UCS Chapter 134

Chapter 134

 

“Hey, don’t you think it’s getting colder lately?”

 

“A late-spring cold snap? You should bundle up. I heard someone froze to death a while back—that guy who used to stay under the bridge.”

 

“My god, people still freeze to death these days?”

 

“Yeah. It feels like something that happens far away from us, but I heard the government has already made arrangements; all the homeless people have been taken into temporary shelters.”

 

“We had shelters in winter before, too, but who would’ve thought this year’s late-spring chill would be so brutal? Sigh…”

 

“Speaking of which, is there a class from the Information Technology next?”

 

“Right! Hurry, hurry! Large Lecture Hall 302 in Zone G! If we’re late, there won’t be any seats left!”

 

“Wait, wait—I was on leave for a bit. Why are you guys crashing an IT class? Aren’t you going to write your lab reports?”

 

“Oh, come on! It’s the new campus heartthrob, Zhang Xu! You’ll see when you get there!”

 

“Zhang Xu? Isn’t it Gao Gusheng?”

 

“Well… it’s different, somehow. You’ll understand once you see him.”

 

The classmate beside them suddenly quickened their pace. Yun Zhiyi nudged Gao Gusheng. “Xiao Sheng, someone’s snatched your title as the campus heartthrob. How about it—want to sign up for next week’s event and show off a bit?”

 

Gao Gusheng was speechless. “Thank goodness that title went to him instead of me.”

 

He had once stumbled upon a dedicated thread about himself on the school forum, only to beat a hasty retreat, shielding his eyes from the blinding glare.

 

The entire thread was filled with comments like “(screaming) (crawling in the shadows) (writhing and squirming)” and “Yes, yes! [Heart] What do I do? I’ve turned into a little fool who can’t function without Classmate Gao [Heart][Heart].”

 

There were both men and women involved, and their usernames followed a uniform pattern—things like “Classmate Gao’s Panties” or “Classmate Gao’s Dog.”

 

An outsider might have mistaken it for some sort of cult ritual.

 

That wasn’t the worst of it; at least these fans kept their fervor to the internet and never interfered with his real life. In fact, many who were so vocal online would blush and run away the moment he glanced at them in person. What Gao Gusheng found truly unacceptable, however, was that—despite being a young man standing 1.79 meters tall—he was described in comments as “sunny and wholesome, yet making one want to ruin him.”

 

That particular comment had garnered four or five thousand likes.

 

Of course, there was no shortage of “girlfriend-style” fans—people who swooned over his “boyfriend energy” or begged him to “pin them down”—though the actual genders of these fans varied.

 

Gao Gusheng had even received some bizarre selfies—photos of bare legs in white socks, for instance.

 

Seeing him like this, Yun Zhiyi tossed her ponytail and declared, “Go get ’em! You have to take back everything that was stolen from you!”

 

Gao Gusheng wailed, “Sister Yun, have mercy on me!”

 

Yun Zhiyi laughed and scolded him, “Oh, get lost, you lazy slacker with zero ambition. Thank goodness I’m not actually a fan of yours; otherwise, you’d drive me to an early grave.”

 

She laughed, but as she glanced toward Zone G, a faint frown appeared on her face.

 

Her intuition told her to steer clear of Zhang Xu.

 

Zhang Xu had been back at campus for barely two weeks, yet he had already taken the campus by storm; word of his reputation had even spread to neighboring schools, with students making special trips just to catch a glimpse of him. Although Gao Gusheng boasted top-tier academic results, impressive physical prowess, and striking good looks, his low-profile nature meant he was quickly overshadowed by Zhang Xu.

 

Word had it that Zhang Xu had founded his own company and was preparing to take it public in a mere two weeks—an absolutely preposterous notion.

 

Anyone with a family business background who heard the news initially dismissed it as a joke.

 

It was as unbelievable as the men’s national football team winning a championship.

 

Yet, Zhang Xu had actually pulled it off.

 

Everyone felt as though they were dreaming; one executive even slapped himself hard upon returning home, convinced he was still asleep.

 

It wasn’t merely a question of capability; in just two weeks, one could barely complete the necessary administrative procedures, let alone launch an IPO.

 

It was as if everything had been fast-forwarded—he had accomplished in half a month what took other companies a year, five years, or even over a decade.

 

Was Zhang Xu actually the scion of a powerful family out gaining experience, handed a company ready for IPO just to boost his prestige?

 

Or had he perhaps inherited a massive fortune from an overseas relative?

