"A million dollars, huh? If one person has to cover that, we're doomed." Someone murmured under their breath.
Grayson frowned involuntarily.
Professor Camille Hart—he knew her. She was in her early thirties, reasonably attractive but not a supermodel type. She always spoke in a soft, gentle voice and came across as warm-hearted and kind. In fact, he and Professor Hart had interacted a few times before. When Grayson entered the university, he was officially registered as a low-income student, so he qualified for financial aid at first. As a freshman, he didn't really understand the process and signed up for the aid without much thought. But by his sophomore year, he voluntarily gave it up. He wasn't truly destitute—he was only playing the part of a "poor student" at his family's insistence to build character through hardship. In truth, he still needed money, but out of conscience, he felt he couldn't accept aid that might otherwise go to someone genuinely in need.
One day, Professor Hart took the initiative to find Grayson. To be honest, he had been surprised—after all, she was a faculty member, and he was just a student who often felt judged as being broke and worthless. It turned out she wanted to ask why he had stopped applying for financial aid, since he had been on it all his freshman year. Her concern genuinely moved him; he thought she was a wonderful teacher. He replied vaguely, offering some excuse to deflect her questions, and didn't elaborate further. After that, whenever they crossed paths on campus, Professor Hart would often stop to ask how his studies and life were going.
Now to hear Professor Hart was in trouble—she had lost a million dollars—it was unthinkable. She was just a regular professor, earning maybe five or six thousand dollars a month. Losing a sum like that must feel like the sky falling in. He had to help, but he didn't want to be too obvious about it. A million might not be much to someone like him, but if he simply handed it over to her, would she even accept it? Even if she did, she would probably feel indebted to him forever. Her kindness made him not want her to feel that way.
"Um, Dr. Morgan, I—if we can't find the money, why not organize a donation drive to help Professor Hart pull it together?" Grayson raised his hand tentatively.
It had to be said: Grayson really was experienced in making anonymous donations. If they held a fundraiser, he could slip in a million himself without anyone knowing. Problem solved.
"A fundraiser?" Dr. Morgan sneered, eyeing Grayson like he was an idiot. "You're really something. A million dollars—how many fundraisers would you have to hold to collect that? How much do you have, a dollar? Two?"
Dr. Morgan always looked down on Grayson. He only treated pretty girls or wealthy students with any respect. Most of the project team burst into laughter. Except for those few who were on good terms with Grayson, including Tanner's group and Sienna, nobody could bring themselves to laugh—if this had happened before, they might have been the loudest to mock. But now, none of them could gather a smile. Especially Sienna: she bowed her head, barely listening to what Dr. Morgan was saying.
What on earth is Grayson up to? Sienna's mind raced, trying to make sense of it. Did he really donate half a million again? Was that loser secretly a trust-fund baby? If he'd wanted to give five hundred thousand, how much did he have to win—five million? If he really had won five million, she'd be the one suffering! After all, if they hadn't broken up, that money would have been hers to spend. Even if Sebastian came from wealth, he couldn't have five million just lying around!
"All right, that's the meeting adjourned. If anyone has news about Professor Hart's missing one million, let me know right away!" Dr. Morgan waved his hand and dismissed them.
Grayson walked out of the classroom, his thoughts racing. How could he help Professor Hart quietly, without making it obvious? He could call Nathaniel any time and have him bring a million in cash, no problem. The trick was getting it to her without her knowing it was from him.
He had an idea. Grayson headed to the second floor of a certain administrative building on campus, where the Financial Aid Office was located. Professor Hart's office door wasn't locked—likely she didn't have the energy to worry about that after such a big ordeal. Grayson slipped inside, closed the door behind him, and went straight to her desk. He could just place a pile of cash on her desk. Then, when Professor Hart returned to her office after being discharged from the hospital and saw a million dollars waiting there, she'd surely assume someone had found it and turned it in.
He needed a note too. He pulled out a piece of scrap paper and wrote: "Hello, Professor Hart—Your money was found by me. At first, I didn't know who it belonged to, so I didn't bring it to you. When I learned it was yours, I delivered it back. From Someone Who Does Good Deeds Anonymously." Grayson smiled to himself, pleased with the plan, then tucked the note into an envelope and slipped it alongside the cash.
Meanwhile, Dr. Morgan had barely returned to his own office when a female student walked in. "Ah, Sienna—please come in," he greeted, brightening immediately and putting on an overly cheerful smile as he fetched tea for her. The man simply couldn't tear his eyes away from pretty girls—Sienna was undeniably attractive, and among the project teams, she was always at the top of the class. After pouring tea, Dr. Morgan even dragged a chair over to sit directly across from her.
"Sienna, what's on your mind?" he asked after some polite small talk.
Sienna fixed him with a steady gaze, a cold and triumphant glint flashing in her eyes as she spoke in a low, measured voice. "Dr. Morgan, I think I know what happened to Professor Hart's money."
"Oh? Where is it?" Dr. Morgan's interest piqued immediately. One million dollars was no small sum; if he found it first, he could really make a name for himself.
"It must have been picked up by Grayson," Sienna declared.
"What? Are you sure?" Dr. Morgan was taken aback. Grayson? Picked it up? How could that be? He was stunned and utterly bewildered.
But to Sienna, it felt like she'd been possessed by some brilliant detective. Earlier in the meeting, she had been brooding, but the moment she stepped out of the classroom, an idea struck her like lightning: Grayson must be the one who picked up that money! After all, he had won some prize money before—though, as Chloe had said, it was only one hundred thousand. He'd blown it all on meals and charitable donations, so he still played the part of a broke loser every day. Yet that morning, he'd been seen shopping at Véra Calisé with that little tramp Jasmine. She'd wondered where he'd suddenly gotten money again. Now it was clear: he must have found that million! If he hadn't stumbled upon it, how could he instantly donate five hundred thousand earlier? Piecing this together, Sienna's gloom lifted instantly—more than lifted, it was like dawn breaking across her whole world.
"Haha—Grayson, you pathetic loser. You've made your move, now let's see how you handle this!" Sienna thought maliciously. "You've already spent half a million; what will you do now? You're going to make a big splash at that charity banquet, right? This time, I'm going to make sure you're utterly ruined!"
And with that, Sienna left Dr. Morgan's office, her mind racing with dark satisfaction as she prepared to watch Grayson's downfall.