and apologizing over and over, calling him "Wangzai" this and "Wangzai" that.

Later, when they got a driver, Little Brooks, William Bennett rarely had to wait anymore. After that, he protested several times, and Martin Bennett stopped calling him "Wangzai" as much.

Suddenly, the sound of high heels—"tap tap tap"—echoed in the hallway. William Bennett snapped back to reality and looked over. He saw a figure with long, straight hair pass by the window. Just from her posture, he could tell it was their English teacher, Grace Reed.

William Bennett had been here three days and hadn’t even had an English class, but this teacher had left the deepest impression on him. That’s because the old hands in Class A would turn pale at the mention of "Jing." Just hearing "Jing-jie is looking for you" was enough to scare them stiff.

From what he’d heard, William Bennett thought their English teacher must be a demon.

But when he actually saw her, he realized that wasn’t the case. Grace Reed was tall and slender, her features not exactly beautiful, with rather high cheekbones, but when she stood in a crowd, she was definitely the most striking one.

Tap tap tap.

Grace Reed walked past, then came back, chin raised as she knocked on the door.

"Jing—" William Bennett, brainwashed for so long, almost blurted out "Jing-jie," but managed to stop himself: "Teacher Reed."

"Mm." Grace Reed asked, "Still here? What are you doing?"

She spoke quickly and always kept her chin slightly raised. Even ordinary words sounded like an interrogation coming from her.

But William Bennett was never afraid of teachers. He smiled and said, "Waiting for someone."

"Oh." Grace Reed glanced at his desk. "You’re pretty bold, leaving your phone right under my nose like that?"

William Bennett froze, grabbed his phone, and silently handed it over.

The young master was a pro at pretending to behave. Grace Reed arched her slender brows, swept her gaze around the empty classroom, then looked him up and down. "Why are you giving it to me? I’m not Ms. Xu. Take it to the discipline office yourself."

With that, she walked off in her high heels.

William Bennett put the phone back on the desk. Just as he was about to let go, the person on the other end said, "Hey."

"I’m here, go ahead," William Bennett replied perfunctorily.

"Owen Harris called him."

"Called who?" William Bennett almost didn’t catch on, then went, "Oh, Edward Harris? He brought his phone? Didn’t think he had the guts."

Martin Bennett said irritably, "Who are you muttering about? Call him ‘brother’ from now on."

"No way, forget it." With no one else around, William Bennett was blunt.

Martin Bennett was good at handling his own son. Since William Bennett refused, he changed the subject: "Owen Harris said your brother was called to the teacher’s office."

Damn...

William Bennett mouthed a curse.

"If you don’t say anything, how am I supposed to know what you’re thinking?" Martin Bennett teased. "Alright, just go home with Uncle Little Brooks first."

"Oh, so I don’t have to wait anymore?" William Bennett asked coolly.

He vaguely heard Owen Harris whispering on the other end: "Maybe it’s for a competition or something else. It happens a lot—sometimes he doesn’t get home until 11. Don’t make Little William wait, just have him come back."

What kind of teacher could keep someone until 11? William Bennett picked up his backpack, puzzled, and headed for the door.