Chapter 90 Mr. Shakespeare's Contribution
Zacharias: "Harold, you are now the scholar who represents the face of our college. With your presence, our college will surpass other colleges in terms of morale!"
Harold: ...What kind of appearance? The god of war of the academy?
Don't even want to go.
"In fact, I have thought of a few plans myself. I will propose to the Sage that the theme of this event be 'Using Dun Dun Peach to Make Sugar, Embrace a Better Life', and apply to the Ministry of the Church to post the poster carefully designed by the Great Sage in front of the booth!"
...Ah, aren’t you ashamed?
Maybe no one thinks so now, but in five years, this will definitely become a hot topic.
Feeling that Harold was not in the mood, Zacharias thought for a moment and felt that the problem might be with the sugar production, so he quickly comforted him:
“Considering the reputation of the Council of Ministers among the people, it is impossible for the Council of Ministers to attribute the improvement of the sugar industry to an individual. The Great Sage can only announce to the public that Dun Dun Peach Sugar Refinery is a successful project that the Shenglun School has been researching for 20 years.
The Great Sage did this out of helplessness. The control of the House of Lords over the surrounding areas has declined over the years. Even if the Great Sage recruits mercenaries everywhere to improve the situation, it is ultimately a drop in the bucket. Your project just happens to solve the urgent needs of the House of Lords.
However, since your first funding application report was submitted, it has received great attention from various colleges, and most people in the College of Religion know that the success of Dun Dun Peach Sugar Production is due to you.
Moreover, this subject has brought you into the vision of many wise men, and they are well aware of your contribution.
Whatever research you want to do in the future, they will pay special attention to it and try their best to meet your needs. This is your compensation. So don’t feel that you haven’t received the rewards you deserve from this project.”
"Teacher, the current situation is completely within my expectations. I had already considered it when I submitted the funding application."
Harold was a little amused, but he also understood where his mentor's concerns came from. It must be said that he was a mentor who really liked to put himself in other people's shoes.
Zechariah did not believe Harold's words. As a scholar, what he cared about most were these empty things.
But he did not continue to persuade her, as he felt that his student would figure it out sooner or later, and that Harold's other projects could bring him as much fame as the improvements to the sugar industry.
"I will attend the party," said Harold.
"Really?!" Zachariah was extremely happy.
"Well, I will bring three times the size of mice and sugar-making equipment, but I can't guarantee that these things can defeat the Miaolun School." Harold rubbed his temple.
Zacharias was overjoyed to receive Harold's affirmative answer. He felt that with the participation of his favorite disciple, Amyrido College would definitely be the most watched one among the six colleges in this carnival.
...
Zubair Theater.
The girl with beautiful red hair had just finished a dance. Amid the cheers of the audience, she maintained the last dance move and exhaled a few times.
Then, surrounded by flowers all over the venue, she performed a few slower dance moves and put one hand on her chest to greet the audience, quietly hiding her chest that was heaving due to her rapid breathing.
"Thank you, thank you everyone for liking my dance."
The heavy curtain gradually fell at this time, covering the girl's figure bit by bit.
The audience's shouting reached a peak at this time, and some people even broke their voices.
"Nello, Nello!"
"Ms. Nilu, please dance again!"
...
Behind the curtain, the girl, Nilu, did not walk off the stage with graceful and reserved dance steps as the audience expected. Instead, she stretched out her tired body with a sense of relief.
"...I feel like I danced really well today. Everyone was so focused when watching me dance. This is a dance that my teacher often dances. Phew...I was so nervous. I was so nervous. I practiced for a long time...Luckily I didn't perform badly..."
The more Nilu thought about it, the more nervous she became. When dancing, she put her whole heart into it, wanting to convey her happiness and vision to the audience through her dance moves. But as soon as she got off the stage, her legs felt a little weak when she thought back to her performance on stage.
I walked backstage and onto the audience stand reserved for theater staff. Theater manager Mr. Zubair, prop engineer Rikar, Gassani and others were standing on the stage.
The next performance had already begun. The acrobat Kurosh came on stage with three inflatable balls of 30 cm in diameter on his head, preparing to perform his specialties. However, the other members did not appreciate his performance or make their own preparations as usual, but instead whispered about something around Mr. Zubair.
"Ms. Nilu, are you tired from dancing? Would you like a cold drink?"
Ricardo noticed Nilu first and smiled at her. As a mother of two children, she had a natural liking for the young Nilu. Nilu often played with her children, and she treated Nilu as her children's sister.
"No, no, no, don't bother, I'm not very thirsty." Nilu waved her hand to refuse.
Then, she asked curiously, "What are you doing? Have Mr. Zubair and Mr. Ghassani written a new script?"
But Zubair sir and Ghasani sir probably won’t show the script to everyone while I’m performing.
Sheikh Zubair shook his head. "This time the script came from 'Mr. Shakespeare'. It should be someone sitting in the audience. When your performance reached its climax and everyone's attention was focused on you, he put the script and the letter backstage."
This sudden submission left everyone confused.
Hearing Zubair say that everyone's attention was on her, Nilu couldn't help but tug at her sleeves after imagining the scene. At the same time, she was filled with confusion: "But why did that gentleman do this?"
"I think it might be for some shady purposes. Shakespeare? It doesn't sound like a Xumi name. It's probably a pseudonym. He is most likely sent by the Council of Lords." Gasani said to the man wearing a monocle.
In the past few years, people from the House of the Order had appeared at the theater many times, using various reasons to criticize their performances, but Mr. Zubair's theater had all the necessary procedures, and their performances were widely praised by the residents of Xumi City, so the people from the House of the Order had to return home empty-handed every time.
Zubair also thought this speculation was very likely: "I don't understand why they keep targeting us and even resort to such dirty tricks this time."
"Wait...Mr. Zubair, I still don't understand why you said that Mr. Shakespeare was sent by the Fatma?" asked Nilu.
"Nilu, take a look at his poems." Gasani handed the paper in his hand to Nilu.
Nilu took the paper and saw that the words on it were all typed. She said "Hmm?" softly.
Due to the control of the Faith Court over paper documents, typewriters are rare in Xumi and are generally only used by scholars and big businessmen.
If you just want to share your poems with others, you can just write them by hand, why bother using a typewriter?
Before reading the content, Nilu already had a rough idea of where everyone's doubts came from.