Four days of 8 a.m. classes, one day of 10 a.m.—this was their life for the whole semester. A true cause for celebration.
They say it takes 21 days to form a habit. Three weeks of military training and one week of early mornings had given Qi Xu a bad one—he couldn’t wake up unless he heard Xie Huai’s voice.
Xie Huai’s wake-up call was simple: “Qi Xu, get up.”
Not cold, not warm. Just… efficient.
And somehow, like a machine responding to a command, Qi Xu would actually get up.
He couldn’t figure it out. In his last life, he wasn’t a robot—how did he end up like this in this one?
He knew he had to kick the habit. Xie Huai wouldn’t always be in the dorm, and neither would he. What would happen then—start racking up tardies just because he didn’t hear that voice?
Campus life was dull. With a full course load, it was just dorm, lecture hall, cafeteria—day in, day out.
Thankfully, the start of the semester came with enough events to keep them going: club expos, orientation parties.
Not that any of it really involved Qi Xu. Just like in his past life, his college experience was relatively uneventful, smooth sailing all the way through.
Except… maybe something had shifted. Like a tightly wound ball of yarn suddenly rolling off course.
A host sign-up form landed in his hands out of nowhere.
“Xu-ge, fill it out. We’re all waiting on you to turn it in,” Li Yan reminded him as Qi Xu stared blankly at the form.
Qi Xu silently pushed the form toward Xie Huai. On the surface, he looked calm—but it was pretty obvious from his face that he was both reluctant and confused.
Xie Huai stopped the form mid-slide. “Snap out of it. You clearly didn’t hear a word the counselor just said at the class meeting.”
Qi Xu had spent half the session zoning out and the other half nodding off. None of it stuck.
“Isn’t this more your thing? Why would it even land on my plate?” In his last life, this sort of thing never happened to him—completely outside his comfort zone.
Xie Huai replied, “The whole class nominated you. This is just for sign-up. There’s an audition and a selection process after—no one’s saying you have to get picked.”
Qi Xu pushed back, “Well, I nominate you. So why aren’t you signing up?”
Xie Huai chuckled. Qi Xu clearly hadn’t woken up all the way—trying to wash his hands of it all with a hint of childish stubbornness.
“I’ve got duties in the student council. Can’t juggle both. But if you want, I’ll sign up with you.”
Xie Huai felt that Qi Xu had been drifting lately—not physically, but emotionally.
On the surface, he could chat casually with anyone. But dig deeper and you’d find nothing genuine. Ask him the name of someone in their class—after a whole month together—and he still wouldn’t remember.
Warm on the outside, cold on the inside. His version of treating everyone the same was being polite, detached, and just distant enough to feel guilt-free about not forming any real connections.
That kind of emotional detachment was exhausting—like it drained the energy right out of daily life.
Xie Huai didn’t try to change him outright. Instead, he chipped away at those unconscious habits in ways Qi Xu would tolerate.
Qi Xu glanced around the classroom. Almost every pair of eyes was on him. That’s when he remembered the topic of today’s class meeting—and it suddenly made sense why he was the center of attention.
He wasn’t opposed to participating. He just didn’t see it as his business, so he never reached for it.
But once it did fall into his lap, that rare, inconvenient sense of responsibility kicked in—and he couldn’t shrug it off.
Qi Xu had been alive for 28 years. He’d learned how to maintain the persona people expected from him. College was just a smaller version of society. As a grown adult, he planned to treat these next four years with the same quiet detachment.
He picked up a pen and casually filled in his name and major on the sign-up form. But he hesitated for a split second at the “height” section.
Under Xie Huai’s gaze, he wrote: 183 cm.
Seriously—why did his conscience only show up when it was least needed?
Once he handed in the form, the preliminary selection happened the very next day. The venue: another campus auditorium.
Qi Xu showed up in his usual hoodie and sweatpants, appearing like a shadow among a crowd of bright colors. In a rainbow of hopefuls, black was the most striking.
He found his name at the check-in desk, signed in, and accepted the number tag the staff handed him.
The entire 314 dorm had come out to support him, even dragging along the neighboring dorm. Half the class had nearly followed, but Li Yan had stopped them in the class group chat, warning that too big of a crowd would make Xu-ge nervous. He promised to livestream the whole thing instead.
The class’s culture and entertainment rep, Chen Xiaohua, was even more nervous than Qi Xu. She rushed over with a full bag of makeup supplies.
Qi Xu waved her off. “I’m allergic to a lot of products—can’t really use them.”
That excuse, first coined by Xie Huai, had now become a regular defense. Qi Xu simply hated the feeling of stuff on his face. And he didn’t like strangers touching him either.
