The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman

During breakfast, Merkel watched Schiller's clumsy folding of the newspaper, he hesitated, and said:

Sir, would you like me to help you?

Schiller didn't answer, he was trying to get the newspaper upright so he could see it, and he could still eat with a fork, but he soon found out. It is still difficult to do this, and it is far less convenient than looking at the phone, so he sighed and threw the newspaper aside.

Lamenting once again the backwardness of technology in the 20th century, Schiller began to concentrate on dealing with the food on the plate.

Re-baked toast, served with sausages, fried eggs and braised peas, plus a cup of hot milk at just the right temperature, neither cooking nor cleaning the dishes, Schiller sat back in his chair Leaning on it, lamenting the corruption of noble life.

But Merkel, who was about to clean up the dishes, was stunned again. He looked down at his watch again and found that Schiller had only eaten the meal for 20 minutes, and it was not even 7 o'clock now.

There was nothing left on the plate, except for a small portion of bread that was slightly over-tested, a bit of stewed pea soup, the knife was casually left at hand, while the fork was placed on the plate, and the milk cup was placed on the plate in front of...

Maybe Schiller was really sick, Merkel thought.

Let's not talk about the eating process that has no sense of ritual and fixed process at all, nor the irregular leftover meals, and the completely irregular knives and forks can also be ignored. It's not exactly the milk glass in the middle, it's enough to make Schiller irritable all day long.

If this happened in the past, Merkel can only pray silently for the students in class today.

The overly normal dining process surprised Merkel. He was so patronizing and surprised that he didn't have a chance to say anything when he was full.

Just when he was about to find a chance to speak, Schiller stood up and said, I'll go up to sleep for a while, call me at about 9:30, thank you.

Merkel's eyes widened, and he showed a hesitant expression. Schiller looked at his expression and asked, What's wrong?

You mean you plan to go upstairs to sleep after dinner?

Uh, can't it? Schiller glanced at his watch and said, Isn't my class at 10 o'clock? It's only 7 o'clock now, what are you doing so early?

Um...well, I'll call you on time if you're going to do that, oh wait! You said 9:30, which...

Gotham University is not far from here. Schiller said as he walked upstairs, Even if you ride a bicycle, you can get there in half an hour.

With that, he went back to the bedroom, leaving only Merkel who was still surprised.

With two minutes left before 10 o'clock, Schiller, who was sitting in the driver's seat, first glanced forward at the endless traffic jam, and then looked back at his own home, which was still in sight and very clear. He sighed deeply, regretting that he took the initiative to take over for DC Schiller.

At 10:10, the classrooms at Gotham University were full, and most of them were whispering and talking in low voices.

At this moment, footsteps sounded from outside the door, and everyone immediately sat up straight and stopped talking. The air in the classroom was like a piece of frozen ice.

The footsteps gradually accelerated. At this time, it was Evans who rushed into the classroom. He had just entered the classroom, and before he even had time to look at the situation on the podium, he hurriedly said:

I'm really sorry, Professor, it's the first day of traffic opening today, it's really too congested, I got up at 6 in the morning and went out at 7, but it's only now, I'm really sorry...

When he found that no one responded to him, Evans remembered to look at the podium, and then he realized that there was no one there.

He widened his eyes, walked to his seat with a puzzled face and sat down, and then he saw Bruce sitting next to him, staring at the podium thoughtfully.

What's going on? Bruce, where's the professor?

Bruce shook his head slowly, and Evans' eyes widened again. He looked around and found that the eyes of his classmates were all on him, so he could only stand up and say:

Don't worry, I'll find someone to call the professor.

About 20 minutes later, Schiller, who was still stuck in the manor area, saw a helicopter with the Wayne Group logo on it slowly landed on the lawn of a manor.

Bruce comes out of there, and Schiller sticks his hand out the window and waves him.

Bruce stepped forward and looked at Schiller who was sitting in the driver's seat silently. He asked, Why are you here?

Shouldn't this be my question to you? How did you come here? Still flying a helicopter?

Evans called your manor, and your butler told him that you left the house an hour ago. According to Gotham's traffic laws, I guess you should be stuck here.

