DTTM 37

Chapter 37: Nine Out of Ten Gambles End in Loss

“Hurry up, hurry up, don’t miss the press conference…”

“Almost done… Haha, you lowly commoner, this is what you deserve. Why don’t you look in the mirror? How can someone like you be worthy of going to the same school as us!”

Inside the locked toilet stall, a bucket of ice water was poured down from above, instantly soaking me.

This happened when I was 17.

Upon hearing the words “press conference,” I immediately recalled the corresponding memories in my mind.

Just a moment ago I was in Wuxi Chen’s mansion, how did I end up in the bathroom the moment I opened my eyes? Did I faint?

I tried to escape the dream and return to the real world, but my soul was trapped in the torrent of time, unable to interfere or struggle, only able to watch as it was pushed forward again and again.

I wiped my face and heard the footsteps outside gradually fading away. My 17 years old self tried to push the door open, but it was blocked.

I was used to this kind of thing. I took off my coat, stepped onto the toilet. Then I grabbed the top of the partition, took a deep breath, and pulled myself up. I nimbly flipped over and landed on the other side of the door in the blink of an eye.

My clothes and shoes were all wet, and I was really embarrassed to be seen like this. What was even more troublesome was that the terminal on my wrist was completely ruined due to water damage.

I braved the biting cold wind and returned to my dormitory. I quickly took a hot shower, changed into dry clothes, and then rushed to the academic conference center.

Because of my status as a Wo, I was constantly criticized during my studies at Shengzhe University. In this “pure-blooded” noble institution, the presence of a Wo brought neither innovation nor unity to the other students; instead, it became provocation and humiliation.

I was like a black bean in a rice field, so conspicuous that I didn’t even need to do anything special; just standing quietly will attract countless gazes.

Similar to the “attention” that public figures receive, I knew all too well that if I made even the slightest mistake, those who held such gazes would transform into vicious dogs triggered by a keyword, swarming and tearing at me. Therefore, throughout my university years, except for the initial period when I was naive and got a few perfect scores, I tried my best to minimize my presence, sleeping in class, getting the lowest grades in exams, and only doing what the elites considered the work of commoners.

My actions baffled Zong Yanlei. In his view, I was indeed a Wo, but I no longer belonged to that group; I was simply his private property. Since he owned me, I should do my best in everything and bring him honor.

Even when he was so sick that he couldn’t get out of bed and had to go home to recuperate, he still forced me to stay at school to attend classes.

As a result, once I was no longer under the protection of the Zong family, I became a sitting duck at school, the frequency of toilet and dormitory doors being locked and unable to be opened increased dramatically; I was “accidentally” bumped into from behind while walking; and even when I was eating in the cafeteria, someone would suddenly bring me insects and pebbles as “extra food”.

Among these bullies, the most persistent and tireless were Wuxi Chen’s faction.

When I first heard that he was also studying at Shengzhe University, I had a vague feeling that something was wrong. But then I thought, times have changed, and he was a year ahead of me and Zong Yanlei, so he wouldn’t go out of his way to cause us trouble.

Who would have thought that as he got older, he became even more cunning? He didn’t actually do anything himself, because there were always people eager to please him, trying to guess his thoughts and intentions, and fighting for him.

For example, those second-graders who locked me in the toilet that day.

However… fortunately, he only targeted me and didn’t recklessly provoke Zong Yanlei.

When I arrived at the academic conference center, the “Project Beyond the Century” press conference had already begun, and Prime Minister Wuxi Kunpeng of Penglai was giving a speech on stage. Accompanying him to the press conference were Princess Chu Luo and Wuxi Li, the chief press secretary of the royal family. The two sat in the center of the first row of the audience, and were frequently caught by the cameras. They were identically dignified and elegant, with typical noble bearing.

I kept staring at the big screen behind Wuxi Kunpeng, and finally when the camera panned back to the first row, I spotted Zong Yanlei sitting next to the princess.

That was his first day back at school after recovering from a serious illness.

