Phoebe's POV
I headed upstairs to my room, soaked in a long bath, then slipped into a baggy nightgown that went down to my ankles—covered in adorable cartoon characters.
The moment I walked out of the bathroom, still towel-drying my hair, my phone pinged with a WhatsApp notification.
I draped my wet hair over one shoulder, working the towel through it with one hand while grabbing my phone with the other.
Harold had sent me something. His message was brief. [Fill this out.]
I quirked an eyebrow. I had a hunch about what this was. When I opened the attachment, my suspicion was confirmed—an application for Clearwater University.
I was impressed by how quickly he'd moved on this.
My hair was almost dry now, so I tossed the towel aside and dug my old, clunky laptop out of my suitcase.
I settled at the desk, opened a file, transferred my academic records and test scores, then completed the form.
The entire process took under two minutes. I hit send without hesitation.
Harold accepted the file immediately—he must've been sitting there waiting for my response.
After a brief moment, he typed back: Got it.
Then, oddly enough, he followed that with an eye-roll emoji.
But that was typical of him—no questions asked.
He forwarded my application directly to Chad without delay.
——
Chad Calvin—president of Clearwater University—belonged to one of Clearwater's four powerhouse families. The Goodwins wielded influence across both political and business spheres. Their clout was something most elite families wouldn't dare cross.
Even children from Clearwater's wealthiest households walked on eggshells around Chad, understanding he could easily destroy their academic prospects.
Furthermore, he was the most beloved principal among high society.
Yet Chad, typically composed and unflappable, completely lost his cool the instant he glimpsed Phoebe's application.
Within three minutes, he was video-calling Harold.
He appeared agitated but managed a strained smile when Harold answered. "Harold, who exactly is this young woman?"
Just an hour earlier, Chad had been ecstatic when Harold mentioned discovering a traditional medicine genius for the university.
Clearwater University's medical program was already renowned, but it lacked strength in traditional medicine. In Coralia, traditional medicine wasn't particularly mainstream—modern medicine dominated.
However, for these centuries-old aristocratic families, regardless of how cutting-edge modern medicine became, it couldn't match the reliable, proven methods of traditional medicine.
Then there was the myth: Buck. The world-famous physician who had once saved countless lives using the Golden Eighty-One Technique—his reputation had practically elevated him to legendary status in elite medical communities.
As Clearwater University's president, Chad had spent years attempting to recruit genuine traditional medicine talent. So when Harold claimed he'd found someone, Chad's expectations soared.
But the second he reviewed the application, those expectations shattered.
Phoebe's academic performance was abysmal—potentially the worst he'd encountered. Her photograph revealed an attractive but rebellious-looking girl who obviously didn't take anything seriously.
Based on Chad's extensive experience, she didn't appear to possess the discipline or patience required for traditional medicine study. To him, she screamed trouble.
Chad assumed Harold wasn't attracted to her intellect—he probably just found her appealing.
"She's the traditional medicine prodigy I mentioned," Harold stated matter-of-factly, completely ignoring Chad's visible distress on the video screen.
Chad attempted to maintain his composure. "Harold, you understand Clearwater University exclusively admits exceptional students. I'm concerned this attractive girl might struggle academically."
Harold's expression hardened. "Hold on. Are you telling me you're refusing someone I personally endorsed?"
Chad froze at Harold's cutting tone. His grip on the phone wavered slightly. "No, that wasn't my intention. I simply think if she draws too much attention, she might face harassment."
Harold fixed his stare on Chad, that arrogant, piercing look in his eyes suggesting exactly how ruthless he could become.
"So you're claiming students at Coralia's premier university engage in bullying, and you're powerless to prevent it?" He continued, "Perhaps I've been squandering my donation funds on your institution."
"Absolutely not! I've invested every dollar of your contributions wisely!" Chad panicked under Harold's intimidating, wealthy-elite pressure and retreated quickly. "Since you're supporting her, I'm certain she possesses unique qualities. Alright, I'll make a special exception and approve her enrollment."
Harold nodded but maintained his intensity. "When will her acceptance letter be sent?"
Chad clenched his jaw but smiled through his frustration. "I'll have my team prepare it immediately. We'll deliver it tomorrow morning. She'll receive it by tomorrow afternoon."
Harold considered this, then said, "She's visiting me tomorrow. Just have someone deliver it to Bailey Mansion."
Chad was stunned. By now, he was certain Harold was simply infatuated with a beautiful face.
He released a heavy sigh. Harold wielded too much influence in Clearwater to challenge, and now the girl he'd forced into the school would likely be equally untouchable.
Chad would need to select her instructors cautiously—he didn't want any complications if she created problems.
——
Phoebe's POV
I had no clue that Clearwater University's president now considered me just as intimidating as Harold.
Eventually, whenever I caused chaos on campus, Chad would dump all the issues on Harold. He even assigned Harold a bogus librarian position just to monitor me.
But I was oblivious to all that. I was sprawled on my bed, attempting to calm down a frantic Buck over video chat. "I understand you're stressed," I said, massaging my temples. "But could you relax for a minute?"
Buck was pacing across the screen, clearly panicked. "Relax? One of the few brothers I have left is dying! I should've returned to Coralia yesterday!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain about that? Aren't you worried about being hunted? And I'm assuming none of those bodyguards on your private island can pilot an aircraft, correct?"
Buck fell silent.