How would Jiang Yi present his compensation?
Would he pull out cash from his wallet and throw it in her face?
Or hand her a card with the password?
Lin Zhiyan’s imagination ran wild.
But reality could sometimes be more absurd than fiction.
Jiang Yi simply glanced around, then stood up, casually grabbing the box of playing cards from the table and tossing it in front of her. He settled back onto the sofa, leaning against its back.
Lin Zhiyan: “…What does this mean?”
Jiang Yi replied, “These are made with gold foil and crushed gemstones. I believe it’s sufficient compensation.”
This was his old restroom from his frequent campus activities. The playing cards were a curiosity purchase from a year or two ago, but after acquiring them, he found them dull and left them here. If not for dragging her here today, he wouldn’t even have remembered them.
As he finished speaking, the person restraining her released their grip, seemingly giving her a chance to inspect the goods.
Lin Zhiyan: “…”
This was ridiculous. Was she being dismissed with a box of cards?
She picked up the surprisingly heavy box, drew out the cards, and swiftly shuffled them from one hand to the other, the motion fluid like a spring in motion. Golden glimmers flickered across her face, her dark eyes gleaming as she scrutinized each card.
…There did seem to be reflections of gold foil and gemstones, but the amount was hardly valuable. She’d rather he just threw a stack of cash at her. Seriously, less showing off, more spending, please.
Lin Zhiyan pondered.
Jiang Yi raised an eyebrow slightly. “You’re quite skilled.”
He was referring to her shuffling.
Lin Zhiyan finished shuffling and stuffed the cards directly into her pocket. “Learned it from a side job.”
Jiang Yi considered briefly. “Let’s begin.”
“Wait.” Lin Zhiyan kept her gaze on Jiang Yi. “The playing cards might cover my clothes, but what about emotional damages?”
“You can look up the price of this deck yourself.” Jiang Yi thought she was pushing her luck. “Don’t waste my time. Or do you also want to miss your own speech?”
“While I’d prefer not to skip it, it’s not that important to me.” Lin Zhiyan’s back remained straight, her posture unyielding even after being forced down, her eyes steady. “You said you wanted to see a demonstration, to understand how I fooled you. But the truth is, you felt mocked, your pride wounded, so you dragged me here and forced me into this humiliating position to make me submit, isn’t that right?”
“If you see it as humiliation, then it is.” Jiang Yi continued coolly, “I had someone bring you here because I was certain, based on your evasive answers, that you’d try to weasel your way out. To save us both time, the most efficient method was justified.”
“What a convenient method.” Lin Zhiyan’s eyes curved, her tear mole nestled in a mocking arc. “When you demand something from someone, there’s always a chance of refusal. But you couldn’t bear the thought of being rejected by someone you deem poor and cunning, could you? Your time and dignity are so precious that others must surrender theirs.”
“Correct.” Jiang Yi’s voice was icy. “So, how much for your dignity?”
“Not a single cent.” Lin Zhiyan replied calmly. “I want you.”
Jiang Yi lowered his gaze. “What?”
“You personally reenact the scene.”
Lin Zhiyan smiled, her eyes brimming with challenge.
Jiang Yi said, “Is this your retaliation?”
Lin Zhiyan answered, “Correct.”
Jiang Yi leaned in, his head tilting slightly as he studied her.
She held her ground, letting him look.
Though they weren’t close, he caught the faint scent of flowers on her—not the familiar fragrances of lilies, roses, or jasmine, but something wilder, like the untamed blooms of a field, delicate and fleeting, crushed underfoot or carried away by the wind.
The air between them grew taut, a tense silence stretching like a drawn bowstring.
Jiang Yi suddenly noticed a tiny mole hidden in her eyebrow, like an accidental dot from a hesitant brushstroke.
“My pride isn’t so easily wounded,” he said.
He raised his hand, and the person who had restrained her earlier understood, handing him scissors before stepping away.
Freed, Lin Zhiyan didn’t rush to stand. Instead, she sat cross-legged on the carpet, shrugged off her jacket, and extended her arm toward Jiang Yi. “Go ahead, assistant.”
Jiang Yi leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees, his shadow looming over her as the scent of his shower gel and a faint dampness enveloped her. He smirked, gripped her wrist, and pulled her closer. With the scissors, he began cutting away her sleeve.
