Unlike middle school or high school, university cafeterias served better food, and there was still a dinner rush between six and seven, but class schedules were far less uniform.
Some students with no afternoon classes opted to eat a bit early, while others without evening classes chose to dine later—or simply ordered takeout.
Either way, they were college students now. With a cafeteria on campus and no ban on delivery, no one was going hungry.
The five of them had arrived early, before classes let out, but a few students were already scattered around, lining up for food.
Compared to the vast cafeteria, though, they looked few and far between, giving the place a somewhat deserted feel.
That was a good thing, since Bai Shishi still wasn’t entirely comfortable in crowds.
With so few people around, there were fewer stares directed their way, and the occasional glance was usually drawn to the other three instead.
Bai Shishi, walking beside Mo Xiangwen, had a bright smile lighting up her small face, her steps light and bouncy.
She still didn’t stray far from his side, but she seemed in high spirits—even initiating a chat with Yan Nuoya.
“Is Sister Nuoya in the same class as Xiao Yi?”
Yan Nuoya was a little surprised, but she felt a twinge of guilt toward Bai Shishi. With a chance to build some rapport, she was more than happy to oblige.
“Yeah, what did you want to ask, Shishi?”
“How are classes usually… “
Bai Shishi and Yan Nuoya chatted animatedly, with Bai Shishi letting out occasional light, cheerful laughs.
Seeing how well they were getting along, Mo Xiangwen decided to strike up a conversation with Su Mengli and Su Mengyao.
“By the way, Mengli, Mengyao—do you know where the Entrepreneurship Guidance Center is? Or the University Student Entrepreneurship Incubation Base?”
Su Mengyao shook her head without hesitation. “I’ve never paid any attention to that stuff.”
Su Mengli paused for a moment, her delicate brows furrowing slightly as she thought it over. “I think it’s behind the biggest supermarket on the commercial street.”
Behind the supermarket? That area was on the edge of campus—vast and open, even bigger than Little Square.
Mo Xiangwen had only ridden past it once on his bike when he first arrived at school. Aside from delivery workers and strolling couples, it was practically deserted.
Puzzled, Mo Xiangwen asked, “Why would it be behind the commercial street? I figured it’d be in one of the academic buildings. That spot’s way too remote.”
“The commercial street is part of the campus too, so it’s not that weird for the incubation base to be there.”
“True, but why pick such an out-of-the-way location?”
“Probably saving the prime spots for shops,” Su Mengli mused. “Not many people go to the University Student Entrepreneurship Incubation Base anyway… That’s all I know.”
Mo Xiangwen hadn’t really expected her to have all the answers. Just knowing the location was a pleasant surprise—he’d even been planning to ask the counselor.
“Got it. Thanks.”
“No problem. But Xiangwen, why are you asking? Planning to start a business? Short on cash? I can spot you some if it’s not too much. You’re not going anywhere now that you’re on campus.”
As she said the last part, she winked at him.
Rich babe, I don’t wanna grind anymore.
If not for his damn pride, he might have blurted it out.
“Not exactly broke, but yeah, I want to make some money.” Mo Xiangwen shook his head. “Truth is, this whole ‘entrepreneurship’ thing—I could do it right from my dorm.”
His writing was finally hitting its stride. It was enough to support himself now, without needing allowance from home. He even had spare cash to send back.
Spending every spare moment in the dorm either writing or gaming with his roommates felt like a waste.
He might not have experienced the full college life before, but he’d already had four years of it.
“Then what do you need the incubation base for?”
“Mostly for the certificate.”
He saw no reason to hide it from them—they’d known each other long enough.
“I heard that for entrepreneurial students, it’s okay to skip filler classes now and then. Teachers don’t dock points too hard.”
“They go easy on final grades too.”
“And it can help make up credits.”
That was how it worked at his old school, but he wasn’t sure about H University.
Still, he’d have to check it out.
He just couldn’t muster much interest for anything outside his major courses.
Better to find an excuse to skip than sit through lectures glued to his phone.
But skip too often, and he’d risk failing. Hence, this plan.
“There might be something to that, but if you’re not actually starting a business, teachers usually won’t issue the certificate.”
“Oh, but I am for real,” Mo Xiangwen said. “Making games counts as entrepreneurship, right?”
Sure, it was partly to ditch classes, but he was serious about it.
The biggest cost for an indie game was time anyway. Repurposing filler class slots was perfect.
Worst case, if the game flopped, he could always use the time to write.
Pounding away at his novel on his phone right under Yan Nuoya’s nose? No thanks.
“Eh? A game?”
To his surprise, when he mentioned game development, Su Mengli let out a soft exclamation and stopped in her tracks, staring at him in shock.
The other three halted too, as if they’d all zeroed in on a magic word, their eyes fixed on him.
True to form, Su Mengyao stepped right up, eyeing him curiously. “What kind of game are you making?”
Mo Xiangwen glanced at Yan Nuoya and Bai Shishi, who looked just as intrigued, their eyes sparkling with anticipation.
He’d underestimated how much “making a game” would hook a bunch of hardcore gamers.
“Not decided yet, but for an indie game, I’ll probably go for something low-effort to develop.”
Mo Xiangwen shook his head. “I’ll fill you in later. Let’s grab food first, before it gets crowded.”
The others glanced around the cafeteria. Compared to earlier, more students were lining up at the counters and filling the tables, with even more streaming in through the doors.
“Yeah, food first.” Su Mengyao nodded energetically. “But you have to tell us all about it later.”
“Sure thing, sure thing.”
