When Mo Huasong returned to his school classroom, their ancient literature teacher, Yan Congjing, was teaching the class.
Yan Congjing, in his forties, cut a self-righteous figure.
Seeing Mo Huasong just now coming to class, he was infuriated, and exclaimed, "Mo Huasong, you're definitely failing this semester."
"And why wouldn't I pass?" Mo Huasong stared coldly at Yan Congjing.
Yan Congjing was a very opportunistic teacher. He had once tried to take advantage of a female student and got caught by Mo Huasong, leading to him making things difficult for him ever since, ensuring he had to take make-up exams for every topic in ancient literature.
"Why? Because you don't attend my classes. You don't attend, you'll perform poorly, and thus you'll fail," Yan Congjing sneered dismissively.
Before he started teaching his class, he had already looked through all the students' files.
