The old man couldn't catch up with Zandar and could only watch helplessly as he ran farther and farther away.
Leaning on his cane, he moved forward as quickly as he could.
The man ahead no longer carried his usual composed bearing. His neatly kept hair had been blown into complete disarray by the wind.
A scholar was still a scholar. After running less than a hundred meters, he was already out of breath.
Zandar breathed heavily. When he saw what was happening, the anger in his chest instantly turned into fear.
The horse had long since lost control and was now galloping across the grass with Eric on its back.
Zandar watched with his heart in his throat, terrified that Eric would fall off.
His voice trembled.
"Eric, don't be afraid..."
"I'm here..."
Dozens of meters behind them, the teacher was still moving forward at a slow pace.
Because he was too far away, the old man couldn't see clearly. He could only hear Zandar's instructions.
"Eric, take your feet out of the stirrups..."
"Lie down..."
Soon, Eric got the reins under control and slowed the horse down.
In the end, the boy stopped by the lakeside. Sitting on the horse, he lowered his head to look at the lake less than a meter away and let out a long breath of relief.
When he looked up again, Zandar was walking toward him with a cold expression and an imposing manner.
Eric's hand twitched, and he accidentally tugged the reins, giving the horse the wrong command.
The horse hesitated for a moment. It lifted its legs and paced along the lakeshore. After pausing briefly, it ultimately chose to obey its rider's command and charged straight into the lake.
At that moment, even the teacher, whose eyesight was poor and who was more than ten meters away, saw the huge splash erupt from the lake.
The old man stood there dumbfounded.
With his hair still in complete disarray, Zandar returned to the teacher and snatched the cane from his hand.
"Sorry, Teacher..."
Teacher: "..."
'This is the second time!'
'What is wrong with you father and son?!'
By the time the old man reached the shore, Zandar had already pulled Eric out of the lake.
The boy was soaked from head to toe and collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion.
Zandar knelt on one knee, took off his coat, and draped it over the boy's shoulders.
Five meters away, the horse that had caused all this was leisurely strolling along the lakeshore.
As for the cane...
The student had casually thrown it onto the ground.
The teacher bent down with difficulty, picked up the cane, and walked over to the two of them.
Zandar frowned, his lips pressed tightly together.
Eric pulled his collar together and smiled at him, as if trying to calm him down.
That expression had no soothing effect whatsoever.
Instead, it only made Zandar's anger burn even hotter.
His fists clenched tightly, his whole body tense, as though he would explode and hurt someone the next moment.
Zandar thought, 'I really want to punch that face.'
Just before his emotions overcame his reason and he was about to vent them on his student, he heard the teacher's footsteps behind him.
The next thing he felt was a sharp pain across his back.
Zandar sucked in a breath.
With his student present, he still maintained his one-knee kneeling posture.
The teacher looked down at him from above.
Slowly withdrawing the cane, he asked coldly, "What are you trying to do?"
"Were you going to hit him?"
"Are you going to take your resentment and dissatisfaction with me out on the child?"
"Now, carry him back."
After returning to the main building, the old man dismissed Zandar and personally examined the boy.
People with bleeding disorders had relatively weak self-healing abilities.
Even now, there was still no cure. All they could do was avoid physical injuries as much as possible.
The teacher rolled up the boy's pant leg and found only large patches of dark bruising.
After examining him carefully and confirming that he had no external injuries, they both let out sighs of relief.
They first searched the refrigerator for ice packs. Then they realized the bleeding beneath the skin was too extensive. Even with both Zandar and the teacher helping, they couldn't apply ice to every affected area at the same time.
Left with no other choice, they found fever patches and stuck them onto the boy's body instead.
The teacher made up an excuse and led Zandar into another room.
Meeting his student's slightly puzzled gaze, the teacher said nothing. He simply raised a hand, pointed at the first aid kit, and signaled for Zandar to treat the wound on his back.
Zandar's expression shifted slightly. Just as he was about to say something, the teacher turned around and slammed the door behind him.
He took off his shirt, turned his back toward the mirror, tilted his head, and cleaned the wound.
By the time he had dressed again, Eric, in the room next door, had already changed into a brand-new set of pajamas the teacher had found for him and gone downstairs to the kitchen.
The room Zandar was in had an open window, so he could clearly hear the conversation downstairs.
The boy walked over to the teacher and asked if there was anything he could help with.
The teacher didn't stand on ceremony and immediately put him to work.
The two chatted casually like a close grandfather and grandson. Under the teacher's guidance, the conversation drifted from favorite foods to Eric's hairstyle.
"Your hair's a bit long."
Eric replied, "I want to try a different style, maybe a shorter wolf cut..."
The teacher asked, "Hm? Why not try Zandar's hairstyle?"
"A three-seven part. It's very neat, isn't it?"
Eric chose his words very carefully.
"His hairstyle looks... too unique."
The teacher asked again, "Do you like long hair?"
"I wouldn't say I like it. I even wore a braid before."
After saying that, Eric began explaining the longevity braid from his hometown.
Soon, the teacher threw out an advanced mathematics problem.
Eric hesitated before replying, "...Uh, well, Great-Grandmaster, I'm fifteen this year. Unless something unexpected happens, I should be in the first year of high school, studying sets, inequalities, and things like that."
Standing by the window, Zandar couldn't help sighing inwardly.
His student's home planet was simply too backward.
Its level of technology lagged so far behind that it couldn't support large numbers of humans traveling through space.
As a result, his understanding remained rooted in the past.
Take the stellar computer, for example.
In Eric's eyes, there wasn't much difference between a stellar computer and artificial intelligence.
The former was just much bigger.
On top of that, Eric had met Zandar first. Because of imprinting, he was always praising him.
The student couldn't foresee the future.
Of course, even if he knew how difficult the road ahead would be, he would still support Zandar's choice without hesitation.
Downstairs, the teacher began asking Eric about his future plans.
"Have you decided what major you want to study?"
Eric replied, "Business."
The teacher continued, "Hm? Why business?"
Without thinking, Eric answered, "Research needs money."
Zandar froze where he stood.
His student's tone... Made it sound so natural.
As though choosing business for Zandar's sake was only to be expected.
As dinner approached, Zandar got up and went downstairs.
Perhaps because he didn't want to make things difficult for Eric, the teacher was unusually kind to Zandar at the dinner table.
The three of them ate from the appetizers all the way to dessert. Then the teacher suddenly paused, put down his fork, touched Eric's forehead with the back of his hand, and said with a grave expression, "He's got a fever."
The teacher found some fever medicine.
Before bedtime, Eric's forehead was still burning hot.
After thinking it over again and again, the teacher took out an injection and said to Zandar, "You stay with him tonight."
"If the fever doesn't go down, give him the shot."
Looking worried, Zandar nodded.
The two returned to the guest room. After washing up, each lay down on their own bed.
Zandar spoke softly, "...I'm sorry."
Eric hugged his pillow.
Pretending not to understand, he tried to skip over the topic.
"Hm? You don't need to apologize to me."
Zandar continued, "I was very angry."
"I really wanted to beat you up."
The corner of Eric's mouth twitched.
"...Zandar, you're too straightforward."
"Don't worry. It won't happen again."
He made the promise in a serious tone, then turned over and buried his face in the pillow.
"I want to live."
"I want to live more than anyone."