This atmosphere reminded the forward of the feeling gang members had when mentioning the Godfather in gangster films.

It seemed the name "Cao Xuan" was too heavy for everyone to even dare to discuss.

"Xiaopang, who is more impressive, him or that Mrs. Sakai from before?"

The chubby guy curled his lips and looked at him with a gaze as if appraising an art novice, "You know nothing. You can Google it yourself back home."

"Does this guy even have a Wikipedia page? Can’t be bothered to check, just tell me directly."

"Professor Cruz’s husband is a top-tier artist in Asia, but compared to Mr. Cao Xuan, he is still a whole class lower. You know Picasso, right? Heard of Andy Warhol? Cao Xuan’s status isn’t much lower than theirs."

"I’ve heard of Picasso. Their works together must be worth over a billion dollars. To be associated with such big artists, that’s amazing."

The student holding the soccer ball was stunned.

"Playing soccer with Messi, participating in a concert with Taylor Swift is as awesome as co-signing artwork with Mr. Cao Xuan."

The chubby guy crossed his arms.

He looked proud and full of admiration and aspiration for the senior in his school, "By the way, I’ll let you know, Picasso and Andy Warhol’s life works, there’s no precise statistic on how much they’re worth. But a billion dollars? Hah, double it and add a zero, at the very least."

This was a sufficient and stimulating number that made one’s pupils dilate just by hearing it.

Double one billion dollars and add a zero becomes 20 billion dollars.

Yangon is the most economically developed area in Myanmar, with a population of 7.3 million, whose total annual GDP in the 2010s was around 4 trillion Myanmar Kyat, which roughly equaled this figure.

If the term ’richer than a country’ is a bit exaggerated,

then the wealth of the most high-end individuals in the art industry, comparable to a city with a million people, is no exaggeration.

The forward struggled to connect the magnitude of four trillion Myanmar Kyat to the indifferent name on the bulletin board.

Then he glanced at the slender face of the senior nearby.

"Holy shit."

He stood there dumbfounded, the ball slipping from his hands.

No one laughed.

This "holy shit" encapsulated the feelings of all the students who saw the content on the bulletin board.

Many of these onlookers were Gu Weijing’s classmates.

When they saw the bulletin board or the photos circulating in the student groups, the only word echoing in their minds was "holy shit."

Holy shit?

Holy shit!

Holy fucking shit!!!

Mrs. Cruz and Koizumi Katsuko were seen daily at school, but the mother and daughter seemed like a magnificent cloud in the sky.

Beautiful, but not real.

To put it bluntly,

they have nothing to do with you.

Everyone was either about to become an adult or already there. The atmosphere at a private aristocratic school was already a bit competitive and everyone knew what social class each student came from.

No one foolishly believes the empty talk of being classmates from the same school, united, loving, supportive, and equal.

The class divide carved an exact mark in everyone’s heart.

Professor Cruz just stays above your head for a short while, and at the end of the term, they’re gone in a blink.

The next time you might encounter them on the artistic path, there is 99% possibility, Mrs. Cruz and Miss Koizumi will be standing in the dazzling spotlight of an art museum stage, and you’re just an anonymous spectator below, in front of the news TV.

You will definitely remember their names, while they certainly won’t remember yours.

At most, they would point at the TV broadcast with family and friends bragging, "Beautiful, right? I was her classmate for half a year back then."

Except for the few chosen for the advanced class who might get a recommendation letter from Mrs. Sakai.

That would be all the connection most people have with this mother-daughter duo.

Different classes, how can an art princess befriend a rural bumpkin like you?

Until they saw in the bulletin board the fairytale co-signed by Gu Weijing, someone who was among the inconspicuous students, and Mr. Cao Xuan from the textbooks.

How to describe it?

The Seven Fairy Maidens descending to marry the cowherd Dong Yong, and the Old Immortal Zhang Guolao sitting on a small donkey in a village mill.

The headline is a myth.

They realized that,

starting today and for many years to come,

this senior Gu Weijing is likely to become a new legend in the academy, passed down by generations of Fitz students.

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