[ATM, Jiangcheng Commercial Bank, East Gate District, 12:14 PM]
Long Tian walked away from campus with a spring in his step.
The morning replayed in his mind like a highlight reel — Su Qingxue laughing at his jokes in the library, the way she leaned closer when he spoke, how she'd asked for his WeChat with a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.
And those emojis she'd sent afterward. Heart emojis. Blushing emojis. She was like a schoolgirl with a crush.
The campus belle. The goddess of Qinghua University. Texting HIM.
But he needed to confirm something first.
The system said 5,000 yuan had been deposited into his account as a cash bonus, a conquest reward. He'd seen the notification flash across his vision, but seeing wasn't the same as believing. Not until he held the money in his hands.
He found the nearest bank branch about two blocks from the east gate. Jiangcheng Commercial Bank — the local chain with branches on every street corner, the kind of bank that poor families and migrant workers used because the big national institutions wouldn't bother with accounts holding less than 10,000 yuan.
The ATM alcove was empty since everyone was out eating lunch. Long Tian's footsteps echoed slightly against the tile floor as he approached the machine.
He pulled out his bank card and turned it over in his fingers for a moment. The plastic was worn and scratched from years of use, the numbers on the front barely legible anymore.
He'd had this account since his part-time jobs and state subsidies required it when he was sixteen, a mandatory destination for his monthly stipend that barely covered instant noodles and bus fare. He had never had more than a few hundred yuan in it at any time.
His fingers found the familiar buttons automatically. Insert card. Enter PIN. Select "Check Balance."
The machine whirred and processed for what felt like an eternity before the screen flickered and displayed a number.
¥5,130.00
Long Tian stared at it, then blinked twice and stared again.
Five thousand one hundred thirty yuan.
His prior balance had been 130 yuan — he knew this with absolute certainty because he'd checked three days ago while calculating whether he could afford instant noodles for the rest of the week. That 130 yuan had been everything he owned in the world, representing maybe four days of survival if he skipped breakfast and lunch.
And now there was a 5 in front of it.
His finger hovered over the touchscreen for a moment before he selected the withdrawal option. 100 yuan.
The machine whirred again, and then five crisp 20-yuan notes slid out of the slot.
Long Tian took them with slightly trembling hands and held them up to the fluorescent light, counting them twice just to be sure. This was more cash than he usually carried in an entire month.
New balance: ¥5,030.00
"This is real," he said out loud, not caring if anyone heard him talking to himself in the empty alcove. "This is actually fucking real."
He pocketed the cash carefully, treating each bill like it might vanish if he wasn't gentle enough.
One hundred yuan.
It was enough for a week of meals. Enough for new socks without holes. Enough for all the small things he'd learned to live without.
The system had given him this — three hours with the campus belle, and suddenly he had more money than he'd ever seen in his account.
What would happen when he conquered all 3,000 heroines?
The number was too vast to comprehend, so he didn't try. One step at a time.
He stepped out of the alcove and headed toward the street food stalls near the east gate.
--------------------
[Street Food Stall, East Gate District, 12:20 PM]
On the way, he passed a trendy noodle chain where a single bowl cost 50 yuan. Through the glass windows, he could see rich kids sitting in air-conditioned comfort, laughing about things that didn't matter and complaining about problems that weren't real.
A girl glanced at him through the window, then looked again. Her eyes lingered with open curiosity.
That was new.
Usually people looked through him, past him, like he was part of the scenery. Just another poor student in worn clothes who didn't belong in their world.
But this girl was actually looking. At him. With interest.
He kept walking.
On the way to his usual spot, three more people smiled at him. A girl stepped aside to let him pass, then lingered to watch him go. A guy from his economics class nodded in greeting, the same guy who'd shouldered past him yesterday without a glance.
What's going on today?
But before he could think about it further, the street food stall appeared ahead with its grimy plastic stools and wobbly tables. The wok sizzled with oil that probably hadn't been changed in days.
