Maxwell Peary raised an eyebrow as he sat in his large, comfortable chair. This little habit of hers is not at all endearing. When Rabina Mitchell returns, I’ll have to teach her a lesson. But, if one might be so bold as to ask, Young Master Peary, would you truly have the heart to do it? Meanwhile, outside the restaurant, after Nia Mitchell hung up the phone, she turned and went back to her seat. Two or three young women had already gathered around Charles Northwood, all dressed provocatively, constantly rubbing up against him. "Professor Northwood, I heard you’re supervising the Chinese Department’s papers. Could you give me some guidance?" Busty Lady A spoke sweetly, even throwing Charles Northwood a flirtatious glance as she did. "Oh my, Professor Northwood promised me first! I need the professor’s guidance too," Long-legged Lady B immediately chimed in, pressing closer. Her relentless pestering was, well, quite something. "Professor Northwood, I took your class before. Do you remember me?" Sharp-faced Lady C blinked at Charles Northwood, her expression a picture of innocence. "Everyone has their own thesis advisor. It’s not my responsibility to guide you. Too many people take my elective courses; I really can’t remember everyone." Although Charles Northwood was refined and gentle by nature, he wasn’t one to be indecisive or let things drag on. He generally refused such advances if he could, determined not to invite trouble for himself. Sure enough, his words made the smiles on the three young women’s faces vanish instantly, and an awkwardness enveloped them. "Heh. Professor Northwood really loves to joke," Busty Lady A said, pointedly adjusting her low-cut top as if by chance, standing there with a smile plastered on her face. Judging by Busty Lady A’s reaction alone, anyone who didn’t know better might actually think Charles Northwood was joking. "Are you all students at University A?" Charles Northwood suddenly quirked his lips into a smile. He looked up at the three of them; a certain professor with an almost supernatural memory had already memorized their faces. "Do you all still want to graduate this year?" It was a simple, direct question, delivered by Charles Northwood with an air of utter nonchalance. "Er, Professor Northwood, we were just joking with you." The three of them suddenly took a few steps back, wishing they had never appeared there in the first place. Charles Northwood smirked. After they retreated, he happened to see Nia Mitchell standing not far away. "Um, it’s quite lively over here," Nia Mitchell remarked. Realizing her eavesdropping had been discovered, she guiltily stuck out her tongue. "I didn’t see a thing." After she sat down, she could feel the gazes of the three young women fixed on her. Ugh, she really couldn’t stand this. "Um..." Nia Mitchell began, looking at Charles Northwood and then gesturing with her finger towards the three women still lingering nearby. "You may leave now," Charles Northwood said to them. "Yes, Professor Northwood." Seeing the three of them leave, Nia Mitchell finally breathed a sigh of relief. "So, tell me, how many times has this happened?" she asked. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩·𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢·𝔫𝔢𝔱 Charles Northwood had encountered situations so many times over the years. Getting hit on! TSK TSK. Are women these days all so forward? "Or rather, why don’t you tell me who you were on the phone with?" Charles Northwood countered, raising an eyebrow. Although Nia Mitchell had stepped out to take the call and he hadn’t heard anything, her expression clearly showed she was flustered and shy. "Huh? I was... with a friend." She bit her lip, lowered her head, and incessantly poked at the white rice in her bowl with her chopsticks, chanting inwardly, Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask. Please, I’m begging you, don’t ask any more. But, of course, that was all for naught. "How come I never knew you had such... close friends?" Charles Northwood picked up his teacup and took a sip of tea. Watching Nia Mitchell keep her head down , he felt a sense of helplessness. Hendry Hampton. It must be that scumbag, Hendry Hampton. I’ll definitely make this Hampton pay the price. Poor Young Master Hampton, caught in the crossfire again for no reason.