Although Senior Wang Bin was quite skeptical about his idea and suggested finding some other pretext to dress it up while developing the game on the side in private,
he had also warned Mo Xiangwen that there were considerable risks involved.
Of course, the final decision was entirely up to him.
After all, Elder Li was the primary advisor at the Entrepreneurship Incubation Base, and he called the shots on most matters.
Deceiving the advisor wasn’t something to take lightly. Besides, they’d be interacting every few days, making it hard to keep anything hidden for long.
Mo Xiangwen mulled it over and decided to think on it more once he got back. He grabbed an application form and walked out with the others.
Even if he made up his mind right then, the form wouldn’t be easy to complete on the spot.
Moreover, if things were truly as Senior Wang Bin had described, he’d need to make far more thorough preparations.
Noticing his furrowed brow, Su Mengyao stepped up to him with a playful grin. “It’s okay. Worst comes to worst, you can always rent a place yourself.”
Mo Xiangwen blinked in surprise and sank into thought.
Rent a place? There was no real need for that. In the first place, he’d only wanted to use the entrepreneurship project as cover to slack off a little.
If that fell through, he could just work on it honestly in the dorm.
With that, he shook his head. “No big deal. Worst case, I’ll do it in the dorm.”
“You by yourself?” Su Mengyao eyed him curiously. “Can you even finish it alone?”
“Indie games get made by solo devs all the time,” Mo Xiangwen said with a shrug. “A simple one should be doable.”
As for the programming? It was all about learning on the job—doing while studying, studying while doing.
He’d been nurturing that cheat skill every day; it wasn’t like he could just let it gather dust.
No sooner had he spoken than he felt Bai Shishi tug at his hand.
Mo Xiangwen glanced down to see her pouting in clear displeasure. He instantly got the message.
“Of course, if we need any standing illustrations, I’ll commission your friends, Shishi.”
Only then did Bai Shishi release his hand, looking satisfied as she gave a small nod.
For a fleeting moment, she’d been tempted to confess that she could draw. But what if Mo Xiangwen couldn’t handle the idea of his novel-writing getting doxxed?
At the very least, she should wait until he finished <Junior Sister Raising Plan>. Otherwise, he might get spooked and bolt.
It was about time she found a way to nudge him into updating again. Bai Shishi made a silent vow to herself.
“Heyyy—” Su Mengyao drew out the sound in protest. “What about me? I wanna make the game with you too!”
“What do you mean ‘what about you’?” Mo Xiangwen shot her an exasperated look. “You’re not hurting for cash. Why horn in?”
“It’s about the sense of accomplishment! Even as a player, you get the itch to make your own game sometimes.” Su Mengyao’s big eyes sparkled brightly as she gazed at him. “Who says you can’t make games just because you’re loaded?”
“Next time, next time for sure.” Mo Xiangwen waved her off dismissively. “I can’t afford to hire you.”
It wasn’t that he exactly minded her… well, okay, maybe he did a little. But calling it outright disdain would be too harsh.
Truth be told, aside from her solid gaming skills, he had no clue what else Su Mengyao was good at.
He didn’t know her or Su Mengli all that well. The same went for Bai Shishi, really.
He had a slightly better read on Yan Nuoya—maybe writing, at a guess.
She might pick up programming down the line too, since they were in the same major.
But not yet. It hadn’t even been half a semester. Even with his cheat, he couldn’t learn that fast, let alone her.
The biggest issue right now, though, was money.
Even the cheapest university student on the market went for two thousand yuan, and he couldn’t swing that.
His monthly royalties from <Junior Sister Raising Plan> only came to a few thousand, and after living expenses, there wasn’t much left.
He could barely afford one helper if he stretched.
But he also needed to commission Bai Shishi’s friends for art. Skimp on cash, and he’d be begging for credit—hard pass.
He could handle the coding and writing himself, but drawing? No chance.
“Hey, you’re being so perfunctory.” Su Mengyao grumbled in dissatisfaction. “I don’t care about your piddly money. I just wanna give it a shot.”
Su Mengyao and Su Mengli both gave off total rich heiress vibes, so she probably really didn’t mind the cash.