Uncle Qiang looked up from his cooking and smiled — actually smiled, wide and genuine, like Long Tian was a nephew he hadn't seen in years.
"Xiao Tian! You're here!"
Long Tian paused mid-step.
What the hell? Since when do you call me "Xiao Tian," old man?
We've barely exchanged ten words in three months.
In three months of eating at this stall, Uncle Qiang had been polite but distant. Transactional. Take the order, cook the food, accept the money.
Once, Long Tian had been 2 yuan short, and Uncle Qiang had stared at him with visible annoyance before waving it off with obvious reluctance.
That was their relationship. Customer and vendor. Nothing more.
But today the old man was already reaching for the good noodles, the ones he saved for customers who tipped well.
"Sit, sit! The usual? You look tired, Xiao Tian. Studying too hard, eh?"
Since when do you care if I'm tired?
"I... yes. The usual."
He settled onto his regular stool and watched Uncle Qiang work. The old man was humming to himself while adding extra noodles to the bowl and selecting the plumpest quail eggs with care he'd never shown before.
"Add an extra skewer today," Long Tian said, testing the waters. "And iced tea instead of water."
Uncle Qiang didn't even blink. "Of course, of course! Celebrating something?"
The old man didn't hesitate this time. He didn't even raise an eyebrow.
Yesterday, ordering iced tea would have earned him a look — a silent calculation of whether this poor student could actually afford the 2 yuan extra. Yesterday, he would have felt the judgment radiating off the old man's weathered face.
But today? There was nothing but warmth.
"Something like that."
Uncle Qiang beamed and turned back to his wok. When he set the food down a few minutes later, Long Tian stared — four skewers instead of three, an extra portion of noodles, and the iced tea already opened for him.
"Eat well, Xiao Tian. A young man needs his strength."
Long Tian stared at the food. This was easily 25 yuan worth, and he'd only ordered 15.
"Uncle Qiang, this is too much—"
"Nonsense! You're a good customer. A good boy." The old man's chest puffed with pride. "Reminds me of my son, you know. He's a manager now at a textile factory in Beiyuan. Sends money home every month."
The corner of Long Tian's mouth twitched, but Uncle Qiang was too busy beaming with pride to notice.
"You must be proud," Long Tian said politely.
"Very proud! And you—" Uncle Qiang pointed at him with a greasy spatula, "—you'll do well too. I can tell. There's something special about you, Xiao Tian. Always thought so."
Always?
You barely looked at me yesterday. I've been eating here for three months and you've never once asked how I was doing. You never once even gave me extra food. Never once called me "good boy" or said I reminded you of your precious son.
But Long Tian didn't say any of that. He just smiled and thanked the old man.
He ate slowly, watching the world around him.
A group of rich students strolled past the stall, the type who usually walked by without a glance. But one of them looked at Long Tian and nodded — brief, but unmistakably respectful.
Long Tian returned the nod, letting a small smile settle on his face.
Yesterday, that kid wouldn't have even seen me.
This is how it should be. This is how it should always have been.
The old bitterness rose in his chest, familiar as breathing.
All those years of being ignored. Overlooked. Dismissed. Treated like I was nothing, like I didn't exist, like my presence was an inconvenience to everyone around me.
It was never because I was nothing. It was because THEY couldn't see. They were blind. Stupid. Too wrapped up in their comfortable little lives to recognize what was standing right in front of them.
But now they can see.
Now they finally understand.
He took another bite of noodles.
Where were you all when I was starving? When I was counting jiao for instant noodles? When I wore the same clothes for a week because laundry cost money I didn't have?
Where was this respect THEN?
He swallowed the bitterness down with his food.
No. It doesn't matter now. The past is past. What matters is that they see me NOW.
He pulled up the system interface discreetly:
--------------------
[Daily Summary - September 15th, Morning Session]
[Su Qingxue Affection: 61 → 65 (+4)]
[Conquest Points Earned: 900]
[Cash Bonus: ¥5,000]
[Performance Rating: EXCELLENT]
--------------------
This is just the beginning.
