Zhao Jia had spent the entire afternoon weeping, her eyes swollen and red.
In a soft voice, she confided in Qin Churou, "Churou, there will definitely be a spot for you this time."
Zhao Jia's situation at school was dire, and her only option now was to firmly attach herself to Qin Churou.
Hearing Zhao Jia's words, Qin Churou felt a significant sense of relief within her.
Maintaining a humble facade, she responded, "There are still many students in our class who excel in mathematics."
"Their math skills cannot compare to yours. Churou, there's no need to be modest," Zhao Jia insisted.
Their voices were barely audible, but in the otherwise silent classroom, even the faintest whisper could be heard clearly, including by Liang Hua at the podium.
Liang Hua's gaze darkened suddenly as it fell upon Qin Churou and Zhao Jia.