Chen Zhi got out of the taxi and stood at the east gate of Peking University.
A light snow was falling. His left leg had just had the cast removed, and he walked with a slight limp on the thin layer of snow.
As soon as he stepped onto campus, a few students carrying books kept turning back to look at him.
“Hey, is that Chen Zhi?”
“Which Chen Zhi?”
“The one from Deep Space Tech! The founder of Moss! He just closed a Series B round a few days ago, valued at seventy-five billion dollars!”
“Holy crap, it really is him! Hasn’t he been on a leave of absence for months?”
Chen Zhi was something of a public figure now. That press conference, plus the livestream where he went head-to-head with the big tech companies, had plastered his face all over the internet. At Peking University especially, he was practically a living legend—a freshman who’d built a top-tier global unicorn as its CEO.
A guy in black-rimmed glasses walked up, a little excited. “Chen... hello, Chairman Chen!”
Chen Zhi stopped, tightened his coat, and smiled with a nod. “Hey there, classmate.”
“Chairman Chen, I’m a junior in the School of Information Science and Technology. I just submitted my resume to Deep Space yesterday! I hope I can work at your company after I graduate!” The guy’s tone was hyped.
“Nice,” Chen Zhi said, patting his shoulder. “Good luck with the interview. Looking forward to being colleagues.”
“Thanks, Chairman Chen! Is your leg okay now?”
“Almost healed. Thanks.”
Chen Zhi waved and kept walking. As he went, plenty of people stared, and some secretly pulled out their phones to take pictures. He didn’t cover his face—just let them snap away. The priority now was to go to Guanghua School of Management and find someone.
At the Guanghua management building, Chen Zhi went straight to the academic affairs office.
Four months ago, he’d jumped from the third floor of this very building, right in front of Teacher Zhang.
Chen Zhi knocked and walked in. Teacher Zhang was holding a thermos, drinking goji berry water. When he looked up and saw Chen Zhi, his hand twitched.
“Chen... Chen Zhi? Your leg’s better?” Teacher Zhang instinctively glanced at the nearby window, half-afraid the kid was going to free-fall again.
“Teacher Zhang, relax. No jumping today.” Chen Zhi pulled out a chair, sat down, and casually helped himself to a pack of high-end Chinese cigarettes on the desk, lighting one.
“You little shit... this is an office!” Teacher Zhang glared but didn’t actually stop him. After all, the guy in front of him was now worth tens of billions, and even the university president had to be polite.
“I’m looking for Pei Ningxue,” Chen Zhi said, blowing out a smoke ring. “She’s back from leave, right?”
“How did you know?” Teacher Zhang was startled. “She came in this morning to finish the paperwork for her return.”
“Where is she now?”
“Said she was going to the library to look up some materials.” Teacher Zhang pointed outside. “What do you want with her? Weren’t you two...”
“Family business, Teacher Zhang. Better not ask.” Chen Zhi stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and stood up. “Thanks.”
Watching Chen Zhi limp out, Teacher Zhang shook his head and muttered, “Kids these days... dating like it’s a war.”
Chen Zhi braved the snow and walked to the Peking University library.
Inside, the heat was on full blast, mixed with the smell of old books and paper. Chen Zhi scanned the first-floor hall but didn’t see her.
He climbed the stairs.
His left leg was weak, making every step difficult. Each movement sent a mild protest from his knee joint.
Third floor, reading room.
Chen Zhi pushed open the glass door, his gaze passing through rows of bookshelves until it landed on a corner by the window.
Pei Ningxue sat there.
She wore a cream-white turtleneck sweater under a camel-colored coat, her long hair casually pinned up. In front of her was a slim laptop, its screen crammed with Deep Space Tech’s quarterly financial data and overseas revenue reports.
Four months since he’d last seen her. She looked a bit thinner—her jawline sharper—but that cool, proud attitude hadn’t changed at all.
Her left hand propped up her chin, her right hand moved the mouse, and her brow was slightly furrowed, as if she wasn’t satisfied with some piece of data.
Chen Zhi stood behind the bookshelf and watched her for two minutes.
He didn’t rush over.
Those four months, she’d traveled all over—London, Edinburgh, Zurich, Sanya. She’d blocked him on WeChat, ignored his calls, and even returned 15% of her company shares and options.
But she’d secretly log into the company intranet to check accounts and reports, and she’d even had Old Zhao pass him offshore tax strategies in the dark.
Her mouth said they were done forever, but her actions told another story.
Just as he was about to walk over, a guy in a plaid shirt suddenly appeared.
He circled the table near Pei Ningxue three times.
Chen Zhi raised an eyebrow.
Guys in the Guanghua School really had no nerve.
