Guo Kaihua opened his mouth, a look of wanting to curse but holding back on his face, just staring at Jiang Jun.
Because just as he was about to curse Jiang Jun out, a bell rang, and the teacher for the class had already walked into the classroom.
The first class of the morning was taught by Professor Qin Hai. Based on his memories, Jiang Jun had an impression of Professor Qin Hai.
Back when school first started, on the very first day of classes, they had Professor Qin Hai’s class. As a result, Jiang Jun became the only student in the class to be late on that first day—and he was a full half-class late.
For the remaining half of the class, he spent it sleeping soundly at his desk.
Therefore, Jiang Jun left a particularly bad first impression in Professor Qin Hai’s eyes.
But you should know—who exactly is Professor Qin Hai?
He’s a founding figure of the Computer Science department. Not just at Harbor City University, but in the entire computer science field across China, Qin Hai is a top-tier professor held in high esteem by all.
Countless people would love to attend Professor Qin Hai’s lectures, and every time he teaches, other students always come to audit his class.
Moreover, Professor Qin Hai has another identity—he is Su Yanfei’s advisor, with a direct master-disciple relationship.
And Su Yanfei has not let down his expectations and guidance. As the top student in the Computer Science department, her qualification for the department’s postgraduate recommendation next semester is essentially a done deal.
“Jiang Jun?”
As soon as Qin Hai walked into the classroom, he spotted Jiang Jun sitting in the back row at the very last seat, and with a surprised expression, he walked over toward him.
After all, he was his own student, and there had been an unexpected incident at the start of the semester. Qin Hai looked Jiang Jun up and down and asked with concern, “I haven’t seen you for a month. How’s your recovery going?”
“Thank you for your concern, Professor Qin. I’m fine now—that’s why I’ve come back to school.” Jiang Jun replied with a polite smile.
“That’s good. Now that you’re back at school, you need to take your studies seriously. You’ve missed a month of classes, and the freshman curriculum is quite packed. If you fail any courses, it would be a serious problem.”
“Understood. Don’t worry, Professor Qin. There’s no way I’ll fail any courses, because I deeply understand the importance of catching up on my studies.”
Guo Kaihua: ?
Shuaige: ?
Li Jiaqian: …
Anyone else saying that would be fine, but coming from Jiang Jun’s mouth, it just felt weird—completely out of place.
Even Professor Qin Hai was quite surprised when he heard Jiang Jun say that, until he happened to glance at the test paper on his desk.
“Mmm~ That’s good.”
Qin Hai drew out his nasal tone, smiled and nodded at Jiang Jun, a satisfied expression appearing on his face.
Then, Professor Qin Hai picked up his textbook and walked to the podium. He looked around the classroom and smiled, “Alright, class, let’s begin.”
After Qin Hai went up to teach, Shuaige watched Jiang Jun open his textbook and study in a proper manner, and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
He looked at Jiang Jun and teased in a low voice with a smile, “Old Jiang, Professor Qin is already gone. In front of us, you don’t need to keep up the act. You’re so serious—you might even start believing it yourself.”
Jiang Jun glanced at him without saying a word, silently extending his finger in an international gesture.
Then he withdrew his gaze, picked up his pen, and began working on the test paper, occasionally glancing toward the podium—listening to the lecture and doing the test at the same time.
On the podium, Qin Hai deliberately took a few extra looks at Jiang Jun, keeping an eye on him. Seeing him listening so attentively and even taking notes, he felt immensely gratified.
This kid—after being seriously ill for over a month, he’s finally come to his senses after returning to school.
…
The full day of classes finally came to an end.
A Monday packed with classes is, for their freshman year, truly the most exhausting day of the week. And after classes end, quite a bit of homework is assigned as well.
Sure enough, by evening, in Dorm 406, except for Jiang Jun, the other three were all diligently doing their homework, each with a grim expression—their faces looking worse than the last.
“I’m done for!”
Shuaige leaned back fully in his chair, covering his face with an open textbook, and complained weakly, “Why do I feel like even in college, that sense of urgency from the college entrance exam is still chasing after me?”