Chen Xiaohua didn’t push. Instead, she said honestly, “You’ll still beat out 99% of people even without makeup.”
Li Yan asked with a grin, “And the other 1%?”
Chen Xiaohua glanced around and, not seeing the figure who usually stuck to Qi Xu like a shadow, said, “The remaining one percent is Xie Huai. There’s no way to vote for a winner between those two.”
Li Yan pressed on, “Come on, everyone has their preferences. You can’t be greedy. If you had to pick one?”
“It’s like eliminating two wrong answers on a test, and the remaining two are still impossible to choose between. What am I supposed to do—roll a dice?”
Chen Xiaohua’s blunt personality had everyone laughing.
The girls on set were touching up their makeup, the guys fixing their hair. Only Qi Xu sat quietly in his chair, listening to the conversation.
The young man sat with his head slightly down, hands resting casually on his legs, revealing a bracelet of sandalwood beads around his wrist. His slightly long bangs swayed as he moved. Now and then, he’d lift his head with a faint smile when he heard something funny.
Finally, someone noticed something was off. “Where’s Huai-ge? Why isn’t he with Xu-ge?”
Qi Xu: “…”
With a deadpan expression, he replied, “I’m me. He’s him. We each have our own lives. He doesn’t have to be by my side 24/7.”
“It’s just weird not seeing you two together. We’re used to getting a double visual treat. Now there’s only you—it feels off.”
Qi Xu rolled his eyes. “Want a photo of the two of us? You can stick it above your bed and get your daily double dose first thing in the morning.”
The guy actually took it seriously. “Sure! Autographed, please? I’ll get it framed. Once you two become corporate big shots, I can make a fortune off it.”
Feng Zhenjie laughed. “You’ve taken, what, like three finance classes? And already the businessman in you is showing.”
Xie Huai might’ve been missing, but someone unexpected showed up—Shen Zeyu.
Qi Xu met his eyes briefly from across the waiting area before looking away. Shen didn’t approach either, choosing instead to sit elsewhere with his friends.
Not knowing each other—that was ideal.
Qi Xu made it through the first round thanks to his looks and posture.
But in the final selection round the next day, his amateur attempt at reading from the script couldn’t hold up against all the trained broadcast majors. Showing emotion through the lines? That was like climbing a mountain.
He was more used to standing on stage with a straight face and selling dreams to employees.
To everyone’s surprise, it was Shen Zeyu who advanced to the next round.
Qi Xu stood on stage, expressionless, clapping for the list of names being read aloud. In his head, he was just happy that tomorrow’s 10 a.m. session meant he could sleep in until 9:45.
For him, this was just a class obligation. Whether or not he was selected didn’t matter.
Li Yan posted a video of Qi Xu reading on stage in the class group chat. A lot of people said he wasn’t cut out to be a host—he was more CEO material. Some even joked about reserving jobs with him four years down the line.
Qi Xu replied that he doesn’t do backdoor hiring, which stirred up more banter in the group, even drawing the counselor out of hiding.
There were no night classes for the next two evenings, and Xie Huai hadn’t shown up either night. Well, not entirely—he still came back to the dorm to sleep, but no one knew when.
On his way back to the dorm, Qi Xu got a call from Li Kaixing.
“Help meee—”
Qi Xu frowned and held the phone away from his ear. Only when Li Kaixing called his name did he bring it back.
“Qi-shao, I need backup. We’ve got a client who wants to play cards. I’m a pure 24k gold college student—I don’t touch gambling or anything shady. I haven’t even broken 100,000 points on Dou Dizhu. I’m scared.”
Qi Xu slowed down. “Where’s Zhong Aiming?”
Li Kaixing’s tone shifted a little. “He got forced to drink a few rounds. He’s puking in the bathroom right now.”
“Which client is it?” Qi Xu asked.
Li Kaixing moved to the hallway for air and sighed. “That one from Xunda, the one who made us revise our proposal like ten times. I’ve lost count of how many dinners we’ve had with him. He acts all buddy-buddy when he’s drunk, then becomes a nightmare client when he sobers up.”
Qi Xu checked the time—it wasn’t even nine yet. “Send me the address. I’ll head over.”
He told Li Yan, “I need to leave campus for a bit.”
Li Yan asked, “You coming back tonight?”
Without hesitation, Qi Xu nodded. “Yeah.”
After hanging up, Li Kaixing turned around and headed to the luxurious, gold-and-marble restroom to look for someone.
Zhong Aiming had only had a few drinks—not enough to be throwing up, but his cheeks were flushed from the alcohol.
