Chapter Three: An Unrealistic Blessing

On the other side of the screen, Chen Motong simply switched his account status from online to invisible. Seeing the string of vulgar words sent by Lu Mingfei, he couldn’t help but furrow his elegantly shaped brows.

“Our S-level, doesn’t seem to have very high moral standards.”

Lu Mingfei continued typing away, gradually regaining his previously clumsy typing skills.

Suddenly, a red exclamation mark appeared at the beginning of his message bar.

“Sending failed, please add the recipient as a friend first.”

Damn, he had actually been blacklisted. This bastard was online, had read the message, but refused to reply!

Lu Mingfei removed his hands from the keyboard and sneered quietly twice.

This was just his tactic.

A few simple trash talks often could extract information that was otherwise hidden, while misleading the enemy into thinking he was an impulsive person. This was the simplest way to manipulate human emotions.

At least now he knew that the guy on the other side of the screen had a fragile psychological defense and indeed had ulterior motives—pretending to be mysterious and lurking in the shadows to spy.

Tricks like deception and fraud were child’s play for Lu Mingfei, which oddly put him somewhat at ease.

He checked the chat history with Chen Wenwen again, but all he saw was himself like a dog endlessly orbiting around her. Despite sending long messages and emoticons, Chen Wenwen only occasionally replied with a few words.

Even though Lu Mingfei had experienced the coldness of human nature in the dark otherworld, seeing his past pathetic self gave him a sense of shame, as if his embarrassing history had been exposed.

His hands hovered over the keyboard several times, wanting to send messages like “Haha, that was my cousin using my account just now” or “Not me, the account was sold,” trying to patch things up. But if Chen Wenwen kept ignoring him, wouldn’t that be even more humiliating?

Better to give up.

At least he confirmed Chen Wenwen wasn’t using a fake account to tease him. Given his past pathetic state, Chen Wenwen could easily make him her puppet with just a snap of her fingers—no need for any alternate accounts.

At this moment, Lu Mingze entered the shared bedroom of him and Lu Mingfei, giving his cousin a once-over with a look of impatience.

“Mom and Dad called Professor Gudrian. They said the interview at the Regency Hotel is the day after tomorrow. You’d better prepare well.”

Lu Mingfei didn’t have much to prepare. Strangely, the language he used in the dark otherworld was English. Years of living in a foreign language environment had greatly improved his spoken English, at least far better than Zhao Menghua, who arrogantly called himself an “English expert.”

...

The morning of the third day, Regency Hotel.

This was the most luxurious hotel in the city, a five-star chain, decorated in glittering gold and jade. American schools were really damn rich.

He sat outside the executive-level conference hall. There were exactly 17 chairs arranged outside—one for each of the seventeen interviewees. No one was asked to show ID. As soon as Lu Mingfei entered, a beautiful young lady led him here, where he saw a group of familiar faces he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Chen Wenwen, Liu Miaomiao, Zhao Menghua, Su Xiaoqiang, and some others he didn’t know but recognized as from the same school.

“Lu Mingfei?”

Everyone present was surprised by his arrival, as if it was very strange for him to be here.

Lu Mingfei ignored them, pulled out the chair next to the most beautiful girl, Su Xiaoqiang, and sat down.

Su Xiaoqiang didn’t expect Lu Mingfei to sit beside her. She twisted her slender waist, shifted a little further away, crossed her long legs, revealing a mysteriously seductive black line, and asked with a bit of annoyance:

“Lu Mingfei, why are you sitting next to me? Also, did you receive an invitation? You’re not just here to freeload, are you?”

This wealthy American school provided free croissants and hot milk. After taking her seat, she immediately began to feast, but she hadn’t seen any invitation letter from him.

The croissants were soft and sweet, perfectly complementing the rich hot milk. After eating pig feed in the dark otherworld, anything tasted like a delicacy now.

Lu Mingfei drank the last sip of milk, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and replied to her words:

“Yeah, I snuck in to freeload. You might as well have someone kick me out—I’m done eating anyway.”

Su Xiaoqiang glanced at him but wasn’t foolish enough to call the staff. Her peripheral vision caught sight of Lu Mingfei’s pure black phone on the table, prompting her to tease again:

“Well, look at you, Lu Mingfei, you’ve got money now. Usually, you’d sponge off others’ internet fees, and now you quietly bought an N96.”

Her words caught the attention of a small group in the conference hall. Several people, including Chen Wenwen, looked at the phone on his desk with mild surprise.

Lu Mingfei smirked faintly but said nothing.

He had forcibly taken back his N96 from his uncle and deliberately sat in front of Su Xiaoqiang, who often quarreled with him, just to hear that comment.

Among the seventeen people in the conference room, all were top students, outstanding individuals, yet only he received a precious phone.

This American school had come specifically for him.

Why?

Lu Mingfei shot a glance at Su Xiaoqiang’s crossed, smooth long legs as a form of retaliation.

“Has Liu Miaomiao arrived?”

