When Zheng Qing was still a child, he loved splashing through puddles in the rain. His soaked shoes and the spray of water always made him feel that life ought to be this lively.
As he grew older, that childish delight gradually faded away.
He was not sure exactly when it had disappeared—perhaps after getting his shoes wet too many times and being lectured by his parents too often; perhaps when he learned in science class that rain contained bacteria that could make people sick; or perhaps when he read in a geography book that acid rain could corrode buildings.
Human skin could not be tougher than buildings, could it? Not splashing through puddles in the rain was the correct choice.
But correct choices never made people quite so happy.
Just like now.
There were some things he would rather never have known.
As he sat in Qingqiu Mansion's study, watching the drizzle outside through the window, he suddenly felt the urge to rush out and splash through puddles again.
He refused to admit that this impulse came from the instant distaste he had felt for the supposedly sensible understanding of adulthood after hearing Su Shijun's earlier words. Instead, he unconsciously wanted to pin the blame on Poseidon or Su Ya.
In the entire mansion, perhaps only those two could understand how joyful it was to frolic in a light rain.
Of course, that terrible thought flashed through his mind only briefly.
He did not want the Great Fox to punish him for indulging the Little Fox.
The young publicly funded student withdrew his gaze from the window, looked back down at the parchment before him, sighed heavily, and continued asking humbly, "...So what does a teacher being wealthy have to do with credit exemptions?"
"A wealthy teacher will not