Emily Blair let out a sudden laugh.

It had never occurred to her that the sharp, quick-witted Elizabeth Wilson could have been so different back in high school.

She found it oddly amusing.

The next class was, once again, with the same teacher from before. Emily still had no intention of lifting her head.

But the classroom buzzed with whispers all around her.

"Why did we get a new teacher?"

"Ma'am, you're in the wrong class."

"Isn't she supposed to be teaching the honors class?"

Only then did Emily look up and realize that the teacher at the front was, in fact, her old chemistry teacher.

Her brows furrowed instantly.

This teacher was excellent-she'd coached several students to top scores on the national exams. The school always assigned her to the best-performing classes; there was no way she would ever end up in a class the school had already given up

on.

The teacher's expression was stern as she rapped the desk with her textbook, her tone uncompromising.

"Quiet down. This is the school's decision. From now on, I'll be your chemistry teacher. And yes, I'll still be teaching the honors class as well. In my classroom, there is no fooling around, no sleeping, and you don't speak louder than I do. You will follow every rule to the letter."

"You can choose to listen, or not. But if you don't, you'd better show results. If you can't, well-don't blame me for what comes next."

"I will call your parents."

"I expect you to remember everything I've just said. Don't let me catch you slipping." When she finished, the room fell into dead silence.

No one had expected that, right before muddling through to graduation, they'd get stuck with such a strict teacher. To them, this wasn't a blessing—it was more like divine punishment.

A few students turned to glare at Emily, resentment clear in their eyes.

Emily's face darkened.

This was probably Andrew Lane's doing.

There was no way the school would be foolish enough to assign one of their best teachers to a class with such poor grades.

Rather than the school's decision, this was, without a doubt, Andrew Lane's.

As soon as she was transferred, the teacher followed.

It wasn't hard for anyone to put two and two together.

And, just as she expected, the teacher was an excellent instructor-even during this

last round of review, Emily found herself drawn in and paying attention.

By the end of the day, the students in the class were completely numb.

All their teachers had been replaced by the ones from the honors class-strict, demanding, and relentless. The group of kids who used to joke and slack off now felt suffocated by the new regime.

Emily pressed her lips together and quietly packed her things.

She hadn't noticed when Elizabeth Wilson walked over, but her tone was even nastier than it had been that morning.

“Emily Blair, was it you who brought these teachers here?"

Emily's gaze was clear and unwavering. "No. I didn't do anything like that."

Elizabeth gave a cold, mocking laugh. "You say you didn't, so we're just supposed

to believe you? We never planned to take the finals seriously, but now you show up and get special treatment, forcing all of this on us. Let me tell you, you won't have an easy time here."

With that threat, Elizabeth stalked off with her entourage, her whole posture radiating fury.

A wave of irritation washed over Emily.

There were still three months left until finals, but she had already managed to recall nearly all of last year's exam questions and written them down in her notebook.

Honestly, she felt ready to take the exams right now.

So why was Andrew Lane doing all this?

Was he trying to make up for something? Did he regret what happened?

She didn't care for any of it. All she felt was how powerful Andrew Lane's influence

was, how impossible it was to escape his reach. It left her feeling trapped— uncomfortable, and anything but grateful.