The door to the inner conference room opened, and a tall, slender young man came out. Handsome and fluent in Chinese, he wore a slim, dark green suit with a silver edge on the collar, golden buttons and cuffs shining, and an embroidered silver badge on the chest that looked like a school emblem.

Liu Miaomiao stood up sharply, her voice slightly trembling.

“Here.”

“I’m the examiner Ye Sheng. Please follow me.”

The young man smiled, revealing white teeth.

Liu Miaomiao stepped in gracefully with Ye Sheng, the door closing behind them. The remaining fifteen people exchanged nervous glances. Only Lu Mingfei played with his phone, chuckling softly from time to time, seemingly entertained by something.

“Hey, have you guys searched the Kassel Academy website?” Zhao Menghua asked Su Xiaoqiang and Chen Wenwen. “It’s supposed to be a prestigious school, with many Harvard professors transferring there to teach!”

“Yeah, I got the interview notice without even applying.”

Chen Wenwen nodded, secretly glancing at Lu Mingfei, who was sitting next to Su Xiaoqiang, legs crossed, playing on his phone without looking up.

Everyone needed attention—confidence and joy came from it. Lu Mingfei, who used to be a devoted admirer, now blatantly ignored her, which naturally made her feel some resentment.

“Prestigious schools don’t care about application fees, only quality, right?” Zhao Menghua said.

“If they only care about quality, how did someone like him get in?” Su Xiaoqiang eyed Lu Mingfei sideways.

The two started their banter again.

Lu Mingfei decided to bruise their egos a little, glancing at Su Xiaoqiang before bluffing:

“My parents work at Kassel Academy.”

“Huh?” The three were dumbfounded, momentarily at a loss for words.

Lu Mingfei shook the sleek, all-black exquisite phone in his hand:

“You don’t really think I could afford such an expensive phone on my own, do you?”

The atmosphere suddenly grew even more silent. Known slots were limited—if there were also privileged candidates, then the rest would only be running alongside.

For a moment, Lu Mingfei’s acquaintances didn’t know what to say.

The door opened again. Ye Sheng politely gestured.

Liu Miaomiao came out, saying thanks over her shoulder. It was clear she was forcing herself not to show disappointment, but the disappointment was plainly written on her face.

“Su Xiaoqiang.”

The “Little Goddess” also stood up sharply. Her beautiful eyes widened, and her steps were stiff as she followed Ye Sheng inside.

Lu Mingfei clenched his fist behind her back in encouragement, whispering mockingly:

“Good luck; aim for second place!”

When “Little Goddess” came out, her steps were even stiffer than before, and her expression was less disappointment or frustration, more anger. She glared viciously at Lu Mingfei and turned to leave.

The interviews went quickly. Zhao Menghua was out in less than three minutes, his expression bewildered as he hurried away.

Maybe they’d try to find a way to report Lu Mingfei for using connections.

Chen Wenwen lasted the longest—fifteen minutes. Afterward, her face was expressionless, head bowed, staring at her toes.

“Lu Mingfei, you’re next.” Ye Sheng waved to him warmly.

Lu Mingfei said nothing and followed Ye Sheng into the conference room.

The room was empty, with a large table that could seat dozens but now held only one sweetly smiling girl in a uniform like Ye Sheng’s, except hers was a skirt with a rose-red lace scarf tucked into the collar.

“My name is Jiu Deya Ji. I’m also one of the examiners.” The girl stood up and bowed politely to Lu Mingfei in typical Japanese style.

“Hello, I’m Lu Mingfei,” he nodded simply.

Ye Sheng sat beside Jiu Deya Ji, opened a laptop, and looked at Lu Mingfei.

“Well, let’s get started.”

Lu Mingfei nodded, relaxed.

“Do you believe in aliens?” Jiu Deya Ji asked softly.

Lu Mingfei was taken aback—didn’t expect such a strange question, and it was in Chinese. Could it be there were privileged candidates in the outer hall?

But he decided to go with the flow and shook his head:

“No.”

“Really?” Jiu Deya Ji’s expression was neutral, giving no positive or negative reaction. “Why not?”

“Even fellow humans are untrustworthy; how much more so those alien species with ulterior motives?”

Of course, this was Lu Mingfei’s inner thought. To Jiu Deya Ji, he simply said:

“No means no.”

Jiu Deya Ji diligently took notes and then asked the second question:

“Do you believe in supernatural powers?”

Lu Mingfei shook his head again.

“No.”

Their questions were strange. Had they really monitored some of his information to investigate? Should he prepare something in advance?

“Why not?”

“No means no.”

Jiu Deya Ji remained expressionless. After a brief pause, she asked the third question:

“So, the third question: do you think the basis for human survival is idealistic—spirit and soul—or materialistic—matter and body?”

“Materialistic.”

Jiu Deya Ji seemed to have figured out Lu Mingfei’s answering pattern. She didn’t press further, sighed lightly, nodded, and confirmed:

“Is that all your answers?”

Is that really all his answers?

Of course not. This was his blessing.