Qin Hao didn't take this matter to heart as he strolled leisurely toward the classroom. There was just one lesson this morning, and after that he would be free.
However, before Qin Hao could even reach the classroom, a phone call came through.
"Old man, what do you want?" Qin Hao was somewhat surprised, as the caller was his father.
But his father rarely called him proactively, and something about this world didn't seem quite right—it should have been evening.
"I have a friend who has run into a bit of trouble and asked for my help," came a steady, male voice from the other end, carrying a hint of laughter and ease.
"Oh, then go ahead and help them, I've got my own things to do, goodbye." Qin Hao finished and immediately hung up the phone.
He understood his father very well; the man was a classic example of someone who'd throw his child under the bus. There had to be a catch since his father was calling him now.