He looked even thinner after a month apart, and the clothes that used to fit him looked loose on his nearly 1.9-meter-tall frame.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are standing on the precipice of our time. Whether we make a wrong step and suffer eternal damnation or seize the opportunity and rise with the wind, it all depends on a single thought… We must invest all our resources to build a revolutionary, immersive practice system that can directly connect with the future.”

Wuxi Kunpeng was fifty-six years old at the time, already in his twilight years, but thanks to his good health, he looked no more than forty. Wuxi Chen actually looked very much like his father, but anyone who saw him could tell at a glance who was the tiger and who was the cat.

“…’Project Beyond the Century’ is the first spark we’ve ignited towards the future. The old world’s conventions will eventually decay; what we aim to build is a boundless beacon of spirit and wisdom! We will use cutting-edge technology to open a magnificent door for the youth of Penglai, a door that leads directly to the future and fears no death!”

“Our investment will ultimately bring Penglai another century of prosperity!”

Wuxi Kunpeng’s powerful, and fluent speech was met with thunderous applause, and the media lights illuminated the area around the stage as if it were daytime. Afterwards, he invited Chu Luo to the stage as a representative of the royal family to unveil the metal plaque symbolizing the launch of the “Project Beyond the Century” together.

The so-called “Project Beyond the Century” was, in essence, a plan by Penglai to vigorously promote the neuro-navigation pods developed by the Sun God Group and forcibly incorporate it into the education system, industrial training, and even public service simulations.

With government backing, royal guarantees, and the launch taking place in a church setting, public concerns about the risks of the new technology would soon be dispelled, allowing for the large-scale deployment and penetration of the neuro-navigation module in the shortest possible time.

Subsequent events proved the plan to be remarkably successful. In just eight years, Penglai, using its neuro-navigation pods, created a unique “new world.”

After the speech and unveiling ceremony, the press conference came to an end. Wuxi Li took the stage to organize a media briefing, and there was nothing else for anyone else to do. The school then directed its staff to leave the venue.

Because I had to wait for Zong Yanlei, I had to walk against the flow of people, and was eventually stopped by the bodyguards five meters away.

After stepping down from the podium, Wuxi Kunpeng leaned over and spoke a few words to Zong Yanlei in the wheelchair at the front row. His expression was quite kind, and his eyes even held a hint of approval. However, when he straightened up and his gaze landed on the timid Wuxi Chen beside him, the smile on his face immediately faded, and he looked at him with a disappointed expression.

It was uncertain what he said to Wuxi Chen, but Chu Luo silently turned her face away, looking somewhat embarrassed, while Wuxi Chen’s expression immediately turned extremely awkward.

The princess and the prime minister quickly departed, surrounded by bodyguards. Wuxi Chen followed behind, glancing in Zong Yanlei’s direction before leaving. Despite the distance, I could see that glance was sinister and treacherous, exactly as it had been in the past, filled with unspeakable jealousy.

“Young Master!” As soon as they turned around, I watched their backs as they departed, then approached Zong Yanlei curiously and asked, “What did Prime Minister Wuxi say to you just now?”

Zong Yanlei did not answer my question. With a stern face, he continued to control his electric wheelchair and walk out of the venue.

I forced a smile, knowing I must have done something to upset this young master again. I hurried over and eagerly grasped the wheelchair handles, doing my part in any way I could.

“Young Master, I didn’t mean to be late or unreachable. I tripped and fell on the way, breaking my terminal and tearing my clothes. I had to go back to change, which is why I’m late. Did you send me a message?”

Cell phones were banned on the campus of Shengzhe University, and students solely relied on personal devices with extremely limited functionality for daily communication. In this situation, if a device was accidentally damaged, students were isolated, like being stranded on an information island, completely helpless.

“No,” Zong Yanlei denied. “If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. Do you expect me to force you to come?”

“How could that be? I came here on my own initiative. I haven’t seen you for a month, young master. I missed you terribly, so much so that I didn’t want to wait a moment longer and rushed here to see you.”

He remained silent for a long while after hearing this.

