After saying those words in a lowered voice, Bai Bufan's expression looked almost orgasmic for a moment.
It felt great.
So this was how great Old Jian felt every day?
Being a teacher was this great? Bai Bufan had decided—he wanted to become a tea—forget it.
Feeling great only lasted a moment. Teaching Lin Li was suffering for a lifetime.
Bai Bufan suddenly felt a little nauseated. It did not feel quite so great anymore.
But whether Bai Bufan was enjoying himself was not important. Hearing that unfamiliar voice, the three of them finally realized something was wrong.
When they looked up, they saw two masked teachers staring sternly at them.
Their hearts lurched. All three instantly stood up and instinctively hid their phones behind their backs. One of them failed to hold onto his phone, and it fell to the floor.
Lin Li held out his hand expressionlessly, his voice calm. "Hand over the phones."
"Teacher..." one of them began timidly.
"Hand over the phones." Lin Li cut him off and repeated himself with slightly more force.
The boy immediately fell silent, not daring to say another word. Desperately, he placed his phone in Lin Li's hand.
The other two quickly followed suit.
"You three are all students from Class 9?" Lin Li asked, holding the phones behind his back with both hands, frowning.
"...Yes."
"Who's your homeroom teacher?"
"..."
"Hm? Who's your homeroom teacher?"
"It's... it's Miao Ruifeng."
The three of them had completely lowered their heads. None dared meet Lin Li's eyes, and their voices were barely audible.
"Teacher Miao, huh." Though he did not know this teacher at all, Lin Li addressed him familiarly, then let out a cold laugh.
Once he saw that the three no longer dared raise their heads, Bai Bufan could not