NovelXXXChapter 275 Without a second thought, Raymond said, "If they really want to work with us, they'll reschedule for tomorrow morning. If not, forget it." His words hung in the air as he shot a warning look at Adler. "Listen up, Adler. No matter how urgent the work is, nothing takes priority over my daughter. In my book, everything comes after Citrine." "Yes, sir. I understand," Adler replied at once, hurrying off to carry out Raymond's orders.
A few minutes later, with the invitation finally in hand, Raymond rushed over in a fluster.
Inside, Citrine was seated beside Weston, chatting with him as they watched the show. When the two of them spotted Raymond, both their eyes went wide in surprise.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"What are you doing here?" Weston and Citrine blurted out at the stime.
Raymond ignored his father. He looked at his daughter, his tone softening. "Of course I'd be here for Citrine's big moment." Then, with a scowl, he turned to Weston and spoke as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Dad, you should move over." Weston looked utterly scandalized. "Raymond, have you lost your mind? You're telling your own father to give up his seat?" "What's next? When I die, do I have to give you my spot in the family plot too?" Weston was so worked up he could hardly believe his ears, launching into a tirade at Raymond.
"That won't be necessary," Raymond replied matter-of-factly, as if his logic was flawless. "I'm Citrine's father. The parent's seat is rightfully mine." Weston snorted and glared at him, his mustache bristling. "I'm Citrine's grandfather. Seniority counts for something. This seat suitsjust fine, thank you very much." Citrine couldn't help but laugh at the two of them bickering like schoolboys over a chair.
She'd only requested one ticket for a parent's seat, thinking that would be enough -never expecting her dad to show up too.
Now she had a headache. While the two "children" argued, Citrine slipped away and found her teacher, asking for another slip of paper. She taped it to the backup chair next to Weston's.
When she finished, she turned to her squabbling relatives. "Stop fighting. There's another seat right here with your non it. Now sit down." Raymond straightened his jacket and finally took his seat, ready to watch the show.
On stage, the poetry recitation group was still performing.
One by one, the students took their turn, but none could measure up to Jeanette. Sparents in the audience were growing tired and starting to nod off.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmMeanwhile, a group of students from the neighboring language high school whispered among themselves in the back row.
"Aren't Primus Academy's students supposed to be top-notch? These speeches are brutal-one's worse than the last. Don't they have anyone left who can actually speak?" "Seriously. Even our freshmen could do better than this."
"And it's just one basic speech after another. You'd think they'd mix it up with something in another language-anything! This is so boring, I'm starting to regret coming here." "Those clunky phrases in their scripts? We stopped using those back in ninth grade."
"I cto check out the so-called geniuses at Primus Academy and maybe pick up a thing or two, but all I see are bookworms. Judging by these speeches, they must've worked their tails off for weeks, but honestly? Even our own freshmen's class presentations are better." "Only that first girl-what was her name, Jeanette?-was watchable. The rest are just awful." Jeanette, overhearing the foreign language school students' comments, could barely contain her pride.
And when she realized Citrine would be up next, a flicker of anticipation flashed in her eyes.
Meanwhile, over in Class Eight- "I can't find my speech. Has anyone seen it?"
Not long ago, Citrine had lost her script. Now she was forced to gon around, asking everyone one by one.
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