Return of the Antagonistic Lady Boss

Chapter 430 - 404: Addicted to Acting Young (400+ Monthly Votes Special)

The first paper Qian wrote was about mania-related research. The arguments were extremely innovative; Liu Linlin could tell at a glance that the content definitely wasn’t copied from existing literature.

Qian saw the expression on her face and knew she was intrigued. She stood up pretending to leave, only to be pulled back by the shoulder straps of her backpack by Liu Linlin.

"Sit down, wait until I finish reading."

Of course, it would turn out this way; Qian would never fight a battle she wasn’t confident of winning.

She had already predicted that this little old lady would be captivated by her work. In fact, the relevant points she wrote in the paper were ahead of their time by even ten years, let alone now. It was akin to giving someone used to bulky desktops a taste of an LCD screen; of course, they’d be captivated. It just so happened to align with the current peak in mania cases, making it too suitable for her teacher, who would definitely take on many such cases, to review.

Liu Linlin read very carefully, her excitement growing as she turned each page. She even took out her glasses to get a better look. Alongside her reading, she cheerfully waved at Qian.

Qian had been her Closed-door Disciple in her past life and was thoroughly familiar with her mentor’s habits. As soon as the professor waved her hand, Qian immediately stood up and headed to the kitchen with a French press.

The teacher’s kitchen was just like in her previous life. Qian recognized the same patterned tableware. Her mentor was a nostalgic person who couldn’t bear to replace things once she started using them, keeping them for over a decade. Standing there, it felt like she had traveled back in time to her past life.

She opened the top cupboard and sure enough, there she found freshly ground coffee.

The habit of placing things was exactly the same as in her previous life.

Being such a particularly rule-abiding, nostalgic woman, she had lost her eldest son. The pain of a white-haired person sending off a black-haired one was something nobody could understand.

Qian skillfully brewed the coffee. She might not be good at cooking, but when it came to making coffee or tea, she excelled. In her past life, she spent years brewing coffee for her teacher. Even later, when she became a boss, whenever she returned to this old apartment building, she’d obediently brew coffee for her mentor. Once a teacher, always like a mother—it’s undeniable.

When Qian handed the brewed coffee to Mr. Liu, who was engrossed in her paper, she took just one sip and frowned.

She looked at Qian, puzzled, "How did you know I’d want two pieces of sugar?"

While she liked coffee, she had an extreme sweet tooth, needing two packets of sugar for a small cup. Not many people knew about this sweet preference.

Qian brewed it just right.

"I heard that those with a bitter heart like to eat sweets as compensation. Teacher, you look like your face could drip bitterness, so I wanted to sweeten your heart."

Mr. Liu chuckled, amused, but not angry.

She waved the manuscript in her hand, "Did you write all of this?"

"Yes."

Mr. Liu was somewhat surprised. She adjusted her glasses—a gesture very much like Qian’s, or rather, one Qian had adopted from her during moments of emotional fluctuation.

Mr. Liu was genuinely amazed. What Qian wrote had already surpassed the level of a university student—no, it had even surpassed the domestic academic authorities. It was exceptionally well-written, flawless in all aspects, with novel and bold ideas that even left her in awe.

Is this really a first-year student?

Of course not. This was a PhD-level scholar in disguise, with multiple international academic accolades under her belt. How could her paper not be outstanding?

"Come, come over and talk to me. How did you come up with this?"

Mr. Liu had guided countless students in her lifetime. Ninety percent of them believed she was like a ghostly old lady—particularly irritable, aloof, and almost rigid.

Very few caught her eye, and Qian was one of her favorites. Not because Qian brewed coffee she liked—actually, Qian once burned her kitchen. She was at her teacher’s house writing a paper, got hungry, and since her teacher was busy, she tried to make instant noodles. Somehow, the kettle caught fire. To this day, Qian feels she was wronged, unable to figure out how the kettle short-circuited.

Yet, even nearly burning down her teacher’s house didn’t compromise her standing as Mr. Liu’s number one disciple. It wasn’t due to her charming the teacher but because Qian was indeed the most insightful. Mr. Liu had only one principle in judging people—whoever was solid in their major and had good character, she liked them.

Discussing professional-related topics with Qian became endless, like spotting an oasis after wandering in a desert. Qian’s ideas were so similar to hers. Some things she couldn’t communicate with peers fell right into place with Qian—they were incredibly like-minded!

Initially, they just wanted to chat for a while but couldn’t stop.

Both were free in the morning, so they lost themselves in conversation. This little old lady, once her conversational box was unlatched, wasn’t at all high-cold. Mr. Liu also felt repressed. Despite her high standing in the academic world, her personality had offended many. She was purely academic and disregarded all politics, looking down on almost everyone at school, bearing the unique pride of a high-level intellectual and offending those at all levels.

Summed up in three words: poor social skills.

Qian managed initially, but as her teacher lost herself more and more, she thought, "Isn’t this the university student’s test?" Don’t think she didn’t get it: what they were discussing now was her teacher’s current research project. This was a bit much, throwing an academy-level topic at a university student—a fresh, pink-faced newcomer. Even a façade of immaturity was still young!

Qian felt she couldn’t continue letting her teacher’s free-spirited nature run unchecked.

If she let this old lady maintain her highly excited state, she could talk until dusk. She knew her teacher too well.

So, no matter what Mr. Liu said next, Qian stayed silent, adding a "I-don’t-know" expression. Within minutes, Mr. Liu noticed; it wasn’t fun having a monologue.

"Why am I telling you this... Things I’m working on, how could you understand—wait, you just spent half a day discussing this with me!"

Qian displayed an innocent baby-like confused look, "Teacher, I feel like your state just now was close to mania... highly excited."

"You little girl, you have no sense of decorum; those students I’ve taught would never dare speak to me like this." Liu Linlin teased.

"Those students of yours ended up working for me. What would they dare...?"

"What did you say?" Mr. Liu didn’t catch it.

Qian adjusted her glasses, donning an expression of absolute innocence.

"I said nothing." The teacher had produced many excellent talents; apart from those who pursued academic careers, most were later recruited by Qian.

It was common knowledge in the industry that following Qian meant a good meal. Qian’s feelings for her teacher were indeed conflicted.