John's sweet words caught Bertha off guard as she clung to his arm.
For a moment, she was stunned.
Which wife is he talking about?
Then realization struck.
He was talking about her.
A strange mix of emotions surged through her chest.
When did I ever praise Dean Smith like that…?
No, more importantly—when did I become your wife?!
With narrowed eyes, Bertha pinched him hard.
John's face didn't show a flicker of pain. Instead, he looked amused, as if he could read her mind. He leaned closer to her ear and chuckled softly.
"Didn't you start this naughty game first?"
He had a point.
When she introduced him earlier, she hadn't called him her brother. She'd simply said he was "a very important person" and wrapped her arm around his as if they were intimately involved.
Wasn't that enough to give others the wrong idea?
Calling her his wife wasn't exactly a stretch.
Besides, John figured she should at least praise him for his quick wit.
Lucien, who had been standing to the side, was seething with jealousy as he watched the two acting so close.
Seizing the moment, he sneered, "Flatterer. Don't you know our Vice Dean despises people like you?"
As expected, Hugo's face darkened. He clenched his teeth and said coldly,
"You're right. As Vice Dean, I've said many times—our focus should be on work, not these meaningless theatrics."
Turning to John, his tone grew stern.
"Young man, we haven't had much interaction, but listen to me: stop wasting your time on these shallow displays. Focus on what matters."
John responded with a smile, his voice calm and agreeable. "You're absolutely right, Dean Smith. Your words are truly enlightening. I'll take them to heart."
Hugo nodded, satisfied. "Good. It's admirable to own up to mistakes. Bertha, your boyfriend has a good character. When your teacher returns, I'm sure she'll be pleased to meet him."
Good character?
Lucien stood there, dumbfounded.
This is what passes for good character now? Just because he knows how to weasel out of trouble?
What about people like me, who don't make any mistakes at all?
The more he thought about it, the more absurd it sounded.
Was this really happening?
Bertha, meanwhile, was blushing—a rare sight for someone so composed.
She had only pretended to be John's girlfriend to make Lucien give up on her. But now, even Hugo seemed to have taken their act seriously and was even complimenting John on his supposed virtues.
What a ridiculous turn of events.
John turned to Bertha, raising an eyebrow. "Seventh Sister, we've been here for a while. Haven't you seen your teacher yet?"
He was genuinely puzzled. Not only had he cured Arno's illness at the Long family's place, but he'd even taken part in that whole ridiculous "play" with them.
Yet Bertha still hadn't met her teacher?
That's when it happened.
"Seventh… sister?" Hugo and Lucien echoed in unison, both frozen in confusion.
Didn't he just call her his wife? Now it's "seventh sister"? What the hell is going on?
Bertha smiled, her eyes twinkling mischievously. She stared at John, clearly curious to see how he would explain his slip-up.
John blinked, realizing his mistake—but only for a second. Then, with a grin, he leaned into the lie.
"Ah… actually, I'm a big fan of my wife. 'Seventh Sister' is just a cute nickname I use for her. You know, like a pet name. She calls me 'Little John,' and I call her 'Seventh Sister.' But… we usually only use those names in bed. It just slipped out."
Silence.
At first, Bertha had looked amused, waiting for him to trip over his own words. But after hearing that last part, the smile froze on her face.
Her cheeks flushed deep red, the color spreading rapidly to her ears and down her slender, graceful neck.
Damn you, John!
How could you say something so shameless?!
Hugo and Lucien interpreted her blushing differently, of course. They assumed she was just embarrassed by John blurting out their "bedroom nicknames."
Hugo gave the two of them a long look, then let out a wry chuckle.
"Young people these days… really know how to keep things spicy. I—I can't even…"
Lucien's expression turned downright grim.
So… the woman he had adored from afar, the goddess of his academic dreams, had already—
Fuck!
Seeing the atmosphere grow increasingly awkward, Hugo cleared his throat and brought the conversation back to the original topic.
"It's a pity. Director Flaherty is out on business today, but she should be back soon."
"I see," John replied with a nod. Since there was time, he decided to explain the situation with Sophia.
Originally, he had wanted Bertha to pass the message along to her teacher and ask for help. But since the Vice Dean himself was standing right there, why not just cut to the chase?
After all, for someone in Hugo's position, approving a student enrollment request should be a walk in the park.
Once John finished explaining, Hugo remained silent for a beat.
Before he could speak, Lucien cut in with a sneer.
"No wonder you were flattering him earlier. So this is what you were after? A favor? How scheming of you."
He thought he was being clever—exposing John's "true intentions."
But in doing so, he completely missed Hugo's expression, which had soured visibly at Lucien's words.
Idiot.
Hugo was a leader, not some petty bureaucrat. Even if he had said he didn't like flatterers, that didn't mean he wanted some clueless lackey to harp on it every five minutes.
It was like a boss telling his team, "No need to flatter me," and then one oblivious employee keeps going around loudly calling out anyone who compliments the boss.
Congratulations. Now you're the annoying one.
Lucien didn't even notice that Hugo had gone stiff with displeasure.
Just like that, John had smoothly made his case.
And Lucien, trying to sabotage him, had only made himself look like a fool.