"Speaking of which, we really ought to thank President Xu." The dean lowered his head and immediately saw the little boy's demonically handsome face and that eye‑searing outfit and little backpack.
He instantly guessed who this was—his reputation was so big it was hard not to know.
"So it's Xu Zhiqing. Xu Huaxin, come register with Uncle."
"Thank you, teacher." Little Xu Zhiqing truly deserved the title of "the nation's good son"; his sweet mouth had the stern dean so coaxed he was practically dizzy.
Registration went very smoothly. After all, they were the young master and young miss of President Xu's family. Even if they didn't need the back door, no one would dare cut in front of them. Besides, is Meng Ping the kind of person who cuts in line?
With that face of his sitting there, no one would dare make him line up.
