When Chen Yansen arrived at the School of Literature and Media's registration desk with his admission notice, his counselor, Guo Dongchen, was just about to pack up and leave.
"Freshman?""Chinese Language and Literature, or Journalism?"
Guo Dongchen paused, eyes sweeping Chen Yansen from head to toe.
The kid was empty-handed.No parents.No suitcase.Not even a backpack.
After a full day at the registration station, this was the first time he'd seen someone like this.
"Hello, Professor. Journalism," Chen Yansen replied calmly, handing over his documents.
Guo Dongchen froze for half a second.
In Chen Yansen's previous life, this man had only been their counselor for one year before passing his doctoral exams and heading to Beijing. They hadn't been particularly close, but seeing him again stirred faint memories.
Early thirties.Average build.Barely 1.7 meters tall.A blue striped shirt that made him look older than he was.
"Welcome to Xucheng Academy," Guo Dongchen said with a polite smile once he confirmed the paperwork. "I'm your advisor."
"Professor Guo, can I still register now?" Chen Yansen asked, gesturing toward the nearby staff desk.
"Of course. But the second-year volunteers have already gone home. How about this—I'll walk you to your dorm later. You can pick up your meal card at the cafeteria."
"No need," Chen Yansen said immediately. "I'm pretty familiar with the campus. I can manage on my own."
Guo Dongchen paused, then nodded."Alright."
He wasn't fond of trouble, nor of students who stood out too much. If not for registration day, he probably wouldn't have shown up at all.
Five minutes later, Chen Yansen completed the procedures and received his dorm assignment and bedding form. After a brief farewell, he turned and left.
As he walked away, a counselor from the neighboring Chinese Literature desk leaned over.
"Old Guo, your student's not ordinary."
Guo Dongchen frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You really don't know?" The man lowered his voice excitedly. "That kid snatched the campus telecom agency rights from Zhou Zekai of the Sports Academy. Been selling cards all day. Tens of thousands, at least."
"Zhou Zekai?" Guo Dongchen's eyes widened. "Didn't he get a major demerit last year for fighting? He didn't cause trouble?"
The other counselor laughed.
"That's the point. Your student drives an 800,000-yuan Mercedes E300. Zhou Zekai wouldn't dare touch him."
He paused, then added with a grin:
"One's a street thug.The other's a high-level thug wielding legal weapons."
Guo Dongchen shook his head, unease settling in his chest.
Meanwhile, Chen Yansen smoothly collected his meal card, bedding, and dragged his suitcase toward Dorm Building 8.
Room 8302.
Same as before.
The door was wide open. Inside, five seventeen- or eighteen-year-old boys were chatting loudly.
"The best zombie weapon is still a cannon. One shot and it's game over!"
"Games are boring. I played striker in high school—soccer gets girls. I'll take you guys sometime."
"I heard there's a monster freshman this year. Took the campus card agency from a third-year before school even started. Drives a Mercedes."
"No way. That's got to be bullshit."
Their chatter stopped when the sound of rolling suitcase wheels scraped across the floor.
Chen Yansen stepped in, scanning the six-person dorm. Bunk beds, desks underneath, balcony only—no private bathroom. The middle bed on the left was empty.
"Hey, you're our last roommate?"A man stood up immediately. "Tang Zhenzhe, from Luzhou."
Tang Zhenzhe dressed even louder than Chen Yansen—brown suit jacket, striped shirt, jeans, leather shoes, slicked-back hair. He looked more like a businessman than a student.
"Chen Yansen. Zhouzhou," Chen replied with a smile. "Come visit sometime—I'll treat you to beef soup."
"Wang Zhengqiang," another guy said quickly. Nearly 1.8 meters tall. "Same hometown. Please take care of me."
Former high school striker. In Chen Yansen's memory, he'd married early and lived a stable, quiet life.
"Zhu Xiaopeng. Luzhou."Dark-skinned, black-rimmed glasses, barely over 1.7 meters tall.
This was the one who'd later accuse Chen Yansen of "showing off."
The last two finally spoke.
"Song Yang. Nanjing."Thin, bookish, gold-rimmed glasses. Loved novels and games.
Quietest—but later the richest.
"Meng Xibo… call me Bobo."Socially awkward on the surface, sharp underneath. Already collecting gossip on day one.
After brief introductions, Chen Yansen started arranging his bed when his phone rang.
"Big Sister invited us to dinner. South Gate, tonight," Wang Zihao said.
Chen Yansen thought for a moment.
"This dorm doesn't even have a shower. I'll go back to the hotel first. You guys grab a table at Shuangqing—I'll be late."
He hung up.
"You heading out?" Tang Zhenzhe asked regretfully. "We were thinking of eating together…"
"Next time."
Chen Yansen patted his shoulder casually.
He pulled out a Mercedes key, tossed two sets of clothes into his bag, and walked out.
Silence.
"That key…" Song Yang said slowly. "Looks like a Mercedes."
Tang Zhenzhe shot to his feet.
"Wait—are you saying… the Mercedes guy… is him?"
Zhu Xiaopeng swallowed hard.
"I said he was acting cool earlier… he didn't hear that, right?"
No one answered.
Because suddenly, they all realized—
This wasn't a roommate they could casually talk about.
This was someone who didn't even flinch at third-year thugs.
And if he wanted trouble—
They wouldn't stand a chance.