Mage Joan

Of course, Joanne can see that this ball of light is a magical manifestation of 3 rings of "short messaging", loaded with the message the caster is trying to convey to him.

The question is, at this time, who will write to him?

Joan hesitated for a moment, and finally reached out to hold the ball of light, and a wave of thoughts came to his mind.

Joan silently received the letter, and his face became stranger afterwards.

"SMS" was sent by Duoer, informing him that Professor Moriarty had just returned to school and asked him to go to the laboratory immediately.

Professor Moriarty, have a chat with him about the paper.

The mentor summoned that Joan did not dare to obey and had to go back to school with a stubborn daring.

Knocking on the door of the laboratory room, Qiao An walked in with fear, even looking up at the flower that opened the door for her,

At the moment, he was only thinking about one thing, how to explain to the teacher, he was rebuked by the editor-in-chief of the Austrian Law Review for blaming this affair.

"Good afternoon, my dear student."

Professor Moriarty's hearty laughter echoed in Joan's ear.

He quickly looked up, and the wizard bowed and said hello.

Professor Moriarty is dressed casually at home, with breeches and riding boots, a white shirt on the top and a black pullover cardigan, carrying a cup of coffee, his left hand in his trouser pocket, and nodding and smiling at Joan.

"Come and sit down, Joan, come and tell me, what kind of spell did you make, making Alva Denny angry."

Professor Moriarty sat on the couch, tilted his legs, and beckoned Joan to sit down and chat.

"Haha! The old guy also made a special trip to the ski resort, grabbing my collar in public, and scolding me with my face."

"It is inexplicable, what qualifications does he have to accuse me of not being entitled to a teaching post?"

"But looking back, I do not seem to have fulfilled my responsibilities as a teacher."

Professor Moriarty touched his nose, and rarely showed a trace of shame.

Duo'er held the mahogany tea tray and stood behind Mr. Professor's sofa, pursed his lips and laughed, seeming to find it interesting that the master was scolded.

Professor Moriarty looked back and gave a pretentious glance.

The delightful golem quickly put away his smile, hugged the tea tray, and turned his head back to the kitchen.

"Although Old Man Tennyson loves to do much business, he is not the kind of person who has nothing to do. There must be some reason for it. Joan, when Old Man Tennyson roared at me, it seemed that your name was mentioned, Maybe you can tell me something about this matter."

"Are you sure that Mr. Tennyson, mentioned my name?" Joan looked at the tutor suspiciously.

"Although I was drunk at the time, I never got the wrong name for my only student." Professor Moriarty shrugged.

"But, I don't know any Mr. Tennyson."

"Alva Tennyson, executive director of the Valais Austrian Law Society and current editor-in-chief of the Austrian Law Review editorial department, do you really have no impression?"

Professor Moriarty patiently reminded.

Joan's face suddenly turned pale, and then turned red.

He remembered that the letter "A·T" in the rejected letter was not the acronym for "Alva Tennyson"!

Because of this rejection letter, Joan suffered an unprecedented blow.

But he never thought that the editor-in-chief had such a hot temper, and in the letter rebuked him that the author had not finished the meal, and went to his mentor to protest in person.

Joan felt more ashamed and blamed herself, and tears could not help turning around in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, mentor, it's me who has troubled you."

"Just last week, I voted for the paper I wrote for the Austrian Law Review."

"This morning, I received a reply."

"The editor-in-chief of the journal, Mr. Tennyson, severely criticized me in his reply, pointing out that I made many serious mistakes in the paper."

"But I didn't expect it to be a matter of rejecting the manuscript. He even went to complain to you... I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

Joanne couldn't talk anymore, and finally couldn't resist the choking urge.

Professor Moriarty silently listened to his ins and outs about the whole story, without any comment, got up and walked to the hanger, took out the handkerchief from the jacket pocket and handed it to Joan.

Joan looked up embarrassedly, took the handkerchief handed over by the tutor, and hurriedly wiped the wet corners of his eyes.

"Do you still keep that letter?"

Professor Moriarty asked softly.

Joan nodded and quickly took Mr. Tennyson's rejection letter out of his pocket.

Professor Moriarty took the letter and scanned it quickly. His face became more and more gloomy. He suddenly shattered the letter, rubbed it into a ball, threw it on the ground, and trampled it on.

"Damn it!"

"Meek old bastard!"

"Damn old thing!"

"Write a letter to a child, can such a vicious wording be used? It deserves your wife!"

Joan was overwhelmed by the tutor's rage.

Duoer heard cursing in the kitchen and hurried to the door. The probe looked at the living room, his eyes full of concern.

Professor Moriarty was like a fierce tiger in a cage, pacing back and forth in the living room, scolding.

After a long time, he gradually calmed down, unbuttoned the neckline, and took a deep breath.

"Teacher, you are quiet, this can't blame Mr. Tennyson..."

"I also know that I don't blame Tennyson, but it doesn't prevent me from scolding him in the back and letting out a bad breath."

Professor Moriarty's magnificent rogues made a pie, making Joan a little cry.

Duo'er hid in the kitchen door and chuckled at her mouth. Seeing that the owner had calmed down and regained her rogue nature, the worries in her eyes dissipated.

"Overall, I don't blame you for this matter, nor can I blame Tennyson for overreacting. The person who should be responsible is me."

Professor Moriartie patted his chest.

"I blame myself for my pleasure, not reading the paper as soon as I received it, but instead saying something irresponsible and encouraging you to submit at will."

"Old Man Tennyson accused me of not fulfilling my mentor's obligations, neither teaching you thesis writing skills, nor checking your manuscript review. This is indeed my fault and indisputable."

"But having said that, Old Man Tennyson, as the editor-in-chief, didn't need to write a rejection letter in person, and there was no need to ask my teacher to blame, and he did so, Joanne, why do you think this is?"

Professor Moriarty looked deeply at his students, his gray and blue eyes that subsided with anger, and they became deep and wise again.

"Mr. Tennyson is a responsible good editor."

Joan couldn't help but feel ashamed that he had complained about Mr. Tennyson's hard-pressed rejection letter.

"This is only part of the reason. The more important factor is that the old Tennyson actually appreciates the outstanding talents you show in the paper, as well as your early wisdom. Your passion for academic research shows a genius. The potential of scholars."

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