 

Speculation abounded, yet no one had a definitive answer; meanwhile, Zhang Xu’s reputation continued to soar, becoming increasingly prominent.

 

His fame eclipsed Gao Gusheng’s; everyone was talking about Zhang Xu, and Gao Gusheng’s name was rarely heard anymore.

 

Even on the forums, only a handful of die-hard fans continued to update threads dedicated to Gao Gusheng.

 

It felt just like a “Mary Sue” protagonist from another world stepping in to steal the spotlight from the original story’s hero.

 

Yun Zhiyi disliked the feeling.

 

Gao Gusheng, however, was unbothered; managing his company kept him fully occupied, leaving him no energy to spare for anyone else. After all, his friends hadn’t been affected.

 

Yet, just as that thought crossed his mind, he turned the corner and saw Zhang Xu.

 

Zhang Xu was standing right there, answering a question for a classmate who had come to seek his help.

 

And that classmate was…

 

“Glasses?”

 

Yun Zhiyi blurted out in disbelief.

 

Zhou Jing looked up, instinctively pursing his lips.

 

Zhang Xu glanced over at Yun Zhiyi and Gao Gusheng; although a patient smile played on his lips, there was an indefinable air of detachment in his expression.

 

Gao Gusheng gave a tight, insincere smile. “Senior.”

 

Yun Zhiyi strode over to Zhou Jing’s side, subtly shielding him. “Glasses, what are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to go help a teacher during the next period?”

 

Zhou Jing hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something; he started to reach up to adjust his glasses but lowered his hand again.

 

Zhang Xu lightly tapped the cover of the finance textbook he was holding and stepped in to smooth things over. “Zhou had some questions to ask me.”

 

He nodded. “I have another class to get to, so I’ll be going now.”

 

Yun Zhiyi frowned slightly as he watched Zhang Xu walk away.

 

Once Zhang Xu was out of sight, Yun Zhiyi patted Zhou Jing on the shoulder and asked, “Glasses, why didn’t you ask Xiaosheng or me about your finance questions? There’s something off about Zhang Xu—it’s best to stay away from him until we know for sure.”

 

Zhou Jing gave a quiet murmur of agreement. Gao Gusheng cast a thoughtful glance at Zhou Jing, then draped his arm around Zhou Jing’s neck and smiled. “What is it? Too close to ask? Afraid the guys would tease you? Hey, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses; if you asked me to tackle that math of yours, I’d be just as lost.”

 

Zhou Jing adjusted his glasses. “…Right.”

 

Zhou Jing had to go help a teacher next, while Gao Gusheng and Yun Zhiyi prepared to pick up Sun Jun.

 

Sun Jun had just returned from a small exhibition she’d attended with Wu Qin.

 

Yun Zhiyi bought some milk tea and handed a cup to Gao Gusheng. She took a couple of sips, but her mood didn’t lift along with the sweetness of the drink.

 

“Xiao Sheng, ‘Glasses’ was acting a bit strange today.”

 

Gao Gusheng took a big gulp, too, squinting contentedly. “He was, but I think I’ve guessed the reason.”

 

He held up three fingers and waved them in front of Yun Zhiyi. “Possibility number one: you know what kind of terrifying charisma Zhang Xu has—maybe Zhou Jing got won over by it, too.”

 

Yun Zhiyi didn’t buy that for a second.

 

Zhou Jing was a genius with an IQ of 155; she didn’t believe for a moment that he hadn’t noticed Zhang Xu’s oddities.

 

“And the second possibility?”

 

“The second one…” Gao Gusheng’s expression turned serious. “The second one is a bit troublesome. I really hope it’s not that.”

 

“I’m worried there’s something peculiar about Zhang Xu—something that could influence others, the way Xiaomian and Huazi were affected. I’m afraid Zhou Jing might have been influenced, too.”

 

Yun Zhiyi frowned. “Didn’t they say the chances of people with abilities influencing each other are incredibly slim?”

 

Gao Gusheng shook his head. “Slim odds don’t mean zero odds. If Zhou Jing really has been influenced, then Zhang Xu’s ability must be terrifyingly powerful.”

 

“But don’t worry, Sister Yun; my dad is coming over specifically to verify this.”

 

Gao Gusheng’s expression relaxed, and he took another big gulp of milk tea.

 

Yun Zhiyi breathed a sigh of relief. “And the third possibility?”

 

“As for the third one… I’m not telling you!”

