Android Application Development Unveiled spans 515 pages. Excluding illustrations and source code files, it totals 220,000 words.
Chen Yansen read a page in just over ten seconds. He couldn't memorize everything word-for-word, but his brain processed information like a multitasking machine—receiving and comprehending simultaneously.
He retained over ninety percent of each page. Diagrams, annotations, everything.
In the latter half of the book, his reading speed only accelerated.
He finished the several-hundred-page volume in just over forty minutes.
But a new problem emerged.
The book covered a wide range of knowledge, and Chen Yansen—zero background, zero practical experience—was essentially force-feeding himself through sheer memory and comprehension. To build a proper logical framework and knowledge system, he needed supplementary texts to fill the gaps.
He stood, returned the book to its shelf, and pulled two more before heading back to his seat.
Android First Line of Code — packed with example code, beginner-friendly, starting from the basics.
Android Development Exploration — advanced material covering Activity launch modes, View drawing processes, memory management.
Chen Yansen flipped through them at breakneck speed.
To anyone watching, it looked like showing off.
Su Meiling was equally puzzled. She knew Chen Yansen well enough. The students at nearby tables weren't worth impressing, and as for her—Chen Yansen had never shown the slightest interest.
Flipping that fast. Can he really remember any of it?
It was Friday morning. The library wasn't crowded. Only Su Meiling noticed his strange behavior.
"Hey, Class Monitor Chen. What are you looking for?"
She assumed he was skimming for specific information—hence the rapid page-turning—so she walked over to greet him.
"Oh, Secretary Su. No class this morning?" Chen Yansen surfaced from his reading and offered a perfunctory reply.
"We're in the same class. You don't know whether I have class or not?"
Su Meiling sat down across from him and rolled her eyes.
"Haven't looked at the schedule. How would I know?" Chen Yansen set down his book, matter-of-fact.
Su Meiling was gentle, pretty. Today she wore a pleated fringed skirt, revealing a sliver of fair ankle. The beauty mark at the corner of her eye gave her face something distinctive.
No wonder Tang Zhenzhe couldn't get over her.
A girl like that—knowledgeable, reasonable, generous. Marry her and your family would be set for three generations.
Unfortunately, Chen Yansen wasn't interested in this type. He didn't bother.
"You have the nerve to say that." Su Meiling pursed her lips, almost laughing.
A student skipping class as shamelessly as Chen Yansen was probably unprecedented in Xucheng Academy's history.
"If there's nothing else, I'll get back to my reading." Chen Yansen waved a hand, smiling.
Please leave. The implication was clear.
Su Meiling blinked, caught off guard.
Boys usually fawned over her. Flattered her. Chen Yansen's outright dismissal surprised her—she froze for a moment.
But he had already lowered his head and resumed flipping pages.
Seeing that he wasn't going to speak to her again, Su Meiling left the library in a huff. If she stayed any longer, looking at his face, she might actually lose her temper.
Just then, Tang Zhenzhe sent her a message, inviting her to see the newly released film Don't Go Breaking My Heart.
Still annoyed, Su Meiling rejected him without hesitation.
"Class monitor, I really don't like guys like you."
Tang Zhenzhe stared at the reply.
A loud "Aww" escaped him. He burrowed back into his blankets and wept openly.
Fortunately, he was alone in Room 8302. No one to save face for.
Chen Yansen finished three books in one sitting at the library, then pulled six more from the shelves, checked them out, and headed to the startup park.
This efficient learning method fascinated him. It was like playing a game—instant feedback, massive gains.
He reached the second floor, dropped off his books, and noticed Wang Zihao wasn't at his desk. He went to the cafeteria alone.
No sooner had he left than Song Yuncheng returned. She froze at the sight of the towering stack of books on the opposite table.
She had never seen Chen Yansen study before.
Curious, she walked over and glanced through them. Aside from a CET-4/6 vocabulary book, the rest were all technical texts—computer science, system development.
"Sister Yuncheng, want to grab lunch together?"
Xu Xingxing appeared beside her with a smile, Du Yaoyao from the editorial team in tow.
"Sure." Song Yuncheng smiled, and the three headed downstairs.
After lunch, Chen Yansen returned to the second floor and picked up Thinking in Java.
By the time Song Yuncheng got back, he was already on Core Java. The questions that had nagged him while reading Android Application Development Unveiled that morning were being answered, one by one, in these pages.
Seeing him flip through books like he was counting banknotes, Song Yuncheng couldn't help but tease.
