Chapter Forty-Two: Enrollment Procedures

The flawlessly designed Lexus glided smoothly down the school boulevard, turning the heads of passersby who couldn't help but exclaim in admiration. Through the ultra-safe car window, the girl gazed outside. On the road, she saw many upperclassmen, smiling brightly as they helped the sweaty new students drag their suitcases toward the registration area. The air was filled with laughter and joy.

She, of course, had no need for such assistance. Mu Tingye had taken her directly to the principal’s office. After all, he was the school's primary shareholder—so even the principal had to show him respect. There was no need to wait in line; her registration would be handled with ease.

Inside the principal’s office, Principal Zhuo Guang waited anxiously, his eyes darting repeatedly toward the door. Next to him lay the registration book and other enrollment materials, all prepared early that morning. His heart was full of trepidation. Mu always kept his distance from school affairs—why had he come in person today, and even called ahead to request these materials?

Who was he here for? Who was enrolling in the school?

Whoever it was must have extraordinary influence, to be able to summon the cold and indifferent Mu Tingye in person.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor. Zhuo Guang immediately dismissed his tangled thoughts and hurried to the door to greet them.

As the door opened, the person from his memory appeared at the front—still with those exquisite, sculpted features, dressed in an impeccable black suit, his presence even more towering and commanding. His aura was intimidating, awe-inspiring.

But... something about him was different.

What was it?

Ah—his expression. It lacked the usual coldness and detachment; instead, there was a hint of gentleness. It seemed Mu was in a good mood today.

And—besides Assistant Xia, whom Zhuo Guang had seen before, there was someone else.

No, more precisely, Mu Tingye was personally holding someone's hand—a girl with a delicate, radiant face, clear eyes, a pert nose, and lips as pink as cherry blossoms. She was stunning—unimaginably beautiful, in every possible way. Zhuo Guang had never seen anyone so lovely.

What surprised him most was how quietly and obediently the girl followed Mu Tingye. When she blinked those star-like eyes, Zhuo Guang thought he saw, if he was not mistaken, utter trust and reliance.

What was her relationship with Mu Tingye?

While he studied the girl, a cold, impassive gaze pierced him like a sword. He instinctively turned and met Mu Tingye’s icy eyes, shivering from the chill.

Was Mu Tingye angry?

Whenever Zhuo Guang had interacted with him before, he had only ever felt an overwhelming sense of distance, never anger. But now—simply for glancing at the girl—he had provoked his ire.

Clearly, this girl held an extraordinary place in Mu’s heart. He would need to be much more careful from now on.

Zhuo Guang immediately lowered his head, not daring to meet Mu’s eyes. He greeted respectfully, “Mr. Mu.”

Without so much as a pause, Mu Tingye swept past him, a chill wind trailing in his wake.

He didn’t even bother acknowledging him. He really was angry.

Zhuo Guang’s face showed bitterness. Seeing Mu Tingye and the girl settle onto the sofa, he hurried over, pouring tea for them himself, then sat awkwardly to the side, waiting for the man to speak.

The girl sat obediently beside Mu Tingye. Sensing the oppressive atmosphere emanating from him, she turned to look at his strong profile, her expression helpless.

She had just told him in the car to be happy, not to always keep a stern face, and yet now he was inexplicably upset again. Really…

Noticing the two men beside her trembling, she sighed inwardly—it seemed she would have to step in herself.

She laid her delicate, boneless hand on his expensive suit trousers and spoke softly, “Uncle Tingye, you promised to accompany me through the registration process. Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Mu Tingye looked down at the soft, pale hand resting on his leg, her slim fingers adorned with a hint of pink polish—a stark, enchanting contrast against his black suit. Somehow, seeing this, all his anger dissipated.

“Mm.” His voice was low and alluring, as he glanced at the principal, his meaning unmistakable.

The principal, ever perceptive, immediately caught the cue. He stood up, about to fetch the prepared materials from his desk, when a clear, melodious voice interrupted:

“Principal, there’s no need to trouble yourself. I’ll sign everything directly.”

Startled, Zhuo Guang turned to see the girl smiling sweetly at him, her whole being exuding warmth and kindness, putting him at ease.

When their eyes met, she didn’t flinch or act timid. Instead, with poise and a sweet voice, she introduced herself: “Principal, my name is Jiujio Wei. I hope you’ll take care of me in the future.”

Her smile was charming, her voice lively and gentle, making even the principal smile in return and nod, “Of course.”

As the girl assessed the principal, she recalled that in her past life, Mu Tingye had not brought her to register himself, so she had never met the principal. She’d only heard others describe him as old-fashioned and rigid, but seeing him now, he seemed quite endearing.

Receiving his approval, she stepped lightly to the desk. She hesitated—was it appropriate to sit? Sitting uninvited felt rude, but standing would be uncomfortable after a while. It was a dilemma.

Mu Tingye noticed her hesitation and immediately gave the principal a look.

The principal caught on at once and said, “Jiujio, please sit. There’s a lot to fill out.”

Relieved, the girl smiled in thanks, then sat down and began flipping through the materials, leaving the others to their tea and conversation.

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and quickly, elegantly filled out the registration form. But when she reached the family information and guardian’s signature, she hesitated.

Should she ask Uncle Tingye to fill it out for her?

But… to have the hand that signs million-dollar contracts sign her registration form—wasn’t that a bit much?

She dared not even imagine it.

Though Mu Tingye kept up a conversation with the principal, his attention lingered on the girl. Seeing her pause, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Startled from her thoughts, she stammered, “Uncle Tingye, there’s a section for family information and the guardian’s signature.”

Understanding immediately, the man rose, strode over, and took the pen to fill it out for her.

His handwriting was bold and forceful, the strokes sweeping and powerful.

It contrasted with the girl’s neat, upright, and proper characters—one wild and unrestrained, the other orderly and gentle.

Somehow, side by side, there was an inexplicable harmony.

“Thank you, Uncle Tingye!” The girl’s eyes sparkled with sincerity and gratitude.

“Mm,” Mu Tingye replied, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes as he uttered the syllable.