He finished his food and placed 20 yuan on the counter.
Uncle Qiang's eyes widened. "Xiao Tian! That's too much—"
"Keep it. It's for next time."
The words came out soft and gracious from Long Tian's lips, his smile never wavered at all.
I don't need your charity anymore, old man. I don't need anyone's charity.
From now on, I'm the one who gives.
The old man's weathered face crumpled with emotion, his eyes glistening. "You're a good boy, Xiao Tian. Your parents must be so proud."
Long Tian's smile tightened for just a fraction of a second.
No one was ever proud of me. Until now.
"Thank you, Uncle Qiang."
Long Tian walked away with 80 yuan in his pocket and 5,030 in the bank.
Behind him, Uncle Qiang watched with tears in his eyes, thinking what a good kid Long Tian was, how he'd always known there was something special about him.
Long Tian was already halfway down the street, moving along the sidewalk without a second glance.
--------------------
[Walking to Campus, 12:30 PM]
Long Tian pulled up the target list as he walked:
--------------------
[Available Targets - Level 1 Access]
[★★☆☆☆☆☆ Su Qingxue - The Campus Goddess (65) — IN PROGRESS]
[★☆☆☆☆☆☆ Zhang Yuting - The Class President (61)]
[★☆☆☆☆☆☆ Wang Xiaoling - The Coffee Shop Girl (61)]
[★☆☆☆☆☆☆ Liu Meimei - The Library Assistant (61)]
[★☆☆☆☆☆☆ Chen Ruolan - The Art Student (61)]
--------------------
His eyes focused on the second name.
Zhang Yuting. Heroine #2. Class president. Economics department. Shared his major.
--------------------
[Target: Zhang Yuting]
[Heroine Rank: #2]
[Affection: 61/100 (System Default)]
[Difficulty: Low]
[Personality: Diligent, responsible, perfectionist, secretly romantic]
[Background: Lower middle-class family, scholarship student]
[Current Location: Economics Building, Study Room 3]
[Optimal Approach: Academic connection → Personal rapport]
--------------------
She's at 61 and we've got the same major. A scholarship student too.
This should be easy.
Heh. It's barely past noon and I'm already on my way to the second heroine.
He walked toward the Economics Building with eighty yuan in his pocket and five thousand in the bank. A week ago, that would have seemed impossible. Now it was just the beginning.
He passed the upscale shops near the campus gate — the ones he used to avoid, the ones that made him feel small and poor and invisible.
He didn't feel invisible anymore.
Soon I'll have everything they have. And more.
The Economics Building rose ahead, all glass and steel and promise. Long Tian's pace quickened.
Now let's see if that bootlicker can keep up with me.
--------------------
[Economics Building, Study Room 3, 12:40 PM]
Study Room 3 had glass walls on three sides, and afternoon sunlight poured through them in warm slanted beams.
Long Tian paused in the hallway, watching through the glass.
Inside was one person. The target.
Zhang Yuting.
She sat alone at a corner desk, surrounded by textbooks and papers arranged with military precision. A crisp white blouse, dark slacks — professional casual, the kind of outfit that said "future executive" without trying too hard.
He studied her for a moment.
She wasn't stunning the way Su Qingxue was stunning. No devastating glamour, no heart-stopping beauty that made men forget how to breathe.
But there was something about her.
The way she held herself — shoulders back, posture perfect even when no one was watching. The focused crease between her brows as she read. The quick, efficient movements of her hands as she switched between highlighters.
Six of them, arranged in a precise row by color.
Her notes were covered in a complex color-coding system that probably made perfect sense to her and absolutely no one else.
Competent. Composed. She's definitely the kind of woman who doesn't need to be beautiful to command a room.
Long Tian straightened his collar and checked his reflection in the glass.
Okay, time to work.
