Pretending To Have A Certain Persona Can Be Tiring - Chapter 16

He outlined the face shape, added a few messy strokes to create slightly curly short hair for the figure, and then glanced at Song Yang in the distance, filling in details bit by bit while comparing him to the sketch.

“President, that is the report from our department.” He Jia Miao’s voice instantly pulled Ji Ting’s attention back.

Ji Ting calmly lifted his finger to switch applications, found the questions he had recorded, and commented on the department’s work—concise and hitting the key points.

Everyone listened with bated breath. Only Song Yang rolled his eyes, silently praying for the King of Pretension to finish speaking so he could be set free.

After the critique, He Jia Miao announced the end of the meeting. Song Yang grabbed his backpack without hesitation and bolted for the door.

“Song Yang.”

Ji Ting’s voice struck like an ice pick. Song Yang, who had just reached the classroom door, slammed on the brakes, turned his head, and shot him a sidelong glare.

Ji Ting sat upright, maintaining his posture while looking at his tablet, his expression stern. “You stay for a moment; the others can leave.”

“Huh?” Song Yang froze in place.

Those passing by silently offered him looks of consolation. He Jia Miao, the last to leave, patted his shoulder, whispered “Good luck,” and kindly closed the door behind him.

The door clicked shut, and the classroom fell silent. Song Yang dared to be angry but not speak. A dark fire rose within him, yet he maintained a fawning smile on his lips. “Senior, what kind of trick are you playing now? No, I mean, what else do you need me to do for you?”

Ji Ting glanced at him coldly and beckoned with his finger. “Come here.”

Song Yang’s smile vanished; he knew things were going south.

He walked toward Ji Ting, feeling like a lamb waiting for slaughter. The King of Pretension was a grim wolf lurking in the shadows, ready to bare his fangs and tear him apart at any moment.

“What is it…”

Ji Ting lifted his chin toward the chair in front of him. “Sit.”

Song Yang clenched his sleeves, moving his stiff limbs as if they had just been domesticated, and pulled out the chair to sit facing Ji Ting.

He calculated that he had not committed any major offenses lately, except for eating noodles.

He had already had his conduct points deducted—what else could have triggered the King of Pretension?

Unable to figure it out, he cautiously lifted his eyes, catching sight of Ji Ting’s well-defined fingers gripping a stylus, drawing something on the tablet.

He looked up, suddenly colliding with Ji Ting’s gaze. At that close distance, the other’s aura was like a collapsing snow mountain, waves of snow and bitter cold rushing toward him, making Song Yang’s hair stand on end.

Song Yang looked away and asked tentatively, “Senior, I was drunk at the dinner the other night. Did I say anything offensive? I tend to blackout when I drink; I do not remember anything.”

“No,” Ji Ting replied, still staring at him.

Song Yang was unnerved by the stare and lowered his eyelids, muttering, “Then why are you keeping me here?”

“Tell me about your thoughts on your work lately.”

Song Yang choked for a long time, finally squeezing out a single word: “It is… okay.”

Ji Ting studied his face in detail, his burning gaze slowly wandering over his facial contours and lingering on the small mole on the tip of his nose for a few seconds before he looked down and began to draw on the screen.

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

Song Yang sensed something was wrong. He craned his neck to peek at the tablet, but at this angle, he could see nothing.

“What work did you do during the competition?”

“Are you drawing me?”

Ji Ting covered the tablet slightly and said coldly, “Answer my question.”

Seeing his intent to hide it, Song Yang gained a bit of courage and reached out to grab the computer. “You really are drawing me! What are you trying to do, secretly sketching me?”

Ji Ting calmly turned the tablet around. Song Yang saw that the drawing on the screen was of Xiaodai—an unfinished draft.

Song Yang was speechless. He awkwardly tugged at the corners of his lips, then buried his head, silently digging into the floor with his toes.

“Caring about the work situation of department members is my duty as President.” Ji Ting glanced at his posture—slumped crookedly against the back of the chair—and said coldly, “Sit up straight and answer the question.”

Song Yang sat up straight abruptly, stammering, “Uh… I was responsible for registration. I was shouting at the booth, handing out registration forms, and pulling everyone into the competition group chat… that is it.”

Ji Ting asked while drawing, “What did you learn?”

“Learned… let me think…” Taking advantage of Ji Ting looking at the tablet, Song Yang secretly took out his phone and quickly opened his browser. “Uh… this activity was a breakthrough and exercise for me. It helped me understand the importance of unity and cooperation and clarified my position, responsibilities, and obligations.”

“That is enough.” Ji Ting frowned, interrupting him. “Stop reading from Baidu. If you cannot say this much, how did you pass the interview?”

Song Yang thought: Boasting during an interview is the basic skill of a worker. Besides, did you not let me pass?

He was too lazy to argue. “You can just assume that months of college life destroyed my brain and caused cerebellar atrophy.”

“There is a student representative meeting next Friday. The Student Union needs to arrange personnel to attend. Do you want me to take you?”

Song Yang clenched his fist, hearing the forced tone in his voice.

Am I the only one left in the entire Student Union? If you keep picking on me, I am going to go bald!

“Just me and you?”

“You can follow other chairpersons if you want.”

Song Yang gritted his teeth and said, “Do I dare?”

“Then I will take it as you being a volunteer. I will notify you later.” Ji Ting lazily dropped his eyelids and spoke slowly, “Nothing else. You can go.”

“Okay, okay, okay. Goodbye, Senior!” Song Yang’s heart swelled with joy. He bolted like a bird out of a cage.

Ji Ting looked with satisfaction at the anime figure he had finished, then exported the file.