He had taken off his glasses and was bent over the sink, splashing water on his face, trying to cool down.
Li Kaixing walked in to see him practically trying to drown himself under the faucet. He grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up. “Damn, if you can’t drink, then don’t. Who the hell blacks out after a few shots?”
In the mirror, Zhong Aiming looked a bit dazed. “Blacked out? What are you talking about? You think I’m drunk off that little bit of alcohol?”
Li Kaixing let go of him, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not drunk?”
Zhong Aiming reached out to turn off the tap, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his face. “My face just flushes easily, that’s all.”
“You could’ve said that earlier! I already called Qi-shao to come help.”
Zhong Aiming whipped his head around like someone had stepped on his tail. “Who told you to bother the young master?”
Li Kaixing flinched at his overreaction, suddenly unsure. “It’s just cards, not like we’re asking him to join the mob. He might actually be able to land the Xunda deal. I’ll take the drinks for him, no big deal.”
Right, most rich kids knew how to play cards. But Qi Xu… he wasn’t your average rich kid.
Zhong Aiming didn’t even dare imagine what kind of life their young master had lived in the past decade.
When Qi Xu had told him to join the startup, he’d thought it was some tiny studio. He hadn’t expected two full floors operating like a seasoned company, everything running smoothly and professionally.
The leadership? Just two people—Qi Xu and Li Kaixing, fresh out of college. Everyone else held titles like team lead or department head.
And the projects they handled were worth eight figures.
What shocked Zhong Aiming most was the young master’s investment instincts—never once had he made a bad call.
Officially, Qi Xu was his boss. But in truth, Zhong Aiming still took orders from Old Master Shen. When he reported the situation back, the old man simply replied that he no longer needed updates—just follow the young master from now on.
“The young master still has class tomorrow.”
Li Kaixing let out a surprised “What?”
“Wait—Qi-shao is still in college?”
“Freshman year,” Zhong Aiming replied.
Li Kaixing’s jaw dropped so far you could stuff a whole egg in his mouth. He’d assumed Qi Xu, like him, was a recent graduate. So that means Qi Xu had just finished his college entrance exams when he showed up with ten million to hire him?
How was that even possible?
When he was 18, he was still sneaking spicy snacks behind his mom’s back.
A fresh high school grad and a college senior—what a wild, naïve pairing. Yet somehow, they’d actually built a company together.
Well… Qi Xu clearly wasn’t your average high school grad.
Twenty minutes later, Qi Xu arrived at the capital’s largest entertainment complex—complete with KTV rooms, bars, and everything else imaginable.
Before he was 25, this was where Qi Xu often came to do business. That’s where he built up his alcohol tolerance. Later, as he climbed the ranks and became a VP, the places he frequented became more exclusive—upscale venues with minimum tabs in the seven figures.
Li Kaixing spotted him stepping out of a cab.
Such a down-to-earth young master… couldn’t he drive himself?
…Oh. Maybe he wasn’t even of legal driving age yet.
Qi Xu saw Li Kaixing and walked over with long strides. “Let’s go. Which room is it?”
Li Kaixing asked, “Qi-shao, are you even legal yet? Minors aren’t allowed in entertainment venues.”
Qi Xu didn’t even break stride. “Old enough to be your dad.”
Li Kaixing hurried to catch up. “You’ve got class at eight tomorrow, right? Maybe you should just head back. Zhong Aiming and I can handle it.”
“Class is at ten.” Qi Xu shot him a sideways glance. “Since when did you get so uptight?”
Li Kaixing looked like he was about to cry. “I only just found out today that you’re fresh out of high school. I shouldn’t be dragging the nation’s future down like this.”
Qi Xu wasn’t having it. “Cut it out. Save the sympathy act. Say one more word and I’ll come after you if I’m late to my ten a.m. tomorrow.”
They headed up to the private room at the bar. As soon as Li Kaixing opened the door, he noticed a shift in Qi Xu’s entire vibe.
Even in a hoodie, he carried himself like he was in a tailored suit—like he’d just stepped away from a boardroom negotiation.
The executive from Xunda, President Qin, saw the young man enter and assumed it was someone he’d ordered to come entertain him. He stared, eyes fixed—since when did Jin Hai have goods this fine?
That was, until Li Kaixing introduced him. “President Qin, this is our President Qi.”
Qin Sheng narrowed his eyes slightly, giving Qi Xu a once-over. He joked, “President Qi, what’s with the outfit?”
Qi Xu sat down with calm ease, smiling politely at Qin Sheng. “Ah, sorry about this, President Qin. I just dropped my girlfriend off at her school and got a little nostalgic—she insisted I dress more ‘youthful’ to match her.”
