The room was silent. Now, everyone looked at Abraham. When they looked at that expressionless and plain-looking old man, their eyes were filled with awe as if looking at a blinding sun.
He passed? He passed just like that?!
Since the birth of the academic world, there had never been someone who dared to directly refuse a question and still pass! This guy…where did he come from?
Ingmar’s expression grew livid. He glared at Abraham as if looking at a demon and cursed under his breath, breaking out of character.
"Yeah, that’s my teacher! My teacher!" Overjoyed, Charles grasped a reporter’s hand and would not let go. "Write a few more words! Write a few more words! This is the Royal Academy of Music’s best teacher. Ingmar or whoever is nothing compared to him! Look, look, that guy’s face is all green from this jab, do you see?"
"Uh, senior, you should stop insulting him for your own safety."