Su Mi stood in front of the car in a daze, her mind swirling with thoughts of the concert Shen Han had mentioned.
What concert?
She clenched her fist, feeling that something was off, but Shen Han’s expression was calm, as if she simply wanted to contribute to healing Su Mi’s mental power.
Su Mi hesitated for a moment before dryly agreeing.
She felt a bit nervous, with a strange intuition that Shen Han might have ulterior motives toward her.
Su Mi figured it was probably just her showing her inexperience—after all, she had never been to a concert and was afraid she’d come off like a country bumpkin in the city, unable to appreciate anything and getting found out by Shen Han.
She didn’t dare meet Shen Han’s gaze. Since she had already agreed anyway, Su Mi turned and ran off.
As soon as she got upstairs and into the dorm, Xu Nanqiao was inside reading a book. She turned her head toward Su Mi at the door. “Everything okay?”
Su Mi: “Yeah, nothing’s wrong.”
She changed her clothes and shoes, then asked, “Have you eaten? Want me to boil some noodles?”
In the two weeks since school started, the library and classroom building were quite a distance from the dorms, so Su Mi and Xu Nanqiao usually ate at the cafeteria if they studied at the library. If they were back in the dorm at night, Su Mi would cook some quick food—they rarely ordered takeout.
Xu Nanqiao had tried cooking once and then wisely gave up on it with full self-awareness.
But this time, Xu Nanqiao pulled her back. “Don’t change yet. Let’s go to the snack street and have some pig belly chicken hotpot?”
Su Mi was surprised. “Why the sudden fancy meal?” The snack street outside school wasn’t far, but the two of them were usually too lazy to go.
Xu Nanqiao looked at her. “Didn’t you just get back from the hospital? Time to nourish your body.”
Su Mi: “How did you know?”
Xu Nanqiao showed her. “It’s on the forums. You fainted and got taken to the hospital—lots of people saw.”
Su Mi: “…”
Ah!
Heaven.
Her heart jolted as she tapped open the link Xu Nanqiao shared. Sure enough, there was a post on the school forum titled: Why did an ambulance come to the lab building? Did someone get carried out?
She clicked into the post. The main floor had a blurry photo taken from afar showing Su Mi being carried away—her face wasn’t very clear, only recognizable to those who knew her.
The comments below were okay at first, mostly expressing fear that some study-obsessed top student had overworked themselves right at the start of school and gotten carted off. Some suspected a lab accident.
Later, a classmate of Su Mi’s showed up and explained the general situation—it wasn’t serious, just that her mental power level exceeded the machine’s range, causing her to faint.
Everyone’s attention shifted back to s-grade mental power, but fortunately, Su Mi had been extremely low-key since enrolling. Hardly anyone knew her, and there was no background info to search, so the discussion fizzled out after a few comments, and the post sank.
Su Mi anxiously read through everything and let out a sigh of relief.
She was glad she wasn’t as high-profile as the original host. She kept a low profile, staying cooped up—either at the library or in class every day. No one recognized her.
Otherwise, it would have been total social death…
Su Mi didn’t like being in the spotlight, let alone something this embarrassing.
Once she calmed down, she grew a bit curious. “Nanqiao, how did you see this post?”
Xu Nanqiao was changing into going-out clothes and replied, “Ren Yue spotted it and sent it to me. She recognized you at a glance.”
Su Mi glanced at her light brain—there were no messages from Ren Yue. She figured she’d let Ren Yue know she was safe later. Once Xu Nanqiao finished changing, they headed downstairs together toward the cafeteria.
On Friday night, she went home. On Saturday morning, she happily accompanied her little brother reading picture books. After Su Ciyu returned from her business trip at noon, Su Mi got dragged into the study for a lecture.
It was true—Su Mi hadn’t taken her mental power or gland seriously at all.
It was something she hadn’t encountered in her previous twenty-plus years, and after a few months in this world, her gland was always properly covered with a suppressor patch. All barriers were in place. Even though there had been that one temporary mark before, she was good at compartmentalizing her memories, so the embarrassing bits stayed tucked away in a corner of her mind. She kept living as if she were a beta.
Su Ciyu nagged her relentlessly about the importance of mental power.
Indeed, most people in this world didn’t pay much attention to mental power because even the most talented were usually just a-grade, and ordinary folks were c-grade or below.
Currently, unless it reached s-grade, mental power was pretty much useless, so many people didn’t even bother testing their level.
But Su Mi was different. Su Ciyu and the others had thought that after warning her several times about how fragile her gland and mental power were, she’d be more careful. Who knew Su Mi hadn’t taken it to heart at all.
Mental power was closely tied to the brain. Su Mi’s current s-grade mental power was as rare as phoenix feathers and qilin horns—powerful but fragile.
Without training, it was the most dangerous state. Either don’t use it at all, or slowly condition and learn to control it step by step.
Su Ciyu’s original plan had been the former. After all, mental power training was rare in modern society—only a few light brain labs researched it as a side topic.
And Su Mi had to go and bump into it, getting overstimulated and fainting just like that.
Su Ciyu wanted to knock on Su Mi’s head a few times, then sighed. “If you really want to learn about it, you need to start with controlling your mental power. I’ll have your dad and I find an authoritative doctor to introduce you to. Be careful at school too—don’t stimulate it to the point of fainting again. If this keeps up, you’ll have to move back home, got it?”
