He Qingyan strode forward, as unruffled as the person sitting in the back of a bus when faced with giving up their seat—her art supplies hadn't arrived either.
"Gu Ran," Su Qing looked over at Gu Ran.
"Me again?" Gu Ran said.
The corners of Su Qing's mouth turned up slightly; she knew that Gu Ran liked to be well-prepared for everything. This was no fluke or attempt at playing tricks, just a playful exercise of authority.
"Come on," Su Qing made room for him.
This time, Su Qing was mistaken.
Gu Ran had written a "self-criticism" last night, thinking that since he had just done a demonstration, it wouldn't be his turn again the very next day, so he hadn't prepared well.
It was just out of curiosity that he had given it a few glances.
After all, the main goal was to cure the illness; it didn't matter if the teaching was correct or not. With this mindset, Gu Ran took the stage.