--------------------
[Target Detected: Zhang Yuting]
[Affection: 61/100]
[Status: Receptive to approach]
[Recommendation: Natural conversation opener]
[Success Probability: High]
--------------------
Long Tian took a slow breath, let his shoulders relax, and pushed through the door.
The hinges were silent. The room smelled faintly of paper and dry-erase markers, and the soft hum of the air conditioning filled the quiet space.
Zhang Yuting looked up as he entered.
Her pen paused mid-stroke. For a moment, she just watched him — the golden hair catching the fluorescent light, the easy confidence in his stride — before her expression smoothed into something politely neutral.
He smiled at her like he'd already won something.
"Mind if I join you? All the other rooms are full."
They weren't, and the slight quirk of her eyebrow told him she knew it too.
But she gestured to the empty chair across from her anyway. "Sure. Go ahead."
"Thanks."
Long Tian settled into the seat and pulled out his economics textbook, setting it down without hurry. The [Gentleman's Courtesy] skill hummed quietly beneath his words, keeping his tone warm and non-threatening, naturally charming without being obvious.
He didn't push for conversation. He just opened his textbook and started reading, letting the silence do the work.
A minute passed. Then two.
She glanced at him once, then looked back at her notes. Glanced again. Looked away.
The third time, she lingered a beat too long.
He looked up and caught her eye with an easy smile.
"Your color-coding system is incredible. Do you actually remember which color means what?"
Zhang Yuting blinked, caught off guard, and then a genuine smile broke through her careful composure.
"Of course! Yellow is for key concepts, pink is formulas, green is examples, blue is—"
She stopped herself mid-sentence and laughed, a little embarrassed. "Sorry. People don't usually ask about that."
"No, I'm genuinely curious." Long Tian gestured at his own textbook with a rueful grin. "My notes look like a crime scene."
Zhang Yuting laughed again — warmer this time, more real — and then she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
--------------------
[Study Room 3, 12:55 PM – 1:40 PM]
The conversation flowed easier than he'd expected.
They started with macroeconomic theory and drifted into fiscal policy, then spent ten minutes picking apart Professor Wang's explanations — the ones that somehow made simple concepts twice as confusing.
Long Tian found himself actually engaging. Not just nodding along, not just saying the right things to seem smart. He was making real points, asking real questions, and she was listening.
When was the last time I talked to someone like this?
Zhang Yuting set down her highlighter and leaned back in her chair, studying him with new eyes.
"You really understand this stuff," she said. "Most people just memorize formulas and pray they pass the exam."
"I try." He gave a modest shrug. "You're clearly better though."
"Well, I do spend six hours a day studying..."
Long Tian's eyebrows rose. "Six hours? Really! That's dedication!"
She gave a soft laugh and shook her head. "More like family expectations. My cousin and I are practically sisters — we grew up together, spending holidays together, everything." A fond smile crossed her face. "She's always been the star of the family."
She paused, tapping her pen against the desk.
"I just want to show my parents their sacrifice meant something."
She glanced down at her notes, then back at him.
"And I want to stay by my cousin's side. We've done everything together since we were kids — same schools, same study sessions, same dreams. I wouldn't know what to do without her."
She let out a slight laugh. "It sounds silly when I say it out loud."
--------------------
[Zhang Yuting Affection: 61 → 62 (+1)]
--------------------
She opened up more after that.
Scholarship student. Lower middle-class family from a small town in the province. Everything riding on her grades — one failed exam could mean losing her funding, losing her future, going back to a life with no way out.
"And my cousin..." She paused, her fingers tracing the edge of her notebook. "She's always helped me, you know? Shared her notes, her tutors, everything. I want to be someone who can help her back someday. Not just the poor cousin tagging along."
Long Tian listened quietly, his textbook forgotten on the table.
He knew that weight. He'd carried it his whole life.
"I get it," Long Tian said, and he meant it. "Some of us don't have safety nets."
Something shifted in Zhang Yuting's expression. She tilted her head slightly, studying him like she was seeing him for the first time.
