In mid-November, the school will be soliciting teachers’ preferences. Intentions for courses to teach next semester and available times for classes need to be submitted, and the school will make unified arrangements. Eric Clark only signed up for two courses; even if he gets both, that’s just six class periods a week, so his schedule is quite relaxed.

Because he expects that next semester won’t be too free for him. In the spring, he usually has to help Director Grant review theses. Director Grant has been supervising master’s students in recent years, and revising graduation theses in the spring takes a lot of energy. He always sends a couple of students to Eric Clark, asking him to help check their work, revising back and forth before finally submitting it to Director Grant. Eric Clark himself has also applied for two research projects, so he plans to leave himself more time next semester.

Besides, he still has to pursue someone. Although there’s still some time before that, he has to set aside time just in case he hasn’t succeeded by then—he’ll need to keep working at it.

Director looked at the preferences he submitted and wasn’t too satisfied: “Only two? This semester you signed up for four and only got two. If you only sign up for two, you’ll probably only get one, and if the academic affairs office gets unpredictable, they might not give you any.”

Eric Clark smiled and said, “It’s fine, I’ll at least get one. And if I have free time, so be it. Otherwise, some teachers in my teaching group are already upset. If I have free time, I’ll just wait until the fall.”

“You’re pretty easygoing.” Director glared at him, probably thinking he lacked ambition.

Eric Clark poured a glass of water for Director and set it by his hand. He knew Director was actually looking out for him. Since he joined the school, Director had been taking care of him both openly and behind the scenes. Eric Clark said, “The academic affairs office will always save me a spot for your sake.”

Director looked back at him, pointed at him, and said, “Just wait, I’ll go tell Mr. Clark on you.”

Eric Clark smiled, “Mr. Clark is still thinking about inviting you over for dinner.”

No wonder Director looks out for Eric Clark so much—when others can’t teach, Eric Clark can. That’s because Eric Clark has known Director Bolton since he was a kid. Back then, he was the class monitor in Mr. Clark Sr.’s class and often ate at Eric Clark’s house.

After leaving Director’s office, Eric Clark received another video from Ryan Turner. In the video, Adam Wright was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants, bending over with a pair of scissors, unwrapping flower packaging over a trash can.

Every time he saw Adam Wright handling roses in a video, Eric Clark found it quite captivating. It made his heart feel soft, as if Adam Wright wasn’t arranging flowers, but rather toying with his heart.

But Adam Wright’s way of handling them was pretty simple—just unwrapping the paper and sticking the flowers in a bucket of water every day. According to Ryan Turner, the boss felt it was disrespectful to just throw them away.

Eric Clark knew that Adam Wright’s heart wasn’t as cold as his face; sometimes he was actually quite soft-hearted. That made him even more charming. Anyway, in a fanboy’s eyes, Adam Wright was perfect—no need to say more.

That weekend, Eric Clark couldn’t resist going to the shop, and Adam Wright happened to be there. Ryan Turner waved at him cheerfully, and after greeting her, Eric Clark went to the back room. Inside, Jack Morgan was squatting on a chair playing a game. When he saw Eric Clark, he whistled, “Long time no see, Flower God.”

Eric Clark flicked his forehead. “Where’s your big brother?”

Jack Morgan tilted his head back, pointing to the room behind him. “Chatting with a friend.”

Eric Clark nodded and sat down on the chair next to Jack Morgan. Since Adam Wright was chatting, he definitely wouldn’t go in. He was used to it anyway, so he pulled a book from the shelf and started flipping through it.

Jack Morgan kept his eyes on the screen, only moving his mouth to talk: “Later you can check out the flowers you sent.”

“Sure,” Eric Clark smiled, “I was just wondering why I hadn’t seen them.”

“There are three buckets now. We’ve used up all our buckets here, and I even went out to buy another one.” Jack Morgan laughed exaggeratedly. Sometimes when this kid laughed, he sounded like a donkey. After laughing, he said, “Yesterday after work, I gave a client a bunch of flowers—about ten stems. You don’t mind, right?”

Eric Clark said, “I don’t mind, give them away as you like.”

“Really?” Jack Morgan glanced at him, then turned back and said, “My big brother turned down several girls who wanted flowers, saying it wasn’t polite to give them away. So I’ll tell him later that my Brother Clark actually doesn’t mind.”

Eric Clark picked up the book in his hand and knocked it on Jack Morgan’s shoulder without holding back: “You brat, don’t get cheeky.”

Jack Morgan laughed his donkey laugh again, giving him a sidelong glance: “Feeling pretty pleased, aren’t you?”

Eric Clark shrugged, “A little bit.”

The door to the other room opened, and someone inside, hearing the noise, came out and asked Jack Morgan, “Xiao Beibei, what are you laughing about?”

“I’m just chatting. Are you guys done talking?” Jack Morgan asked.

“What’s there to finish? We’re just shooting the breeze. Who’s this?” The person looked at Eric Clark and asked.

Jack Morgan had just finished his game, took off his headset, stood up and stretched, saying as he did, “This is Eric Clark, my big brother’s friend.”

“Well, what a coincidence, I’m your big brother’s friend too, so we’re all friends, right?” The person smiled and reached out a hand. Eric Clark went over and shook it, saying, “Eric Clark.”

The person said, “David Reed.”

Adam Wright came out of the room, and Eric Clark raised his eyebrows at him as a greeting. Adam Wright nodded at him and sat down on the sofa.

David Reed asked him, “About what I just mentioned, make a decision soon. Once you decide, I’ll see if we’re taking one car or two.”