Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife

Chapter 437: Chapter 437: Old Mr. Smith Crashes into the Wedding Hall (Part 2) Chapter 437: Chapter 437: Old Mr. Smith Crashes into the Wedding Hall (Part 2) The entire school, teachers and students, remained motionless after listening.

As medical students, they might not have heard of Old Mr. Smith’s name but surely knew the genius Dr. Smith.

Her death had shocked the entire medical community. Even an authoritative national medical journal dedicated an entire issue to her life achievements in her memory.

Recently, a set of her surgical knives was auctioned at a charity gala for two hundred million, further pushing her fame to its peak.

And now, this man was Old Mr. Smith, a titan in the field of traditional Flowery medicine?

And he was going to take in disciples at the medical university?

Although they couldn’t compliment the old man’s temper, if they could become his disciple, it would mean becoming Dr. Smith’s junior. Just that title alone would ensure a worry-free life, right?

Moreover, Dr. Smith was the junior of Dean Foster from cardiothoracic surgery. If one acknowledged this old man as their master, it also meant building a connection with Dean Foster.

The future would be immeasurable.

Even without considering all this, this old man just acted so bossy towards Headmaster Theodore. Their headmaster, usually so high-handed, not only didn’t get angry but adopted a bootlicker’s stance, showing this man was genuinely formidable.

To become his last disciple, so what if one got scolded?

All students grasping the pros and cons below the stage were eager to try.

Abigail, standing on the stage with a furrowed brow and stern face, as if someone owed him a hundred bucks, glanced at Brandon Piers watching the show and whispered to her two roommates, “My uncle and aunt are still waiting for me outside. I’ll leave first. See you.”

Lena Locke grabbed Abigail’s hand, “Aren’t you going to wait? Listen to the conditions for taking disciples. Maybe we have a chance too.”

“No, his temper is too bad. I can’t stand it.” Abigail was about to get up as she spoke.

But Duncan Symons behind her couldn’t help but mock, “Who are you to think Old Mr. Smith would consider or not consider you, and you still dare dislike his bad temper!”

“Hmm, wish you become his last disciple!” Abigail genuinely wished her well.

“You…” Duncan thought Abigail was being sarcastic, got so angry that she grunted but feared disturbing the people on the stage. Then she suddenly asked Bertha Swift in surprise, “Bertha, isn’t your family a traditional medicine family? You learned traditional medicine in your childhood. Old Mr. Smith would definitely favor you.”

A trace of determination flashed across Bertha Swift’s beautiful face. Her fists clenched. She never dreamed that Old Mr. Smith would take disciples at the medical university.

Or rather, she never dreamed Old Mr. Smith would still take disciples.

Although the Swift family was a traditional medicine family, there was still a gap in medical skills and reputation compared to Old Mr. Smith.

With the Swift family declining, the main reason, apart from traditional medicine’s decreasing domestic status, was that their medical skills were broad but not refined. They focused mainly on making medicine, but compared to Western medicine, the effects were slow and not necessarily better. So, the Swift family had long sought a breakthrough.

This was also why her father had no choice but to let her marry into the Piers’ second branch.

If she could catch Old Mr. Smith’s eye and become Church Smith’s last disciple now, it would significantly increase the Swift family’s prestige in the medical world.

But thinking and talking were two different things. Bertha Swift, who was sitting beside Duncan as a student representative for a speech, didn’t expect Duncan to rope her in at a critical moment.

Failing to respond earlier wasn’t enough. Now, dragging her into this made Bertha unhappy. “Old Mr. Smith has a solitary nature and a righteous personality. He always selects disciples strictly. With thousands of talented students at the medical university, no one can guarantee they’d be chosen. Duncan, be cautious with your words in the future.”

Duncan didn’t expect to be lectured by Bertha Swift. Upon recalling Abigail’s instigating words earlier, she glared angrily at Abigail.

Unwillingly blamed, Abigail shrugged and prepared to leave. Lena Locke and Sophie Hope, hearing Abigail’s words and then Bertha Swift’s, felt it was useless to stay. So they followed Abigail to bid farewell to her uncle and aunt outside.

Lena Locke grabbed Abigail, “I think you’re right. What’s the use of becoming an apprentice of such a bad-tempered old man? Being scolded every day would hurt my parents. I’ll go with you.”

“I might end up fighting him. Count me in.” Sophie Hope shrugged coolly.

Abigail couldn’t help but smile, knowing they were doing it to support her. She happily agreed.

She didn’t want them to suffer her grandfather’s bamboo cane in the future. Let someone like Duncan Symons become his disciple.

On stage, Brandon Piers had been keeping an eye on Abigail. Seeing her about to leave, he also lost interest in staying, about to get up when Old Mr. Smith, who was also observing Abigail, got anxious seeing his granddaughter sneaking away with two girls.

“Humph, is this the quality of your medical university?”

Cameron Theodore, cautiously consulting Old Mr. Smith about the conditions for accepting disciples, didn’t understand and followed the old man’s gaze, spotting three girls sneaking away in the corridor.

His face darkened, “Which department do you belong to?”

Abigail, Lena Locke, and Sophie Hope looked at each other and finally confirmed he was talking to them.

Embarrassed, they stood straight, realizing everyone was looking at them.

What scares students the most? Of course, it’s the principal’s sudden concern.

“What do we do? Didn’t they say we could leave if we didn’t want to stay?” Lena Locke felt wronged and confused. Did she misunderstand the headmaster’s earlier words?

Sophie Hope didn’t understand either, but Abigail did. She sighed and looked at her grandfather as if asking, “Old Mr. Smith, what are you trying to do?”

“I’m asking you three, which department?” Cameron Theodore was displeased at their silence.

Abigail quickly stepped forward. She hadn’t attended school in years and wasn’t sure how to respond. She raised her head, chest high, and answered loudly, “Reporting to the principal, I’m in clinical medicine surgery.”

Lena Locke and Sophie Hope, stunned for a moment, echoed, “Reporting to the principal, add one.”

Add one?

“Reporting to the principal, I’m in clinical anesthesia.”

“Three idiots!” Duncan, the closest to the trio, cursed with shaking eardrums. She knew Headmaster Theodore hated public embarrassments.

Catching them sneaking off in front of Old Mr. Smith was a disgrace, sure to make their lives difficult.

Hah, they were stupid. She didn’t need to intervene; they’d ruin themselves.

Sophie Hope almost turned around to hit Duncan but was held back by Abigail, “Calm down.”

Cameron Theodore, angered by their brazen reports, sneered, “Hah, you three still have some gall?”

Everyone looked at the trio, one being the previously lucky chubby girl, now envied and mocked.