The crisp snips of metal slicing through white fabric filled the air, revealing ivory skin inch by inch, each touch of cold steel sending shivers across her flesh.
Jiang Yi lifted the scissors slightly, careful not to let the metal graze her arm.
Soon, a sleeve segment fell away.
He picked up the armband, wrapped it around her arm, and fastened it. The warmth of her skin beneath his calloused fingers made her muscles tense. Unable to resist, he glanced up—her expression remained composed, lips pressed into a cool, unreadable line.
It occurred to him that his hands bore the roughness of years of training.
The thought slipped away as quickly as it came.
After securing the armband and protective gear, Jiang Yi stood and walked to the desk, watching her. Lin Zhiyan pushed herself up from the sofa, shaking out her numb legs before joining him.
The setup was identical to the interrogation room—same chair, same jacket draped over the back. Clearly, he’d been curious about how she’d pulled it off and had reconstructed the scene.
Jiang Yi said, “I assumed you palmed the protective gear when you stood, then planted it while distracting me. But at the time, I was certain your hands never moved.”
Her hands had rested on the table or the chair’s edge, occasionally folded across her chest.
Even if the gear was palm-sized, gripping it would’ve been noticeable.
“You didn’t see clearly,” Lin Zhiyan countered.
She reenacted the motion, circling Jiang Yi again.
This time, he turned with her.
And this time, he saw it—the protective gear slipping from the armband, her hand darting to catch it. She seated herself, one hand resting on the chair’s back.
Jiang Yi frowned. Had she dropped it into the jacket here?
But then he watched as she adjusted her position, fingers brushing the table’s edge, concealing the gear. With a swift motion, she swept it off the table, clamping it between her knees. Leaning back, her shoulder nudged the jacket open slightly, and her hand—still appearing to grip the chair—slipped the gear into the jacket’s pocket.
…Fluid, practiced.
But not flawless.
After a pause, Jiang Yi said, “If I’d stepped closer, it would’ve been obvious.”
Lin Zhiyan smiled. “But you wouldn’t.”
She stepped toward him then.
Jiang Yi stood motionless, watching her.
Lin Zhiyan said, "I have to believe you wouldn’t figure it out—that’s the only way I’d have the courage to do this. I don’t know what academic records mean to you, but I know even a single blemish could derail my future. If I’m caught, it’s just a heavier punishment. If not, I still have a sliver of hope to keep my spotless reputation."
Jiang Yi’s brows slowly furrowed. "If you’d been honest with me from the start, the penalty might’ve just been a few days of community service."
"I don’t know the rules," Lin Zhiyan countered, meeting his gaze, "but you never explained them to me either. Or maybe you couldn’t be bothered—to you, this is just some trivial little case where you’ve already cracked the truth. All you want is for me to confess."
Jiang Yi fell silent again.
After a moment, he admitted, "Yes."
"But the truth is, this isn’t trivial at all." Lin Zhiyan’s expression was eerily calm, as if her features might dissolve into the air. "For some, excellence is a bonus. For others, it’s a necessity. I’m on a full scholarship here, and even then, I can’t afford housing. Something like this, if it goes on my record, might cost me future scholarships."
She suddenly paused, as if realizing something, and arched a brow. "Oh, wait—I don’t even know if it would affect my record. All I know is that fear drives me to do whatever it takes to appear flawless, untouchable."
…Was she scared back then?
Jiang Yi wondered.
He lowered his eyes, studying her for just a few seconds. "It would go on your record, but it wouldn’t disqualify you from scholarships. That said, the deck of cards was a collector’s edition. It could’ve covered most of your expenses. And… I apologize for not explaining the consequences earlier."
Jiang Yi finally added, "I’m sorry."
He wasn’t good at apologies—the words came out stiff and awkward.
Lin Zhiyan suddenly laughed. "Check your pants pocket."
Jiang Yi froze, then instinctively reached into his pocket. "What—"
Before he could finish, his fingers brushed against a playing card.
Jiang Yi: "…"
For a split second, fury flashed across his face—he’d been played.
"I told you, you wouldn’t figure it out." Lin Zhiyan smiled, not mockingly, but with a hint of smug mischief. "By the way, I used to work as a magician’s assistant."
Well, being a card shark wasn’t that different from a magician’s assistant. Both made things appear and disappear.
Lin Zhiyan added, "My freshman speech is coming up. You promised to let me go after the demonstration."
