At this moment, Tanya Sinclair was already on her way to the third floor, led by the manager, to the private room where Principal Preston was. She immediately noticed two groups of bodyguards outside the private room. One group stood upright, wearing plain clothes but exuding a strong military aura, clearly soldiers with long-term training. The other group of bodyguards, dressed in black, had a menacing look; despite wearing long sleeves and pants, their muscular build was evident, looking like they were from an unconventional background. Tanya concluded in her mind that Principal Preston was meeting two important figures, from different fields. The manager left Tanya there and quickly walked away without hesitating. In the elevator, Tanya had already sent a message to Principal Preston. She waited two minutes at the door, and then it opened, with Principal Preston coming out. The door was left ajar behind him, wide enough to see half a person inside. Tanya couldn’t resist glancing inside. She caught sight of a glimpse of a man’s profile. The man was sitting not quite upright, half-reclining lazily against the chair back, but with excellent posture and a natural, graceful frame, his demeanor was strikingly appealing. It’s a shame Tanya could only see the lower half of his profile from this angle, with strikingly sharp and refined features like a masterpiece crafted by a top artisan. His lips were thin but perfectly shaped. They looked... very kissable. This thought unexpectedly popped into Tanya’s head, and she quickly averted her gaze. This man was too wild, too young, definitely not the big shot protected by the security guards, so... Tanya glanced out of the corner of her eye at the massive fists of the black-clad bodyguards beside them. She neatly folded her hands in front of her and focused solely on Principal Preston coming out, with no other distractions. "Long time no see, Tanya." Principal Preston last saw Tanya seven years ago, at her graduation ceremony. At that time, Principal Preston, as an official representative of the Ministry of Education, attended the graduation ceremony at Northwood University. The once high-spirited and brilliant Tanya Sinclair from seven years ago hasn’t changed much in appearance, but she looks much more worn out now. Principal Preston lamented in his heart, seven years. A genius in the best seven years of her life. He handed the key to Tanya, telling her to return it to the school security department after use. "What happened to your hand? Such a large scrape?" When Tanya reached out to take it, Principal Preston noticed the wound on her palm and frowned slightly. Tanya glanced at it and said indifferently, "I accidentally fell when I first came in; it’s nothing serious, it doesn’t hurt." Despite her frail appearance, she was incredibly enduring, able to swallow pain, hardship, and grievances in silence... she was most adept at that. The private room was very quiet. Minister Ford went behind a screen to take a confidential call. Declan Pierce remained seated, slightly lowered his head, playing a game on his phone. A gentle, unbothered female voice seeped through the door. "It’s nothing serious, it doesn’t hurt..." On the screen, a jumping little character had just flown into the air when the hand controlling it suddenly released its grip. The character was hit by a plane flying straight at it, resulting in a screen full of splattered blood. "There’s no way it doesn’t hurt," he commented sarcastically, his expression unmoved. His long lashes lowered, concealing the emotions in his eyes, leaving only a dark shadow on his eyelid. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net So thick it couldn’t be dispersed. After watching Principal Preston return to the private room, Tanya turned and left. As she reached the elevator, suddenly a female server came quickly towards her. "Excuse me, are you Ms. Sinclair?" Tanya had no idea, "I am Tanya Sinclair. Is there something you need?" The server confirmed she had the right person and then said, "Ms. Sinclair, I heard you got injured at our hotel. Our lounge is right next door. Please come with me; there’s a first-aid kit inside, I’ll help you treat it." Tanya was slightly taken aback, then glanced down at the scrape on her palm. "Was it your manager who instructed you?" The server was about to deny it but remembered the guest’s advice from the private room and swallowed her words. "Yes, if I don’t treat your wound, my wages will be docked." Tanya, who naturally disliked troubling others, originally intended to refuse. After all, the injury was only slightly painful and not serious, and she had caused it herself; she could handle it simply when she got home. But hearing that an innocent server’s wages might be docked, she agreed. "Alright, please hurry. I’m in a rush." The server sighed in relief. She led Tanya to the nearby lounge, quickly took out the first-aid kit, and treated her wound. "All done, Ms. Sinclair." "..." Tanya looked at the bandaged wound, moved her hand a bit, and found that the tearing pain had significantly lessened. Because of family issues, she was often bullied at school when she was a child. There were no parents to stand up for her, and she didn’t want to worry her grandfather, so she kept silent even when hurt, telling herself quietly that it didn’t hurt, it was okay. Maybe it was due to her self-hypnosis, but later on, she indeed wasn’t afraid of pain anymore. Or rather, enduring it became her subconscious reflex. The more she endured, the more those around her accepted that she wouldn’t feel pain. But there was an exception. Tanya’s mind wandered for a moment. A handsome, cold face from her teenage years surfaced, crowned with a head of bright golden hair, rebellious. He eyed her coolly, "Tanya Sinclair, are you mute? If it hurts, just cry out." "What does it matter to you? Declan, do you live by the seaside?" Tanya felt like all her bad temper in this lifetime was probably spent on Declan Pierce. And the Declan Pierce she remembered was indeed quite annoying. He would leap down from the platform, and his towering figure would loom over her like a descending cage. The boy would lean in, that excessively handsome face coming uncomfortably close, closing in at an intimate distance. He’d squint dangerously and suddenly flick her forehead. She would cry out in pain. He’d grin mischievously, "See, you called out in the end, what was so difficult about it?" At the time, she was so mad she wanted to smack him with a book. "Ms. Sinclair?" The server’s voice pulled Tanya out of her memory. "Thank you." Tanya smiled gratefully at her and got up to leave. And from the corner behind her, a man’s tall and poised figure ambled out slowly. "Mr. Pierce." The server came out and approached Declan Pierce. Seeing his face up close gave her a real dizzying sense of awe. She didn’t dare make eye contact, her heart racing, her face warming as she reported respectfully to Declan, "Ms. Sinclair’s wound has been treated, it’s not serious, just some scraped skin, it surely must hurt a bit. It shouldn’t leave a scar." Declan silently watched in the direction Tanya left, after a while, he withdrew his gaze, and said lightly, "Alright, thank you for your trouble."