“Ah! I forgot to do my laundry!”
Adele frantically yanked open her wardrobe, looking on the verge of tears. “I forgot to wash my clothes a few days ago, and now I don't have anything clean to wear! Lois—”
“Don't look at me. Blame your own laziness.” Lois curled her lip. “All my clothes are tailored. Whenever you wear them, they stretch out of shape, especially the bust where you forcefully push the seams out... Go ask Sonia.”
Ingrid, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, was toweling her hair dry as she chimed in, “I do have a few loose outfits, but I'm taller than you. The sleeves probably won't fit right.”
Adele turned pitiful, pleading eyes toward Sonia. “Sonia...”
In the dorm, only Sonia had a build similar to hers. Seeing no way out, Sonia was about to invent an excuse to brush her off—she disliked lending her clothes to others as well.
“No. I don't like wearing other people's clothes, and I don't want other people wearing mine.”
Lois and Ingrid cast strange looks at Sonia.
Adele blinked and had no choice but to borrow Ingrid's clothes instead. Since Ingrid was a full head taller than her, the swordswoman's top draped over Adele almost like a tunic dress.
Today they all had a large shared lecture in the morning, so the four of them left together to eat at the dining hall.
Halfway there, a male voice called out, “Sonia!”
Turning around, they saw a rather handsome blond young man approaching. Lois's face instantly darkened.
The male student was Merovei. He had pursued Lois in the past, and seeing that he was good-looking and came from a noble background, she had deigned to grant him a chance to court her. To her humiliation, Sonia had stolen his attention away with just a few coy glances, causing Lois to lose face terribly in front of her friends.
“Good morning, Merovei.”
“Good morning, Sonia,” Merovei said warmly. “Ever since you transferred to the Swordsmanship Department, I've barely run into you. Since we've crossed paths today, how about having dinner together tonight? Seafood is in season right now. Would you prefer the Gold Coast or Eel's Delight?”
Lois sneered internally. Sonia didn't even care for Felix nowadays, so she certainly wouldn't give Merovei the time of day. For Merovei to be so proactive all of a sudden, he was almost certainly acting on his family's instructions. After all, Sonia was Professor Trozan's apprentice and had defeated Leonie; her future practically guaranteed her a place as a Sanctuary Sword Saint.
For small and mid-tier noble families, the allegiance of a three-winged sorcerer carried monumental weight. If Merovei's initial interest had been driven merely by lust, now it was unmistakably driven by profit.
Lois knew Sonia would turn him down, but *how* she would refuse was hard to predict. Given their strained relationship, Sonia might even take the opportunity to slip in a few snide remarks at Lois's expense...
“No. I need to train. I don't have time.”
“You're so diligent. But taking time to unwind only helps your cultivation. If you're not in the mood for seafood, we could—”
“I don't consider having dinner with you to be unwinding.”
Merovei's expression froze. Mumbling an apology for the disturbance, he hurried away.
Sonia walked a few steps before realizing the other three weren't keeping up. Instead, they were lingering behind, trading meaningful glances. Puzzled, she asked, “What's wrong?”
“Nothing,” Lois said, quickly smoothing over her bizarre expression.
The four of them reached the lecture hall, where passing classmates went out of their way to greet them. Even setting aside Sonia's recent feats, she and Lois had always been a striking sight on campus, and being surrounded wherever they went was completely routine.
Lois warmly returned the greetings, while Sonia merely gave a calm nod, not uttering a single word. Watching this, the odd feeling brewing among the other three grew stronger.
No sooner had they taken their seats than Adele turned deathly pale. “I'm doomed! I forgot to write the essay! It's due this period!”
Ingrid couldn't help gloating a little. “Then you're done for.”
This class was *Modern Starry History*. The instructor, Professor Wesley, was in his sixties and notorious for being rigid and strict. Pop quizzes and surprise roll calls were part of his standard routine; if you failed to submit your paper, you could prepare to retake the course next year.
Sure enough, the very moment the white-haired, straight-backed old professor stepped into the classroom, he barked the order that struck dread into every student: “Place your essays on the lectern for on-the-spot inspection.”
With a flick of his finger, a one-winged scholar sorcery spirit drifted over to the lectern. Despite being merely a one-winged sorcery spirit, it was the nightmare of countless students—the Search spirit!
Once a sorcerer configured the detailed criteria, the spirit could swiftly assess whether an essay met all specifications. A sorcerer could even cast a miracle to connect it to the literature database in the academy's Curtain, scanning for similarity on the spot to determine whether a student had plagiarized published works!
One by one, the students went up to submit their papers. The inspecting spirit tapped each manuscript lightly: green meant a pass, yellow indicated excessive similarity, and red signaled grave suspicion of plagiarism.
The old professor said nothing, merely sitting there watching everyone hand in their work. Only when a student came forward empty-handed would he let out a cold snort and jot down their details.
When it was Adele's turn, she walked up with empty hands, her big, bright eyes brimming with sincerity. “Professor Wesley, I accidentally fell asleep while writing my paper last night, so I haven't finished it yet. May I submit it next week?”
Wesley gave her a sharp look. “If the paper you turn in next week has a similarity rate above ten percent, your participation grade will be an automatic fail.”
“Understood!” Adele skipped right back to her seat, not feeling the pressure at all.
Then it was Sonia's turn. Seeing her approach empty-handed as well, Wesley's expression softened considerably. “You didn't write it?”
“No, I didn't.”
“Why not? Is your training workload too heavy? I heard Trozan often pulls you aside for extra lessons. While training in a sorcery faction is crucial, one must not neglect cultural cultivation.”
The other students looked on, green with envy. Comparison was truly the thief of joy. They were all students who hadn't written their essays, yet anyone else would surely lose their participation marks, while Sonia had Professor Trozan backing her up—Wesley had even invented an excuse on her behalf!
As long as Sonia played along with the out he gave her and offered a few pleasantries, the old professor might very well waive the assignment entirely—
“I couldn't be bothered to write it.”
The lecture hall fell dead silent.
After a beat, Wesley wore an expression of sheer disbelief, as though suspecting his own ears. “What did you just say?”
Sonia thought everyone was acting very strange and instinctively opened her mouth to repeat herself.
Then she suddenly caught herself—*Wait, shouldn't I be using Professor Trozan's name to flatter Wesley so he'll excuse me from the essay?!*
“I...” Sonia parted her lips. “I couldn't be bothered to write such a pointless, time-wasting assignment.”
Looking at Wesley's furious face, which seemed ready to erupt with molten lava, and the awestruck expressions of her classmates, who desperately wanted to laugh but didn't dare, Sonia finally understood what the summoning ritual for Sincerity actually was!
*Watcher, crossing paths with you is truly the misfortune of my life!*
Chapter 85