"Most guys here don't understand that," Zhang Yuting said softly. "They think everyone has backup plans."
"Most guys here have never worried about rent."
She held his gaze for a moment, then smiled.
Neither of them spoke. The air conditioning hummed softly overhead.
It should have been awkward.
Yet… it wasn't.
--------------------
[Zhang Yuting Affection: 62 → 63 (+1)]
--------------------
Her eye contact lingered longer. Small smiles appeared more frequently. She leaned forward when he talked, played with her pen when she was nervous, kept tucking the same strand of hair behind her ear.
She made a joke about their professor's obvious toupee.
The laugh came out before he could think about it.
Talking like this actually isn't that bad.
He let the thought pass and kept the conversation going.
By 1:20 PM, the textbooks lay forgotten between them.
They were talking about dreams now, about hometowns and futures, about what they wanted their lives to look like in ten years.
"I want to start my own company someday," she said, her eyes bright. "Something that actually helps people. Not just another company chasing profits."
"That's admirable."
"Most guys think it's naive."
"Most guys are idiots."
She laughed and looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
Two points in under an hour. And I'm barely even trying.
By 1:39 PM, she was explaining her favorite professor — animated and happy, gesturing with both hands as she described a lecture that had changed how she saw the world.
Long Tian found himself actually listening to her.
He wasn't calculating any angles. He wasn't even planning his next move.
He was just… there... present.
This is nice.
This is actually better than I expected.
Eighty-five yuan in his pocket. Five thousand and thirty in the bank. A beautiful, smart woman laughing at his jokes and blushing at his compliments.
Maybe the protagonist life isn't just about numbers—
--------------------
[DING!]
[⚠️WARNING ⚠️]
[Affection Fluctuation Detected]
[Target: Su Qingxue]
[Status: 65 → 64 (-1)]
--------------------
[1:40 PM]
The notification hit him mid-thought.
Long Tian blinked, his smile faltering for just a fraction of a second.
One point? That's probably nothing. Moods fluctuate all the time.
He dismissed it and turned back to Zhang Yuting.
"Sorry — what were you saying about Professor Chen?"
"Oh, I was just—" Zhang Yuting paused, tilting her head.
--------------------
[DING! DING!]
[⚠️ALERT⚠️]
[Target: Su Qingxue]
[Status: 64 → 62 (-2)]
[Rate: ACCELERATING]
--------------------
His smile faltered.
Two more points in twenty seconds?
"Long Tian?" Zhang Yuting tilted her head, concern flickering across her face. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I just—"
--------------------
[DING! DING! DING!]
[⚠️CRITICAL ALERT⚠️]
[Target: Su Qingxue]
[Status: 62 → 57 (-5)]
[Cause: Target experiencing intense emotional fixation]
[Fixation Subject: OBSTACLE (Lin Feng)]
[Rate: RAPID DECLINE]
[WARNING: Affection approaching unstable threshold!]
--------------------
Eight points. In less than a minute.
The color drained from his face. His hands gripped the edge of the table.
What the—
"Long Tian?" Zhang Yuting's voice seemed far away now. "Hey! Are you okay?"
--------------------
[Status: 57 → 52 (-5)]
[CRITICAL—IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED]
--------------------
Thirteen points.
His hands found the edge of the table and held on like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His knuckles turned white.
What the fuck is happening?
--------------------
[Status:52 → 44 (-8)]
[SYSTEM INFLUENCE CRITICALLY WEAKENED]
[DANGER: IMMINENT AFFECTION COLLAPSE]
[Cause: Target's mind completely dominated by Obstacle]
--------------------
Twenty-one points.
Gone.
All his morning progress. All those careful hours in the library. Every smile, every laugh, every blushing emoji — evaporating right in front of him.
Zhang Yuting reached for his arm, her eyes wide with fear.
"Long Tian, talk to me. What's wrong?"
But he couldn't hear her anymore.
All he could see was the number.
Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
What the fuck is happening?
--------------------
[END CHAPTER 11]