What's wrong with you? Bruce asked suspiciously.

What's wrong with me? Schiller was also very puzzled, he misunderstood what Bruce meant, he waved his hand and said, Well, I'm just unlucky and got stuck in a big traffic jam, next time I'll try to go as early as possible, you Go back and tell the students that this class has been changed to self-study...

Bruce went around the car, opened the passenger door, sat in Schiller's passenger seat, and turned his head, squinting at him.

Is there a problem? Schiller also looked at him and asked.

But Bruce is still staring at him, not saying a word, so Schiller can only say, Well, you little bastards, free yourself, okay?

Bruce's eyes narrowed tighter and tighter, and it has become a very typical suspicious expression. When Schiller caught a glimpse of his expression from the corner of his eye, he couldn't help turning his head, looked up and down Bruce and said, Don't tell me , you still want me to ask for leave from other teachers, isn't that a bit too much?

What's the matter with you? You don't just have an anxiety disorder. Have you had a mental test recently?

I'm mentally healthy.

Holding the steering wheel with one hand, Schiller moved a little forward with the flow of traffic, he said: Don't forget, you still have a bill to pay, if you have nothing to do, go and take care of your group and earn more money.

Bruce stared at Schiller for a long time, seeing that he didn't reply anymore, he could only open the car door and walk down.

When he returned to the classroom at Gotham University and told all the students the news that the class had been changed to a free activity, no one showed any excitement, and the people below were all whispering.

Oops! If this class is a free activity, the next class must be a big exam. The professor must be testing whether we can study independently. If we fail the exam...

Free movement? Damn free movement! How could that devil let us move freely? This must be a trap!

We've been closed for so long, and he doesn't take the exam?? Bruce, are you making a mistake?

Stop talking, hurry to the library, don't forget, those freshmen will compete with us for seats too!

Go, go! Bruce, are you going? I'll save you a seat...

When hearing this question, Bruce really hesitated, because he really wasn't sure if this was really Schiller's trap.

Although there is not much room for Bruce's performance to drop, if Schiller calls Alfred if it hits a new low, he won't be able to go out for night tours recently.

After hesitating for less than a second, he said:

Help me take a seat, thank you.

When Schiller arrived at Gotham University, it was already time for lunch. After he walked into the office, everyone's eyes were on him. Anna, who taught advanced mathematics, walked over first, and he looked up and down. Le, then said:

Just now your student Evans found me after the high math class and asked me to care about your mental state, because he heard from Bruce that the class starts at 10 o'clock today, and you don't leave until 9:30.

Of course, being late is nothing new in Gotham, but being late because of a traffic jam, is this your first day in Gotham?

Schiller sighed and said, Why do you think an average traffic jam of three hours is a normal thing?

The average traffic jam of three hours is certainly not normal, because the average traffic jam used to be five hours.

There are only twenty-four hours in a day! said Schiller, raising his voice.

There are twenty-four hours in a day! Anna said in a raised voice.

At this moment, Victor came in, holding books and materials in his hand, he seemed to have just finished class, saw Schiller sitting at the desk, he walked up to Schiller, and took his hand Put down the things, then knocked on the partition and said: Let's go, eat.

He turned to Anna again and said, Anna, don't be like this, it's normal to be late, especially last night when the sudden announcement to reopen to traffic, everyone is overwhelmed, there will definitely be extra cars.

Schiller and I are both foreigners. It's normal not to adapt to the traffic conditions here.

Then, he said to Schiller: Don't worry about it, it's just time to give your students a vacation. If I ask you, you pushed them a little too hard before. Education can't be rushed.

After finishing speaking, Victor came over and took Schiller to the restaurant for dinner.

To Schiller, Victor was arguably his best friend in Gotham, and to Victor, Schiller was the same.

Because the two of them have a good relationship, Victor is very aware of Schiller's eccentricity. Victor didn't care about the fact that he suddenly chose to delay going out and was late because of traffic jams. What's the matter? Could there be a plan for Frozen Gotham outrageous?

And this relaxed mood only lasted until he and Schiller had dinner together.

Because he saw Schiller pick up a piece of broccoli with a fork and pop it into his mouth.