Chapter 3
Chapter 3
The next day, a curious crowd of students surrounded the seniors in Class 1 at Greenmeadow International School.
"Is that the new transfer student?"-
"I heard she's the Delaney kid who went missing for eighteen years, and they finally found her in some rural orphanage."
"A country bumpkin, huh? Can she even understand our foreign language teacher's lectures?"
"Can she keep up with our dance classes or the piano lessons? Has she ever even touched a piano?"
In the midst of the scoffs, a differing voice piped up, "But, she's pretty hot."
Everyone's gaze shifted to the back of the classroom, where Cordelia was reading a book.
She sat there quietly, her pale fingers holding a set of practice exams, her hair neatly tied in a ponytail, revealing a perfect forehead. In her black and white uniform, she exuded an air of scholarly poise, her expressionless face focused on the test papers, and her beautiful eyes veiled in a mist.
A few boys nearby couldn't take their eyes off her.
Most students at Greenmeadow International School came from wealthy families, used to seeing all kinds of starlets and beauties, but a beauty like Cordelia was rare.
Seeing the boys attracted, a girl's voice pierced the air sharply, "Juliana, why is your cousin ignoring everyone? Is she that stuck-up?"
Juliana glanced at the handsome boy beside her, her eyes flickering. "Don't say that. My cousin’s just a bit slow on the uptake. She's new and might need everyone's help with her studies."
"Slow on the uptake? So, she's a ditz, huh?"
"No wonder she looks so dull and dim!"
The class president complained, "If she's a ditz, she shouldn't be in our class. There's a baseline test today, and what if she drags down our class average?"
Class 1 was the elite class of the school, where each student carried a sense of pride.
"Why is she even in our class?"
Someone suddenly remarked, "Could it be for Hanley Foster?" Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.
Hearing that, everyone looked at the school heartthrob, Hanley.
It was well-known in their circles that the Delaney and Foster families had an arranged engagement, a typical alliance of wealth. But since the Delaney family’s eldest daughter went missing, the agreement defaulted to Juliana.
Since Cordelia was back, could it be she wanted to reclaim Hanley?
Someone nudged Hanley's shoulder, joking, "Will you get hitched to a ditz?"
Increasingly irritable, Hanley clenched his jaw, his sarcasm barely veiled. "How could I possibly fancy a dim-witted girl like that?"
That person perked up. "So, you're going to call off the engagement?"
"Bang!"
The classroom door swung open as Mr. Latham, the homeroom teacher, strode in, slamming the test papers onto the desk and disrupting the chatter. The man in his forties frowned deeply. "Look how wild you've gotten after the holiday! Enough chit-chat. Let's get something straight. Those who rank in the bottom ten on the baseline test are on cleaning duty for a week! Now clean up your desks. Class president, distribute the papers!"
The class instantly rustled into action.
The class president divided the papers into stacks and passed them back from the first row.
The student in front of Cordelia passed her the papers. "Hey!"
Two seconds later, Cordelia looked up as if she hadn't heard the previous discussion, calmly took the papers, and began answering questions.
Unable to focus on the exam, Hanley glanced back in frustration.
It was a math test, and everyone was scribbling calculations on their scratch paper, but Cordelia just stared straight at the questions, writing an answer every ten seconds with a rhythm to it. In less than ten minutes, she was already on the third page.
Half an hour later, she stood up and handed in her test.
Hanley's gaze filled with disdain. Was she scribbling nonsense? Hmph.
The Delaney family sent her to senior year to buy a high-priced diploma, right? In the world of the wealthy, that move was for the no-good, pampered fools.
He despised such useless people the most.
Mr. Latham, proctoring from the podium, also felt a headache coming on.
The Delaney heiress, who supposedly self-studied high school and was a bit off in the head, had been placed in his class, untouchable and unsolvable, a real pain in the neck!
She had handed in her paper after just half an hour, essentially giving up.
He sighed, bored with proctoring anyway, and decided to grade it. Looking down, he found the paper clean and neat, with direct answers written for the multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank questions. He wondered how many Cordelia had guessed correctly.
The first question, choice C, was correct.
The second was B, also correct. Lucky streak?
The third question and the fourth... Mr. Latham's eyes widened in disbelief as he continued.
-
Cordelia strolled downstairs.
Blessed with a photographic memory since childhood, she was obsessed with learning various knowledge and skills. Perhaps having particular strengths meant having weaknesses, too. She was somewhat slow to process emotions and social interactions, but she was not foolish.
She felt the malice from her classmates, so after completing the overly simple test, she decided to leave the classroom early.
Stepping out of the academic building, she was hit by a wave of heat, regretting her haste in handing in the paper.
The school was far from home, and the Delaney family sent a car to ferry her and Juliana to and from school every day. Going back and forth at noon was too time-consuming, so they usually ate in
the school cafeteria.
But it was only half past ten, and the cafeteria wasn't open yet.
Her misty eyes surveyed the outside world, deciding to explore the school surroundings.
Across the street from the school was a row of old, rundown houses. She crossed the road, wandering through the quiet alleys.
Shops of all kinds lined the street near the entrance, stationery stores, clothing shops, and small eateries. Most were closed at this hour except for the breakfast spots.
Feeling thirsty after a short walk, Cordelia scanned around and noticed only one shop was open. She headed straight for it.
Any shop should have water for sale, she thought.
Inside the shop, Everard swept his gaze across the shelves with an icy detachment, his expression dark and stormy, an aura of imminent rage enveloping him.
Beside him, Calvert Wallace flattered, "Boss, it was your call to set up shop here for convenience, and you could keep an eye on things. I know playing shopkeeper is beneath you, but you have to chill out a bit, right?"
Everard shot him a sidelong glance.
Undeterred by the silence, Calvert continued, eager to impress. "Look, I did some scouting. There's a ton of places selling grub and gear around here. After folks fill their bellies and quench their thirst, they want romance, right? That's where we come in!"
Barely suppressing the urge to boot Calvert out of the door, Everard asked, "So, you decided to open a sex toy store?"
Calvert nodded enthusiastically. "Who knows? We might just hit the jackpot and rake in some extra cash!"
Everard replied coldly, "You think high schoolers will buy this kind of stuff?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the door chimed with the sound of a bell, and Cordelia, dressed in her school uniform, barged in.
The room fell silent.