Day 1 of Freshman Boot Camp
Ye Chen stared at his phone, brow furrowed. A garish ad for "Beco a Billionaire on a $500 Salary!" had hijacked his screen. The ga's tagline scread: "Trillion-Dollar Subsidies! Buy Supercars for Pennies!"
He snorted. Another cash-grab mobile scam. Yet his thumb hovered over the download button. The August sun beat down rcilessly on the university's training field, where hundreds of olive-green-clad freshn wilted like stead dumplings. Their drill instructor was late, leaving Ye Chen's squad huddled under a sickly maple tree, phones in hand.
The ga's virtual store loaded. Three items glowed temptingly:
1. "Campus Belle Hydration Service" — $0.01
2. "Ferrari SF90 Stradale" — $0.02
3. "Lakeside ga-Mansion" — $0.03
Ridiculous. A real Ferrari SF90 cost 625,000. The lakeside villas in Jiangzhou started at 3 million. Yet here they were, priced like candy bars.
< SYSTEM ALERT >
"Only fools walk away from fortune. Confirm exit?"
Ye Chen's finger twitched. What's the harm? He tapped the cheapest option—strictly economical, of course. Not because the listing showed a pixelated girl with ani eyes and legs that defied gravity.
< PURCHASE CONFIRD >
"Your Campus Belle is en route!"
Two hours later, the squad resembled salted slugs. Drill Sergeant Wang had morphed into a human blowtorch, barking orders until even the tree's shadow seed to sweat.
"Anyone got water?" groaned Pudgy Li, tongue lapping at parched lips.
Negative murmurs rippled through the group.
"Pathetic." Zhou Haoran—class showoff and self-proclaid "Alpha Male"—strutted forward. His biceps strained against a uniform three sizes too small. "My girlfriend's bringing ice-cold Bai Sui Shan. Mineral water from sacred Tibetan glaciers."
A collective groan rose. Girlfriends were mythical creatures here—most freshn's romantic experience peaked at holding hands during high school physics lab.
Right on cue, a girl in cherry-red sneakers skipped onto the field. Zhou puffed his chest as she handed him a bottle, her acrylic nails glittering. "et Yuan Yuan—my personal hydration specialist."
The squad's envy was palpable. Even Ye Chen felt a twinge—until Zhou zeroed in on him.
"Ye Chen! No girlfriend? No water?" Zhou's grin showed all 32 teeth. "Guess so guys peak in high school."
Before Ye Chen could retort, the field fell silent.
A new figure materialized at the periter.
Sunlight fractured around her—a vision in ivory linen, raven hair cascading over shoulders like spilled ink. Her Louboutin stilettos clicked rhythmically across concrete, each step sending Zhou's glacier water sloshing nervously in its bottle.
"Su... Su Ningshuang?" soone whispered.
The na detonated like a grenade.
Pharmaceutical heiress. Dean's List prodigy. Campus legend who'd reportedly shut down a marriage proposal mid-lecture using only a raised eyebrow.
Yet here she stood, clutching a humble Nongfu Spring bottle, scanning the crowd with laser precision.
Zhou's smirk died as those glacier-blue eyes locked onto Ye Chen.
"Delivery for Ye Chen." Her voice could freeze magma. "Hydration protocol 3.7—optimal electrolyte balance for 35°C heat."
The plastic bottle hovered between them, condensation dripping like a trono. Forty smartphones clicked in unison.
Zhou's jaw hit concrete. Yuan Yuan quietly edged away.
Reviews
All reviews (0)