On the fourth loop, the plaid shirt took a deep breath and stopped beside Pei Ningxue’s table.
“Hello, senior,” he said, his voice trembling.
Pei Ningxue was staring at a set of anomalous tax data calculations, her train of thought suddenly broken.
She frowned slightly, not even lifting her head.
“Something?”
The guy’s face turned red. He pointed to the empty seat next to her.
“Is this seat taken? There’s no room over there, so can I...”
“It’s taken,” Pei Ningxue cut him off flatly.
Her tone was crisp and dismissive.
The guy froze, not knowing whether to stay or leave. The chair beside her was empty, without even a backpack saving a spot.
He gritted his teeth and stepped half a step closer.
“Senior, I’m actually a sophomore in Business Administration. I saw you looking at financial reports—can we maybe add each other on WeChat to chat...”
Chen Zhi laughed to himself behind the bookshelf.
That pickup line was way too old.
He stepped out from behind the shelf.
“Sorry, man,” Chen Zhi said, walking up to the guy and tapping his shoulder.
The guy was waiting for Pei Ningxue’s reply and jumped when someone tapped him unexpectedly.
“She’s got a boyfriend,” Chen Zhi said, hands in his pockets, his tone casual.
The guy froze.
He stared at Chen Zhi’s face for three seconds and felt a flicker of recognition.
This face had been all over Peking University’s BBS and news headlines for the past few months.
The founder of Deep Space Tech.
The nineteen-year-old CEO worth a hundred billion after just one year.
The guy swallowed and stammered, “Chen... Chairman Chen?”
Chen Zhi nodded, pointing at Pei Ningxue.
“This is Deep Space Tech’s CFO. You want to talk financial reports with her?”
The color drained from the guy’s face instantly.
He stepped back, bowing repeatedly.
“Sorry, Chairman Chen! Sorry, senior! I didn’t know... I’m going now!”
With that, the guy turned and bolted.
Chen Zhi watched his retreating figure, then turned around.
Pei Ningxue finally looked up from the laptop screen.
Four months.
One hundred and twenty days.
Finally, the two of them were face-to-face in this reading room, filled with warmth and the smell of paper.
Pei Ningxue’s expression was grim.
She was already annoyed at having her train of thought broken.
Now, seeing the man who’d made her run away for four months, her mood hit rock bottom.
She stared at Chen Zhi for a few seconds, then quickly swept her eyes down to his left leg.
No crutches.
His posture was slightly unnatural.
Pei Ningxue quickly looked away, refocusing on the computer screen as her fingers continued gliding over the touchpad.
Just pretend you didn't see him.
Chen Zhi knew her too well.
The colder she acted, the more flustered she was inside.
He pulled out the chair the other male student had wanted to sit in and prepared to take a seat.
"Sorry, classmate." Pei Ningxue didn't even look up. "Someone's sitting next to me."
Chen Zhi paused mid-motion.
He looked down at her.
"There's not even a hair on this chair. Who's supposedly sitting here?"
"I said there's someone, so there is." Pei Ningxue typed a little harder. "Please go somewhere else."
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
saw a female celebrity tied up and stuffed in the trunk! Little did he know, countless cameras were aimed at him at this moment - this was a new type of reality show. The first randomly selected passerby was caught in less than an hour. But when Xu Moru was selected, things started to take an unexpected turn. "Damn, this isn't how the script goes. This Xu Moru is too bold, he's not following the rules at all." "Crap, is this guy taking it seriously?" "The female celebrity has been scared to tears!"
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
y came from. The chests contained supplies, currency, class-change scrolls, skills, talents… and even godhood! The laws of the world were completely rewritten. This became a world where everyone gambled with their fate! Some people, despite having nothing, opened a divine artifact and rose to the top, eventually ruling the world. Others went bankrupt, opened nothing but worthless junk, and leaped from skyscrapers in despair. Lin Ye arrived in this world from another reality, utterly bewildered. “What is going on? Why is everyone a gambling addict?!” “Opening chests? No way. I refuse to gamble. I’ll start with myself!” Until— On his first chest, he obtained a Mythic Talent: Void Incarnation! He could become completely intangible, pass through all things, and reduce everything to nothingness! … On his fiftieth chest, he obtained a Mythic Weapon: Blade of Karma! With a single slash, karma shattered, twisting the universe and overturning the myriad phenomena of creation! … On his ninety-ninth chest, he obtained a Mythic Divine Treasure: Primordial Purple Energy! It could split open the heavens and earth, create all things, and evolve countless worlds with a single thought! Lin Ye: “Now that I think about it… shouldn’t someone have told me that every chest is guaranteed to contain something Mythic?!”