"Boss, did you hide money in there? Why are you so diligent?"
Chen Yansen glanced at her. "Yes. Money and your photo."
"How could you possibly have my photo?" she retorted instinctively, knowing he was joking.
He smiled faintly and ignored her, reading through the afternoon.
During a break, he went through the entire CET-4/6 vocabulary list. Unlike in his past life, he didn't get stuck on abandon. He memorized the whole book in one go.
His English had previously been limited to basic communication—asking someone to change positions, that sort of thing. Now, with the ability to absorb a new language effortlessly, he was more than willing to put in the work.
Before five o'clock, he had finished six books.
With nothing else to do, he found an original, unsubbed version of Titanic and watched it again.
His brain worked like a scalpel, dissecting the lines, intonations, speech rhythms, and pronunciations of every character—male lead, female lead, supporting cast. Layer by layer, extracting the essence.
Rose's pronunciation leaned toward standard British English. Jack's was more Midwestern American.
Chen Yansen murmured along, replicating the original voices with ease. His superhuman physical and mental faculties made it almost effortless.
By the end of the film, he could retrieve words, phrases, and idioms from memory, arranging them according to native grammatical habits. Not quite fluent—but dozens of times better than his previous self.
He estimated that within a week, at most, he could communicate with native speakers using near-authentic language patterns.
A new language in a week.
Earlier, he had wondered if investing nearly five hundred strands of Flames of Humanity into his Spirit attribute had yielded any tangible benefit. Now, he felt he had made out like a bandit.
If not for the sake of his future happiness, he should have maxed out Spirit ages ago.
He had been reading all day—absorbing over two million bytes of text, charts, example images—yet he felt no fatigue.
"Tomorrow, then."
Chen Yansen stretched, glanced around, and beckoned to Wang Zihao. They went downstairs, picked up Wang Teng, and headed out for dinner.
Wang Teng had been at Xucheng Academy for half a month now. Adapted to life and work. Spending all his time on campus had brought back the comfort of his university days.
On the way, Chen Yansen casually asked him to recommend some system development books. After a day of reading, he had noticed that most of the library's stock was several years old—outdated.
Wang Teng, though curious, didn't press. Instead, he recommended different texts on design patterns, programming languages, and practical applications.
"Brother Sen, are you really planning to learn system development?" Wang Zihao asked, half-smiling.
"Just learning the basics. I need to understand the principles. Otherwise, when Aurora OS launches, I won't even be able to explain the product properly. They'll laugh me out of the room."
Chen Yansen's tone was calm.
He had no intention of becoming a cautionary tale—an 18,000-horsepower disaster.
Wang Zihao nodded to himself. I should probably brush up on some R&D basics too. Wouldn't want to embarrass Brother Sen.
After dinner, the three returned to the startup park together. Chen Yansen grabbed a few books and headed straight for the library.
He returned the old ones. Checked out six new ones.
As for the books Wang Teng had recommended—he had already ordered them on JD.com. Over the past six months, JD had been slashing book prices to cost, using the category as a low-cost user acquisition channel.
Since they were all legitimate copies, Chen Yansen naturally chose the cheaper option.
Li Guoqing of Dangdang hadn't expected Liu Qiangdong to target such a niche category—books, a market worth less than ten billion annually. The two had since fallen out.
The business world was only so big. When vital interests were at stake, even the closest relationships could fracture.
Chen Yansen carried his books back to the faculty apartments.
As he reached the fourth floor, he saw Meng Jie standing by the corridor.
She wore a light blue sundress. Cool moonlight caught her face—fair skin, pretty eyes. But she didn't look happy.
He realized then: he had been busy lately. The last time they met was half a month ago. They kept in touch on WeChat, but to anyone unaware, they might as well have been in a long-distance relationship.
Meng Jie—new to romance—couldn't bear the sudden distance. Her disappointed, melancholic expression had been interpreted by her roommate as a classic case of heartbreak.
Under her roommate's relentless questioning, she had blushed and admitted that she and Chen Yansen had only ever kissed and hugged. Nothing more.
"Then it's normal he's not contacting you. Boys are all the same—driven by lust. If you won't give in, and Chen Yansen's as outstanding as he is, plenty of girls are chasing after him. You'd better be careful."
Her roommate's words had lodged in her chest like a splinter.
She hadn't thought much of it before. Still, she had dressed carefully tonight—a white lace petticoat beneath her skirt, clinging to her fair legs.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Meng Jie turned sharply to look at Chen Yansen.
Her eyes held hesitation. And grievance.