Wu Ji, you dumbass, you've killed me.
At this moment, Sun Ye's forehead was covered in cold sweat.
He was well aware of how much weight a third-class merit carried.
Plus, with the student being in their senior year of high school, not to recruit them into his own school—if the dean found out, he'd be dead meat.
What to do, should I make a call back home?
Or pretend I didn't know anything?
No can do, we're in S City, such a huge deal—how could I not know about it.
If I went back empty-handed, they would skin me alive.
Dammit, what to do, I've already offended the person to death.
At this very moment, Sun Ye felt like he was about to explode.
Fucking hell, I was just having hotpot with Wu Ji last night, how could this bastard not tell me something so important.
A third-class merit, who gives a damn about grades after that?
Sun Ye truly felt like beating Wu Ji to death, how could you not mention such an important thing.