Jiang Yi nodded, saying nothing else.
But as she reached the door, he spoke again. "What you said earlier—was it just a distraction, or was it real—"
"That doesn’t matter." Lin Zhiyan didn’t turn back, twisting the doorknob. "Whatever the answer is, it doesn’t change the fact that your apology was half-hearted."
Jiang Yi’s lips parted slightly.
Click—
The door shut behind her.
When he looked up, she was already gone.
Outside.
Lin Zhiyan had just closed the lounge door when she spotted a figure leaning against the opposite lounge entrance—a platinum-haired young man in a Military-Political Department uniform, arms crossed, idly scrolling through a terminal game. A sword hung at his waist.
…People like him were best avoided.
Lin Zhiyan kept her head down as she passed, but for some reason, she felt his gaze linger on her, sharp and predatory. She quickened her pace, only relaxing once she reached the auditorium.
This is insane. I’ve barely been here a week, and it feels like I’m walking through a minefield.
She had barely stepped into the auditorium when her name was called.
Lin Zhiyan took a deep breath and climbed the steps, her shoes thudding against the wooden stage. Below her stretched a sea of faces, flanked by rows of stern-faced professors in suits. Beyond them loomed the academy’s towering clocktower, cold and unyielding.
Bong—bong—bong—
The clock struck five, and a flock of white doves took flight.
"And that concludes my speech."
Lin Zhiyan stood at the podium, delivering her final line.
Applause erupted.
Her gaze swept over the front rows, where Jiang Yi sat clapping along. How absurd. The same person who dragged me out like a criminal now sits there, applauding as if nothing happened.
Jiang Yi met her eyes, but she looked away immediately. Then, gripping the microphone, she added smoothly, "Thank you all for listening. Today, I received a special gift—one I’d like to share with everyone here."
With a flick of her wrist, a playing card seemed to materialize from thin air in her hand.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Lin Zhiyan tossed the card aside, then flexed her fingers—suddenly, an entire deck fanned out in her palm. She discarded those too, twisting her wrist again. This time, a cascade of cards shimmered into existence, spilling from her grasp like liquid light.
The wind caught them, scattering the cards across the stage and into the audience. Glints of reflected light danced over her face, gilding even her hair in gold.
In under a minute, she’d "conjured" an entire deck, showering the auditorium in a spectacle of defiance.
Lin Zhiyan bowed and stepped down, her stride light and unbothered, as if she hadn’t just turned the ceremony into her stage.
Jiang Yi stared at the strewn cards, then lowered his eyes.
He knew this was her retaliation.
Right then, he realized how premature his earlier thought—Her pride isn’t so easily wounded—had been. Because now, his chest ached with something he couldn’t name: anger at being outplayed, frustration at her counterattack, or just sheer bewilderment.
She can’t even afford housing, yet she still pulls stunts like this.
Jiang Yi lingered a moment longer before leaving. This time, he didn’t take his jacket—leaving it, and the hidden card in its pocket, abandoned on the empty seat.
After the marathon of speeches came the evening gala, where pop stars and bands kept the energy high. Colored lights pulsed across the auditorium as students cheered, though some remained glued to their terminals, indifferent to the festivities.
On one screen, the United Military and Political Academy’s forum glowed brightly.
[United Military and Political Academy—Alumni Zone—Roundtable Discussion]
- Online users: 1,365
[Top Trending] 2XX5 Opening Ceremony Thread
[Mod: No spamming. Keep discussions relevant.]
[2L: Checking in!]
[98L: That Lit Department rep is gorgeous.]
[99L: Her magic trick was fire.]