“Nothing we can do about it—we’re still freshmen after all.”
Guo Kaihua glanced at him, took a big gulp of Fat Boy Happy Water, and said, “I heard it gets a bit better in sophomore year. By junior and senior year, there’ll be very few classes.”
At that moment.
Li Jiaqian, who had been working on problems, heard their conversation and lost all motivation to continue his homework.
He looked up and scanned the dorm, suddenly noticing that Jiang Jun wasn’t sitting at his desk doing homework. Instead, after taking a shower, he had gone straight to sit on his bed.
“Old Jiang, it’s still so early. What are you doing on your bed?”
Li Jiaqian suddenly broke into a lewd grin, and along with the other two, all looked up toward Jiang Jun’s direction, laughing, “Even if you want to do that, at least wait until later when the lights are off, or go to the bathroom, alright?”
Shuaige: “Exactly, no wonder I felt my bed shaking a few times just now.”
Jiang Jun: …?
“Listen up.”
He gave them a speechless look, then turned his phone’s volume all the way up.
The next second.
T-MI!
The familiar sound instantly echoed throughout the entire dorm room.
“6!”
“I knew you were faking it. Everyone’s rushing to finish their homework, but you? You come back to the dorm, take a shower, and start gaming.”
“Unless you call me ‘Daddy’ ten times tomorrow, there’s no way I’m letting you copy my homework!”
Hearing this, Jiang Jun looked at the three of them and let out a “heh heh” chuckle, then said calmly, “Don’t worry, my good grandsons. Real men never copy homework.”
Jiang Jun wasn’t lying to them.
After finishing one class, by the time the next one started, he’d already completed the previous class’s homework. And he’d even finished the after-class assignments Su Yanfei had given him long before.
Just some after-class homework—a piece of cake. Jiang Jun didn’t give it a second thought.
After opening the game, the moment Jiang Jun logged in and opened his friend list, he spotted a conspicuous and familiar name on the right side of the screen.
Caiwen Chicken Wrap (Su Yanfei – Senior Tutor)
Eternal Diamond
Ranked – Xiao Qiao, 17 minutes into the match
“6!”
“Why not call it ‘Anqila Shit’? That’s hilarious.”
Jiang Jun couldn’t help but laugh, especially when he saw Su Yanfei’s game ID and her rank—he nearly burst out laughing.
Then he looked at his own rank: Glorious King, 65 stars.
So this world of Huaxia had games like this too, and this game was practically identical to the one he’d played before—no real difference at all.
Jiang Jun stared at Su Yanfei’s game ID, mocking it for a good ten-plus seconds.
The next moment.
Su Yanfei’s match ended, and her status showed “In Party,” but by then her rank had updated:
Noble Platinum
“She actually lost?” Jiang Jun muttered under his breath.
Suddenly.
A small window popped up on the screen.
[Caiwen Chicken Wrap invites you to a 5v5 Ranked party]
[Accept]
He got into the room, but the match couldn’t start—the gap between their ranks was just too large.
Right after, in the party chat channel, Su Yanfei sent a message.
Caiwen Chicken Wrap: Junior Jiang, what did you promise me during the day?
Caiwen Chicken Wrap: Did you finish the homework I assigned you before coming online to game?
Caiwen Chicken Wrap: No wonder your fundamentals are so bad. With a game rank that high, you must be totally addicted.
Jiang Jun looked at the three consecutive messages from Su Yanfei on the screen and immediately leaned back against the wall.
Even through the screen, he could tell she was a bit irritable after losing that match and dropping rank.
Jiang Jun blinked, then shamelessly typed a reply.
Fifty Cents Per Match: Teacher Su, I’ve finished all the homework you assigned, so that’s why I came online to play
Fifty Cents Per Match: And my bad grades have nothing to do with gaming. Addicted? How could I be?
Fifty Cents Per Match: I play games every single day, and I’ve never felt addicted
Caiwen Chicken Wrap: ??