Time is like the last can of Coca-Cola:  
”I don’t think I can do this until I’ve finished it.”  
There’s no turning back now—  
—————— Excerpt from Hua Xin’s literary collection.

Today is October 9th, Thursday.  
One day remains until the welcome gala at Modu University.

——————————

When people hear the term “real-life fulfilled” (xian chong), they often assume it means having tons of friends, a vibrant social life, effortlessly smooth interpersonal relationships, and never lacking admirers of the opposite sex.

But nobody can be perfect all the time, right?

Being “fulfilled” in reality inevitably means lacking something elsewhere.

Just as God opened a door 🐯 for Hua Xin—but also let a cow 🐮 slip away.

Yet right now…

Beneath her mask, Hua Xin stood with a dark, jealous expression, glaring at Xia Yan on stage. All around her, cheers erupted and high-pitched squeals filled the air as if the crowd had fallen into some bizarre trance, chanting his name:

“Xia Yan, you’re so handsome!! 😍”  
“I never knew Yan-yan was not only great at sports and academics, but also an amazing singer! ❤️”  
“Can you sing it again? It was absolutely incredible!!! 🥰”  
“You’re definitely winning Best Solo Performance tomorrow! My idol!!”

As they shouted, several girls in pure white floral dresses even threw flower props onto the stage, then shyly dashed back to their seats, cheeks flushed pink, sneaking glances at Xia Yan.

Their lovestruck expressions were enough to infuriate any red-blooded male watching…

What makes Xia Yan so special anyway?! 😡

Those flower-throwing seniors seemed to have made a huge, dramatic decision—faces blushing furiously, stealing furtive looks at him.

Hua Xin, however, twitched slightly under her hood, as if struck by lightning halfway through.

Seriously… Have you never seen a guy before?

Is this really necessary?!

Sure, Xia Yan might be slightly better-looking, slightly more fit, slightly gentler in tone…

Uh…

And slightly more human-like in demeanor. 👿

Good singing? Pfft! I refuse to admit it! (Okay, fine—it was good…)

Hua Xin snorted coldly and muttered under her breath, “Terrible…”

Beside her, Mu Feng instinctively started to object: “I disa—”

But the moment he met the crimson glow of her eyes piercing through her hooded hair, his words died in his throat.

😨

Remembering that she held his secrets tightly in her grasp, Mu Feng instantly changed his tune with a perfectly neutral expression: “Gotta be honest with bros—Yan-ge still needs work.”

Xiang Guan, ever serene and seemingly detached from worldly desires, didn’t even register that “Xia Yan” was being discussed. He simply nodded along: “Agreed.”

Yet his grip on his phone was deathly tight—as if waiting for someone’s message—and his eyes never left the area beside the stage.

“Thank you all, senior sisters! I still have a lot to improve,” Xia Yan said warmly, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit. He gathered the flower props tossed onstage and walked over to return them personally.

“So gentle…”  
“So handsome…” ×10086

The girls standing close to him clearly wanted to say more, but when Lin Qingyu and an exceptionally sweet-looking girl stepped onto the stage next, they all fell silent and gave up.

It was obvious to everyone: over these past two days in the activity hall, Lin Qingyu had been the one constantly by Xia Yan’s side.

Sigh…

Who could compete? She was beautiful, well-proportioned, and came from a wealthy family.

Even if those two ended up together, nobody would object.  
(Except Hua Xin, who mentally screamed: “I OBJECT!”)

After all, they made a perfect match—beauty and talent combined. The rest could only hope to catch a glimpse during events like this.

“How was it? Not bad, right, bros?”  
Xia Yan casually removed his suit jacket and shirt, plopping down beside Hua Xin with a relaxed smile.

Mu Feng: “Dude, you’re absolutely legendary, Yan-ge.”  
Xiang Guan: “Of all the singers under heaven, only Xia Yan and Shower-Singing Xiang Guan are worthy.”  
Hua Xin: “….”

“Hua, what’s your take?” Xia Yan asked gently—the same warm tone as always.

But to Hua Xin, who’d already seen through his true nature, the question carried a very different subtext:

(If you don’t say something nice right now, I’ll expose you in front of everyone here. Think carefully—what should you say? Don’t play dumb. Speak nicely, or tomorrow you’ll be sleeping with the fishes in the Huangpu River. 😈)

😨😭  
(So scary! So scary! So scary! 😭😭)  
(He’s such a fake! Such a hypocrite! 🥺🥺)

Trembling slightly, Hua Xin stammered: “Hao… ting.” (“Good…”)

“It’s actually just okay,” Xia Yan replied modestly, unbuttoning his white shirt collar. “As long as nothing goes wrong tomorrow, I’ll count myself lucky.”

“By the way… Can you come out tomorrow night, Hua?”

“The gala’s supposed to run late, so I can definitely walk you home.”

“They’ve even hired a professional band—something called ‘Three-Handed Peony’?”

“Since it’s on the sports field, we can grab some snacks and enjoy the show slowly.”

“What do you think?”

Xia Yan asked softly, eyes shimmering with quiet anticipation.

Though he’d mentioned it before—and she’d already agreed—he wanted to lay out the details clearly, giving her the choice.

This was about taking a step forward into the world…  
On her own terms.

(You’re not backing out, right? Mu Feng and Xiang Guan are here, so I can’t threaten you openly. But don’t make me spell it out. Everyone’s watching. Don’t push your luck—or else. 👿…)  
(I’ve told you about the band and the food. After tomorrow’s “last meal,” we’ll settle things once and for all. If you please me, I’ll just tease you a little. 😋)

…

Why are Hua Xin’s eyes always brimming with tears?

“I’ll… come,” she said quietly, forcing down the lump in her throat.

“Great! Just tell me what you want to eat—I’ll get extra with Mu Feng and the others,” Xia Yan replied cheerfully.

His gaze dropped to her feet—now clad in pristine white shoes, no longer the ill-fitting ones from before. A sense of quiet satisfaction washed over him.

Her effort to dress well meant she was starting to care about how others saw her.

That was a good sign.

Though… the shoes looked a bit too small.

“My future is mine to decide…”

A sweet voice rang out from the stage, instantly snapping Xiang Guan out of his daze. He leapt to his feet, frantically snapping photos of the performer while muttering like a man possessed: “Xiao Ling, Xiao Ling, Xiao Ling…”—drool nearly dripping from his chin.

Mu Feng kicked him lightly in disgust, but Xiang Guan remained utterly unmoved.

Xia Yan’s eyes flickered as he watched Xiang Guan, a faint trace of online-level cunning surfacing beneath his calm exterior.

After returning from break, he hadn’t immediately dealt with the traitor in their midst.

Maintaining his reputation as a “real-life fulfilled” guy—along with harmonious relationships—was why he hadn’t rejected Lin Qingyu’s advances outright.

But…

That didn’t mean she had the right to turn his closest friend into a spy.

And betrayal always came with a price. 😈

“High-tier senior sister, huh?”

“Just wait till my wife and I meet up in person… 🥰”

“I’ll kiss her right in front of you at school and make you jealous to death. 😈”