Flora sipped her milk lazily and said, "I don't have the time."

Samson, taken aback by her indifferent tone, found himself speechless, all his planned arguments stuck in his throat.

No time?

We're talking about fifty million dollars here. How could she not care at all?

What could possibly be more important than fifty million dollars?

It's true, the wealthy really do think differently.

Samson cautiously asked, "Do you have something more important to do?"

"I'm spending the weekend with my fiancé."

Samson: "..."

He stared at the disconnected call, questioning his life choices.

"How did it go? Did she agree?" asked Bowie, standing next to him eagerly.

"Well, she's busy this weekend. She won't be able to come back to campus just yet, so..." Samson chose his words carefully, not wanting to upset Bowie.

Bowie, a renowned instructor at the National Dance Association, was a name known to anyone in the dance world.

"I see, I'll come back on Monday then," Bowie decided after a moment of thought.

It was normal for a young lady to want to enjoy her weekend and not return to school; he would make another trip on Monday.

He had checked her schedule; Flora had no classes on Monday afternoon.

He truly admired Flora's dance style and was willing to invest more time.

...

Flora spent two days at Sandy Bay, mostly video-calling Aisha and remotely teaching her coding.

Her explanations were unique and spot-on, allowing Aisha to make rapid progress in just two days.

On Monday morning, Flora finally started her journey back to school.

Cynthia and Eilies had already saved her a seat.

The morning lecture was on physics, a subject that made everyone's head spin.

Cynthia, who detested physics, was almost in tears as she took notes.

They barely made it through the class, and as soon as it was over, Cynthia dragged Eilies and Flora towards the exit.

However, at that moment, Samson led Bowie briskly into the classroom.

Bowie had been waiting at the classroom door, eager not to miss Flora as soon as the class ended.

Most of the students were still in the room, curiously listening in as they saw the counselor lead a stranger to meet Flora.

"Flora, this is Bowie, whom I mentioned over the phone," the counselor Samson hinted to Flora to greet him.

Flora smiled, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Bowie."

Her eyes were clear and confident, and Bowie found himself liking her even more.

"Miss Flora, I'm here again regarding the dance copyright issue. My initial offer was fifty million dollars, but if you think that's too low, we can negotiate. Moreover, I truly admire your dance style. In you, I see a vigor that I haven't come across in decades, and..."

Bowie went on about the dance, seemingly without end.

But the audience was not listening to his detailed praises.

They caught on to a few keywords.

Dance original copyright, fifty million dollars...

He wanted to pay fifty million dollars for the dance Flora performed at the welcome party!

The crowd twitched, aghast.

Fifty million dollars... That was more money than many families could earn in a lifetime, and here was Flora, earning it with just a dance. It was infuriating...

What made it even worse was that Flora seemed utterly unfazed, as if fifty million dollars meant no more to her than five dollars.

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