【100L: How on earth did she do that? Using props? Is it difficult?】
【108L: There are tons of tutorials out there—just search for them. It’s not hard, but pulling it off as smoothly as she did? That’s probably next to impossible.】
【127L: Am I the only one who thinks this is pretentious?】
【128L: +1. District 16, suddenly performing after a speech? Yeah, we all know what’s up—she’s here to fish for sugar daddies.】
【130L: She’s the top scorer in the Literature Department this year. Does she even need to fish for sugar daddies?】
【131L: It’s ridiculous for someone with her grades to choose the Literature Department at the United Military and Political Academy. Should’ve gone for a practical major at a vocational uni if she wanted to make money. Unless her family’s loaded and just indulging her, what else is she here for? Planning to take the civil service exam after graduation?】
【132L: Hey, I’m right here! Hello? I said I’m the sugar daddy.】
【133L: So poor people can’t pursue academia now?】
【134L: You’re missing the point entirely.】
【149L: Did no one notice the playing cards she used for the magic trick were the ZuosioS limited-edition Golden Treasure deck? I’ve been stalking that set—resale’s gone up to over 200,000 star credits…】
【150L: 200,000? Even I’d hesitate to spend that much. Where’d she get the money?】
【151L: Probably knockoffs. District 16’s famous for counterfeits, lol.】
【152L: I suspect she leveraged her District 16 status to get in with lower scores.】
【153L: Or maybe someone’s backing her and polishing her image…】
【154L: Pure speculation without proof.】
【179L: Wonder how the runner-up feels about losing to someone from District 16?】
【180L: No idea about the runner-up, but his older brother’s definitely seething.】
【181L: Spill the tea!】
【182L: ZF. He’s been hyping up L for ages…】
【195L: LMAO, first it was sisters marrying into high society, now brothers teaming up for big ambitions?】
【196L: Decoded. That freshman’s in for a rough time.】
【This post has been flagged for violation and will be deleted. Countdown: 10】
The countdown ticked down slowly until, one by one, the replies vanished, the terminal screen returning to the homepage. Soon after, the device exited the internal forum interface and was slipped into a pocket by a pair of slender, well-defined hands—swift and silent, like a fish disappearing into the dark.
Lin Zhiyan remained oblivious to all of this. From an omniscient perspective, this was a good thing—she’d never know how close she’d once been to 200,000 star credits. All she knew was that the persona she’d crafted was flawless, and it would likely spare her some trouble from Jiang Yi in the future.
The world was a strange place. When you chased money, you often ended up with neither money nor respect. But when you sought respect, money would flood in—only to be used to buy the privilege of trampling on your dignity.
Sometimes, nobility was the passport, while baseness made for a better ID card.
Lin Zhiyan’s take? The most important thing was to have all your documents in order.
After the opening ceremony, there was a banquet.
Lin Zhiyan had planned to eat quickly and catch the last skyrail home, but she’d underestimated how much her new friend Ai Wen loved socializing. And so, what should’ve been a quick meal stretched into an eternity.
After weathering wave after wave of small talk, she heard the distant chime of the clock tower.
Great. The last skyrail was gone.
Now she’d have to transfer twice to get home.
Lin Zhiyan sighed. “Ai Wen, I really—”
“Miss Lin, Miss Ai Wen, hello.”
A gentle voice interrupted her.
Both Lin Zhiyan and Ai Wen turned, puzzled, only to see a tall young man with ash-gray hair tied back, a few strands framing his strikingly handsome face. He wore the gold-and-white uniform of the Wealth Management Department, the cut emphasizing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His ice-gray eyes were like clusters of fine needles, his demeanor aristocratic.
…Damn. Did everyone from the Central District go through genetic screening?
How were they all so ridiculously good-looking?
Lin Zhiyan enjoyed the view but was still confused. “And you are…?”
“Senior Zephyr?” Ai Wen gasped.
“No need for formalities. I’m Zephyr Solent, a third-year in the Wealth Management Department.” Zephyr seemed to read her puzzlement and added, “I approached you both because my younger brother is also in your department. But he’s quite introverted—he didn’t even attend the ceremony. Now the banquet’s almost over, and he still hasn’t met his classmates. I’m a bit worried.”
Zephyr’s smile was warm, his movements graceful, but his ice-gray eyes were so clear and cold that Lin Zhiyan couldn’t shake the feeling of something sinister lurking beneath his charm.
Ai Wen blinked. “Oh, right! There was someone missing from the roster.”
“Yes, my brother, Li Siheng.” Zephyr’s gaze settled on Lin Zhiyan, his eyes so transparent they seemed to hold her entire reflection. “He admires you. You outscored him by nearly twenty points on the entrance exam.”
With that, Zephyr turned and waved at the crowd, his tone light. “Siheng, come here. Say hello to… the top scorer.”
Lin Zhiyan: “…”
Fuck. That was so passive-aggressive.
What did she ever do to him?
First Jiang Yi, now these two brothers—were they treating her like a raid boss? Did they have some kind of shared HP mechanic where you had to kill them both at once, or they’d just heal each other?
Lin Zhiyan entertained the vicious thought.