He sighed with a hint of helplessness, like he was humorously indulging a demanding girlfriend who didn’t even exist.
Li Kaixing: …
Legend.
At first, Qin Sheng was skeptical. But everything about Qi Xu—the way he spoke about the project, the effortless toasts, the playful banter with the girl at his side—screamed seasoned businessman.
Qi Xu leaned back on the sofa, one arm draped lazily behind the girl nestled beside him. She wore light makeup and had a fresh, innocent look, but his hand never actually touched her—it stayed on the backrest the whole time.
Meanwhile, Qin had a young man draped all over him, practically boneless, melting into his chest, while Qin’s hand casually gripped the curve of the boy’s lower back.
Zhong Aiming dealt the cards, briefly exchanging a glance with Qi Xu.
Qi Xu sat back, one leg crossed over the other, giving a subtle nod toward the girl, signaling her to draw his cards for him.
Qin Sheng chuckled. “President Qi doesn’t pick his own cards?”
Qi Xu glanced down at the girl. “Xin Xin, would you mind picking for me?”
With his handsome face and soft tone, the girl’s cheeks flushed pink. Her heart skipped a beat.
She nodded shyly. “Sure, I can.”
Li Kaixing, meanwhile, was busy nudging the person on his lap into a more photogenic position. Watching Qi Xu’s whole act, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was the one who was actually 18.
Qin Sheng gave a knowing smile and gently pushed the boy beside him away to draw his own cards—clearly not wanting anyone touching his hand.
As expected, Qin Sheng won the first round—and in style, too. He landed a royal flush.
Of course, they weren’t actually gambling. Just playing for fun. If they’d bet anything real, half the people in this room would be in jail right now.
Zhong Aiming had a sharp memory for cards. Qi Xu had given him a look earlier—tonight, Qin Sheng wasn’t going to lose a single round. Even if they let him “win,” his points wouldn’t go higher than Qin Sheng’s.
Li Kaixing was just there for show—if he won, great; if not, oh well.
After a few rounds, Qi Xu had already downed several drinks, all fed to him by Xin Xin. He never once lifted a hand himself, completely enjoying the pampering.
Qin Sheng joked, “President Qi, you’ve been losing all night. Still not planning to draw your own cards?”
Qi Xu shook his head with a lazy smile. “With a beauty in my arms, losing’s worth it.”
On the final round, Qi Xu’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a message from Xie Huai.
X:
Where are you?
FreeloadingUntilIDie:
Out.
X:
Specific location.
Meanwhile, the boy in Qin Sheng’s arms was now practically sitting on his lap, draped over his shoulder like he was made of jelly.
“Your girlfriend checking up on you?” Qin Sheng asked.
Qi Xu replied with a slight frown, clearly annoyed. “Clingy as hell.”
A far cry from the “sweet boyfriend reminiscing about campus life” image he sold earlier.
Qi Xu couldn’t remember the private room number, so he leaned over and whispered to Xin Xin, “What number is this room?”
Her ears tingled at his breath and she shyly nestled closer into his arms, whispering back, “Eight.”
Qi Xu tilted his head slightly to avoid getting too cozy, typed out a reply, and kept playing.
Dealing with someone like Qin Sheng wasn’t hard. Qi Xu had pegged him from the moment he walked in—a guy who lives for indulgence, cheating on his partner without batting an eye.
To handle that kind of person, you just had to out-degenerate him. Like the role Qi Xu was playing now: a man with a girlfriend who still flirted left and right without a hint of guilt.
Li Kaixing was too straightforward, and Zhong Aiming too proper—that’s why they’d had trouble with Qin Sheng.
In the last round, Qin Sheng hit another big win. The boy next to him cooed his congratulations and was rewarded with a boozy kiss.
Qin Sheng was clearly having the time of his life. He turned to Qi Xu and said, “President Qi, would you be free tomorrow at ten? We can finalize the contract details.”
There it was—get Qin Sheng in a good mood, and the deal followed.
Li Kaixing let out a tipsy hiccup, looking at Qi Xu with a new level of respect. With skills like that, you just know he’s the real deal.
Just as Qi Xu was about to answer, the door to the private room swung open, and cold air rushed in.
Li Kaixing turned at the sound. A man stood there in a simple short-sleeved button-down, his hand gripping the door handle so tightly the veins in his arm bulged. His face was calm, but his entire presence screamed danger.
His gaze scanned the room, stopping on each person for half a second, then landing on Qi Xu—and the girl in his arms.
Li Kaixing made eye contact with him and instantly sobered up a little.
Dude… who exactly are you here to catch cheating?