The winter afternoon sun was exceptionally warm, there was no wind, and the air was not damp, unlike a month ago when it rained continuously, the weather was cold and gloomy, and everyone was huddled together, making them most susceptible to illness.

“Sweet talk.” Upon reaching the steps, the person in the wheelchair spoke without warning, the voice so soft it was almost a sigh.

Knowing he was appeased, I smiled and said, “Every word comes from the heart, young master.”

On our way back to the dormitory, we ran into Professor Yi Yingzhen, who was on her way to class.

Professor Yi was over sixty years old, about the same age as my grandmother. She had shoulder-length silver-white curly hair and, as a bishop of the Jing Shi religion, always wore a red and white robe.

Whenever I saw her, I always thought of the white cat that often lay dozing at the entrance of the dormitory building, a round head, a short and chubby body, and the flesh on its chin swaying with its body when it walked, just like a jiggling jelly.

“Ah, Xiao Zong, you’re back.” She greeted us first, her eyes crinkling with laughter. “Xiao Jiang, you look very energetic today too.”

“Good afternoon, Professor Yi.”

“Good afternoon, Professor Yi.”

We greeted her in unison.

She was one of the few professors in the school who wouldn’t frown upon seeing me, and she was also the only professor who would call Zong Yanlei “Xiao Zong” and me “Xiao Jiang.” I found her very interesting.

“I’m praising you for taking good care of yourself.” She reached into her robe and pulled out a pink paper star, placing it in Zong Yanlei’s palm.

Then, she took out a light blue star and handed it to me: “I commend you… for being a friendly classmate.”

Paper stars were this professor’s unique reward system. She gave one star for doing a good job on homework, one star for answering a question correctly in class, and even one star if she saw you on the street and found you pleasing to the eye… Most students regarded her as an eccentric old lady and disliked these stars. But Zong Yanlei liked them very much and even collected them.

After giving out the stars, Professor Yi hurried off. I gave my star to Zong Yanlei and then continued pushing him towards the dormitory.

In the evening, I stepped out of the bathroom, still damp with sweat, and suddenly saw Zong Yanlei sitting quietly at his desk. He pulled open the drawer in front of him, took out a black fountain pen, and stared at it for a long time.

That was the fountain pen he usually used to write letters to the princess; it was lighter and had a smoother nib so that his hand wouldn’t hurt when he used it.

Naturally, I assumed he was going to write another letter.

“Are you writing a letter?”

I couldn’t figure out where he got this pure-heartedness from, since neither Zong Shen’an, Wuxi Li, nor his birth mother were affectionate people.

“Has it been a long time since I wrote a letter?” he asked, stroking the pen.

“Yes, I don’t think you’ve written one this year.”

His eyesight had already started to deteriorate, and he had difficulty even reading the words on the projector during class, let alone writing letters.

“The princess was always very happy to receive my previous letters, and she even asked you to pass on messages to me…”

I walked towards him, drying my hair. “Yes, she always keeps the letters safe. Didn’t the princess mention this when you saw her today?”

Lying is nothing more than being bold, meticulous, and having superb acting skills. Before solid evidence proves the lie has been exposed, not a single clue can be revealed.

Although Chu Luo and Zong Yanlei had met during the day, there were many people present, and given Zong Yanlei’s personality, he would never bring up the letters on his own initiative. As for Chu Luo… she had to consider the royal family’s reputation and wouldn’t say anything definitive to his face.

“Is that so?” Zong Yanlei gently swirled the fountain pen as he looked up at me. His body was increasingly growing frail, only his beautiful, bright eyes remained the same. “Then why did she say she had never received any of my letters? Where did all the letters go, into a dog’s belly?”

I stopped drying my hair and stared at him. His smile sent shivers down my spine.

“This is so strange, it shouldn’t be like this…”

Seeing that I was still trying to argue, the smile on his face vanished instantly: “You have some nerve, you even dare to lie to me.”

Haha, nine out of ten gambles end in loss. I knew it. You can’t pin your hopes on a nonexistent probability.