Su Mi obediently said yes, then grew curious. Controlling mental power? Could she make it materialize like Shen Han did?
But thinking of Shen Han’s mental power… she… could only think of indecent places.
She secretly pinched her palm to stop her mind from wandering.
She asked, “What about big sis? Doesn’t she have high-grade mental power? She should know something about it, right?”
“She…” Su Ciyu paused. “How to put it… I’ll look into it.”
Su Ciyu didn’t say more and changed the subject. “If I’d known Shen Han was sending someone to the hospital for your mental power test report that day, I’d have prepared a copy there for her. She has connections at the school—if she’d gotten your info ahead of time, she could’ve given them a heads-up.”
Su Mi blinked. Shen Han had sent someone to the hospital for her report?
She shrank back a little and asked, “Which day?”
“Last week.” Su Ciyu gave a date—two days before the enrollment masquerade ball.
Su Mi immediately thought of the star necklace Shen Han had given her, and the warnings about her health afterward.
“Wait!” she said hurriedly, dashing back to her room. From the special spot where she kept gifts from Shen Han, she grabbed the jewelry box with the star necklace and brought it to show Su Ciyu.
Panting: “This is what Shen Han gave me after that.”
She then looked at Su Ciyu expectantly for her verdict.
Su Ciyu took out the familiar star necklace, examined it for a moment, and frowned. “She gave you this?”
Su Mi racked her brains to recount: “Yeah, that time she asked if I’d done a mental power test. I said something like I think I had, and I don’t know what she was thinking, but she gave me this and told me to take care of myself at school.”
Su Ciyu held the necklace up to the light, turning it. She pointed something out to Su Mi. “There’s a serial number here. Take a photo and ask Aunt Fu’s daughter if it’s from their research institute and what it’s for.”
A question mark slowly rose above Su Mi’s head.
Aunt Fu’s daughter? Who?
She dug through her memories for a long time before remembering—it was the one who rush-made the pheromone blocking earrings for her, and Aunt Fu was Su Ciyu’s good friend… or neighbor?
In the original host’s memories, there was a next-door big sister a few years older whom the original host loved hanging out with, like a little tag-along.
Su Mi felt guilty. “How do I ask her?”
Su Ciyu: “Didn’t you play with her a lot in elementary school? No contact info? You didn’t even thank her for the earrings last time?”
Su Mi: “No, but didn’t you say you’d take me to thank her?”
Su Ciyu paused, then said helplessly, “Yeah… I got busy and forgot. Here, I’ll send you her contact.”
She put the necklace back in the box and handed it to Su Mi, then sent over a contact.
It was a meteor avatar—a brilliant comet with a long tail streaking across a dark blue background.
Su Mi tapped it open and saw it was indeed a friend. The original host’s note was a star emoji.
She asked quietly, “What’s her full name?”
Su Ciyu: “…She still remembers you and made you those important earrings, and you forgot her name? Fu Shixing—Shixing as in ‘pick up’.”
Su Mi updated the note, pinned the chat, and planned to ask later.
Once Su Ciyu saw her put everything away, she said, “Shen Han didn’t ask for anything else that day—just the mental power test report. She must’ve noticed your mental power fluctuations were off while around you. But even if she figured out you’re a fake beta… it should be fine?”
At the end, she studied Su Mi’s expression, cleared her throat, and asked casually, “How are things with Shen Han now? I heard she came back from Zhong City the day before yesterday to visit you.”
Su Mi: “…” How did Su Ciyu know everything?
She said with some difficulty, “It’s… the same as always.”
Su Ciyu: “You sure?”
Su Mi raised her hand in assurance. “It absolutely won’t affect things between our families and the Shen Family.”
Su Ciyu: “Who asked about that?”
She studied her for a moment, saw she was still clueless, sighed, and said, “Made any new friends at school? Used to dorm life?”
Su Mi replied obediently, “No, I just want to focus on studying right now. And friends are about quality, not quantity.”
Su Ciyu: “Didn’t see that coming. You’ve grown up a bit.”
She clearly didn’t think much of the original host’s previous shady friends either, but the Su Family’s parenting style was pretty hands-off and free-range. With parents always busy, they rarely interfered in the original host’s choices—in the original plot or with Su Mi now.
Plus, Su Mi had noticed that OOC restrictions on her were fading. Even if she occasionally did things the original host wouldn’t, as long as the logic held, there were no bindings.
She’d asked the system once, and its reply was that her persona and character would gradually merge with this world’s role through task progress and memory unlocks.
So Su Mi’s actions grew freer and more “her” over time.
After Su Ciyu asked a few more simple questions about school life, Su Mi took the jewelry box back to her room.
She put it away, sat at her desk, and first opened Fu Shixing’s Moments.
There was nothing personal about daily life—just photos of the sky, and 80% of them were night skies, like she looked up every day, snapped a pretty one, and posted it.
Looking up at the sky—good habit.
Su Mi pondered her words and sent a “Hi” sticker.
No reply.
Su Mi tapped her wristband, thinking maybe she was working overtime. A research institute sounded like a place busy with weekend shifts.
Sure enough, it wasn’t until dinnertime that Fu Shixing replied leisurely.
At the same time, a message from Shen Han popped up.
