?Chapter 1701:


    When the brief wee ceremony ended, Ainslie asked the students to return to their sses while the delivery team began unloading boxes of supplies.


    “Let me show you around the school. After the tour, you can address the students.” With that, Ainslie led Ethan and Brenna toward the main ssroom building, her voice filled with warmth.


    Elsa walked beside them, and she realized the list of suppliescked any mention of ssroom or dormitory repairs. She looked at Ethan and asked, “Didn’t I tell you to bring people to fix the ssrooms and dormitories?”


    Ethan replied calmly, “I haven’t forgotten about that, Mom. It’s not a major project. I’ve already sent someone into town to hire workers. They should arrive soon to start fixing things up.”


    “That’s good to hear. But honestly, just look at these buildings. They’re falling apart. In my view, it might be wiser to invest in building an entirely new school,” Elsa said.


    Ainslie nced at Ethan, then at Elsa, before speaking with measured conviction. “I see little need to squander resources. The teaching buildings, sturdily constructed, could endure another three decades with modest repairs. Frankly, new construction seems unnecessary.”


    Ethan nodded in quiet ord. “Exactly. Constructing gleaming, cutting-edge facilities and opulent dormitories might invite unwanted scrutiny. Renovating the existing structures is the more prudent path.”


    His aim was to shield the school from the prying eyes of opportunists.


    Elsa, unaware of Ethan’s deeper intentions, simply assumed her son was being stingy. Still, she held her tongue in the presence of the principal.


    As they toured the school, Ethan surveyed the ssrooms’ condition. The students’ desks and chairs bore the scars of heavy use, and the ckboards were outdated as well.


    The roomscked modern projection tools, their walls were dim with age, and the floors were unadorned cement. The setting was, undeniably, austere.


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    Yet, despite these hardships, the students were diligent, listening to every word from their teachers, whose fervor was infectious.


    Outside the ssroom of the top-performing senior ss, Ainslie turned to the group with warmth. “This is our finest ss. The students here are exceptional. Mr. Mitchell, Ms. Harper, would you share a few words to inspire them? There is no greater spark than the wisdom of aplished figures like yourselves.”


    Ethan and Brenna exchanged a knowing smile, both agreeing.


    The English lesson was in full swing when Ainslie interjected, “My apologies for the disruption. Allow me to introduce Mr. Ethan Mitchell, CEO of the Mitchell Group, and Ms. Brenna Harper, the CEO of Night Studio. They’ve brought resources to our school today. You were in ss during the wee ceremony earlier, so you didn’t see them then. Let’s give them a hearty wee to share a few words.”


    The teacher, Selma Palmer, in her forties, radiated vitality and seasoned expertise, having guided numerous graduating sses to impressive oues.


    She said, “Wee, Mr. Mitchell and Ms. Harper. We’ve been eagerly awaiting your visit. The students look up to you as exemrs and are brimming with questions.”


    As Selma finished, a surge of spirited apuse filled the room, all eyes fixed expectantly on the two guests.


    Ethan looked at Brenna and said, “You should take the floor first. At an all-girls school, your words may resonate more deeply with them.”


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