 

Gao Gusheng grinned and dodged a playful, lethal elbow strike from Yun Zhiyi. “Hey, that’s Yanjing’s secret—he has to tell you himself.”

 

Just then, spotting Sun Jun in the distance, Gao Gusheng waved enthusiastically. “Junzi! Over here!”

 

Sun Jun smiled and walked over briskly, dragging his suitcase. Gao Gusheng casually took the suitcase from him, while Yun Zhiyi thrust her milk tea into his hand.

 

Gao Gusheng asked, “How did it go, Junzi?”

 

Sun Jun smiled gently. “My teacher said I could do even better.”

 

Gao Gusheng knew Wu Qin’s temperament well; hearing him say something like that meant he was absolutely delighted with his apprentice. He smiled and hooked his arm around Sun Jun’s neck. “No way, Junzi—you have to give me an autograph. Once you become famous, I’ll be the guy who owns a piece personally signed by a master of traditional Chinese painting.”

 

Sun Jun was amused yet exasperated. Suddenly remembering something, he asked, “By the way, do you guys know Zhang Xu? I heard he’s an alumnus of ours?”

 

At the mention of Zhang Xu, Yun Zhiyi and Gao Gusheng exchanged glances. Yun Zhiyi spoke first: “That’s right. He jumped from a building a while back, hit his head, and lost his memory.”

 

“His personality changed drastically after the amnesia; he’s famous across the whole school now.”

 

To think that even Sun Jun, who had been abroad, knew about Zhang Xu?

 

Sun Jun asked, puzzled, “I recall the senior was from the School of Information Technology, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He grew even more confused. “But he asked if I’d be willing to join his art studio.”

 

“What?”

 

As he spoke, Sun Jun took out his phone and started searching through it. “He contacted me a while ago. At first, I turned him down—after all, I’m committed to studying under my current teacher.”

 

“But then he showed me this,” Sun Jun said, finally pulling up what he was looking for—”his paintings.”

 

It was a highly abstract painting.

 

Expanses of blue in varying shades—reminiscent of the ocean, yet also like the night sky.

 

Yet, one could inexplicably sense a powerful, awe-inspiring quality in it. It evoked the feeling of gazing up at the stars from a vast, open wilderness, or looking out at the sea from a boat in the dead of night—that profound sense of powerlessness and insignificance that rises from the depths of the human soul when confronted with the majesty of nature.

 

Yun Zhiyi held her breath, while Gao Gusheng’s reaction was even more intense. He felt like a wild beast encountering a mortal enemy; the hairs on his back stood on end, and his heart pounded wildly, threatening to burst right out of his chest.

 

“Such a sweet scent… what is that smell?”

 

Gao Gusheng snapped back to reality. Noticing that the gazes of Yun Zhiyi and Sun Jun had grown dazed, he hurriedly channeled the cultivation technique Ying Bujie had given him. Since they were outdoors in the open air, the breeze quickly dispersed the floral fragrance.

 

Yun Zhiyi and Sun Jun also shook off their stupor.

 

Unaware of what had just transpired—save for a lingering sense of dizziness—they looked at the painting again, only to find that the overwhelming impact it had previously held was now significantly diminished.

 

Yun Zhiyi exclaimed in awe, “I may not fully grasp the nuances of this piece, but I suspect its selling price could easily top two hundred million—no, five hundred million US dollars!”

 

Sun Jun nodded and sighed softly. “Exactly. After seeing this painting, my teacher locked himself in his room all night; he’s considering merging his entire studio under Zhang Xu’s name.”

 

Gao Gusheng studied the painting. It was distinct from the work Jia Qi had created using the seductive powers of a fox spirit.

 

Jia Qi’s painting had been mediocre at best; its allure came entirely from the enchantment the fox spirit had imbued it with.

 

This painting, however, was a masterpiece of natural perfection and divine artistry—as if the brush had served as a pair of scissors, snipping a slice of the starry sky from the horizon and pasting it onto the canvas.

 

Yet, there were still similarities between the two works.

 

Both artists had applied an “external force” to their creations.

 

In Jia Qi’s case, it was enchantment.

 

In Zhang Xu’s case, Gao Gusheng felt it was something closer to “awe-inspiring intimidation.”

 

He swiped his finger along the side of his phone and sent a message to Gao Shi. [Dad, I think I’ve run into a bit of a problem here.]

 

When Gao Shi received the text message, he was also dealing with a few issues of his own.

 

First was the Gao family, currently under siege by numerous other enterprises.

 

Second was the ever-increasing number of ghosts in City B.

 

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