A cool evening breeze drifted through the air.
Chen Yansen sat on the city wall near Tongfei Gate, his legs dangling freely as his gaze wandered toward Chunshen Square in the distance.
Elderly men gathered in small groups, fanning themselves as they played chess and chatted. Barefoot children ran across the grass, laughing freely. Near the center of the square, a shaved ice stall was surrounded by young people.
"Should I get two bowls?"
Wang Zihao followed Chen Yansen's line of sight and immediately locked onto the stall.
Crushed ice shaved into fine snow, drenched in fruit syrup, topped with raisins, hawthorn slices, and red bean paste—one bite was enough to chill you to the bone in summer.
Just thinking about it made Wang Zihao swallow hard.
"Get one for Meng Jie too," Chen Yansen said, snapping out of his thoughts. "She'll be here soon."
With the school term approaching and their impending departure from the small town they grew up in, Wang Zihao was feeling unusually sentimental and insisted on watching the sunset together.
Chen Yansen had found the idea ridiculous. Watching the sunset with another man? Absolutely not. That was why he'd dragged Meng Jie into it—she still owed him a bet, after all.
Wang Zihao happily agreed and ran downstairs.
Chen Yansen pulled out his phone and opened QQ. Instantly, notifications flooded the screen—group messages, friend requests, and alerts piling up one after another.
The groups he had pinned to the top all had over two hundred members.
Their names followed a uniform format:
"2010 Xucheng Academy – School of *** Freshman Exchange Group."
Information Engineering. Business. Literature and Media. Music.
Twelve groups in total.
Opening the group files, Chen Yansen found a meticulously organized PowerPoint:
Xucheng Academy Freshman Survival Guide.
Enrollment procedures. Campus maps. Dormitory conditions. Cafeterias. Libraries. Even reminders for military training—sunscreen, mosquito nets, insoles, water bottles, umbrellas.
Everything was included.
Every freshman in the groups assumed he was a sophomore or junior. Not a single person suspected he was a fellow freshman.
"My information-gathering skills haven't dulled at all," Chen Yansen chuckled.
He had collected data, compiled charts, and plastered the PPT with QQ group watermarks.
Not to help people.
But to make money.
His second fortune, to be precise.
"Beep beep beep—"
"@Group Owner Senior, I want the 39-yuan telecom plan. I've sent my info to your email."
"@Senior, does the 59-yuan plan really come with QQ VIP and Super Member?"
"Upstairs bro, of course it's real! Seniors don't lie!"
"Oops, sorry, accidentally sent a selfie…"
Chen Yansen casually skimmed the chat and replied with an OK emoji.
"Seniors don't lie," he muttered with a crooked smile. "But I'm not a senior."
The so-called package plans were nothing more than his 'upgraded' versions of last year's campus card deals.
In other words—completely made up.
As for how he planned to make it real?
With thousands of incoming freshmen's application details in his hands, was he worried about failing to secure agency rights from the local telecom provider?
Not in the slightest.