But one thing was one thing. He couldn’t just channel some anime protagonist and feel okay sponging off her.
They were all friends, after all. How could he dangle empty promises and make her work for free?
If the game couldn’t happen, it couldn’t. For him, this wasn’t the only path.
He hesitated, racking his brain for a polite way to turn her down.
“Mengyao, don’t be so willful.” Su Mengli shook her head. “Come back here.”
Su Mengyao deflated instantly, like a frostbitten eggplant. Without a word, she slunk back to stand by her sister.
Su Mengli gave her little head a gentle pat, then turned to Mo Xiangwen and the others. “Sorry about that. Mengyao and I have class, so we’ll head out.”
Mo Xiangwen paused for a beat before nodding. “Sure. We just got word we need to get Shishi home too.”
“Oh, really?” Su Mengli glanced thoughtfully at Bai Shishi and smiled lightly. “Then next time you come, Shishi, let us know ahead of time. I can set up an offline group meet.”
“Yeah!” Bai Shishi forced as much energy into her voice as she could. “Bye, Mengli and Mengyao Sisters!”
“Bye, little Shishi sister.” After the pair bid her farewell, Su Mengli led her wilted sibling away.
Mo Xiangwen felt a twinge of guilt toward Su Mengyao, but he had to admit the sight was pretty amusing.
After Yan Nuoya helped him escort Bai Shishi to the rendezvous point, he spotted the counselor already parked and waiting for them.
The counselor hurried over as soon as she saw them.
Bai Shishi obediently returned to her side the moment they reached her.
The worried Fu Qianping, ever the concerned mother, grabbed her daughter’s hand and gave her a quick once-over from head to toe. Only after confirming no injuries did she exhale in relief.
“Shishi, are you okay?”
Bai Shishi nodded vigorously. “Yeah! Xiao Yi and Sister Nuoya took really good care of me.”
Fu Qianping turned to the two of them, thanking them profusely.
Once Bai Shishi had said her goodbyes, Fu Qianping bundled her into the car.
“Shishi, did you have fun?”
“Yeah, tons of fun.”
Having pushed through the afternoon on sheer willpower, the exhausted girl slumped in the back seat, on the verge of dozing off. Even her words came out faint and listless.
“That’s good. You didn’t forget anything, right? Let’s head home then.”
The half-asleep Bai Shishi suddenly jolted upright as a thought struck her. “Mom, wait! I forgot to tell them something.”
Fu Qianping, about to turn the key, paused and checked the rearview mirror. The pair hadn’t gone far.
“Alright, go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
Bai Shishi popped open the door. Spotting them chatting as they walked, she dashed a few steps to catch up.
Mo Xiangwen was surprised to see Bai Shishi chasing after them from behind.
She looked like she had something to say, but seeing her out of breath, he reassured her. “No rush. Catch your breath first.”
After a good while of panting, Bai Shishi finally mustered the strength to speak slowly. “I forgot to tell Xiao Yi something earlier.”
“Hm? Can’t you just send him a QQ message?”
“Saying it in person feels more sincere.” Bai Shishi shook her head, then abruptly changed tack. “By the way, Xiao Yi—which do you prefer: senior or senpai?”
Mo Xiangwen blinked, immediately guessing her game.
He’d called Su Mengli and Su Mengyao “senior sister” plenty of times already. He had to admit, he was a little curious about hearing “senior brother”… though “senpai” wasn’t bad either?
“Senpai, I suppose.” Mo Xiangwen chuckled. “But we can save ‘senior’ for next time?”
“Who knows when that’ll be.” Bai Shishi shook her head. “Don’t you and the others have class?”
Well, she had a point. Aligning everyone’s free time wasn’t easy.
Even if they could, trekking all this way for just an hour or two hardly made sense.
“Then, Senpai—thank you so much for looking after me today. Bye!”
Her soft, sweet voice instantly reminded him of those mobile games he’d played before. There was a popular voice actress for younger-guy roles who did character lines just like that—calling the player “senpai” in the cutest way.
Bai Shishi’s tone wasn’t professionally trained, but her natural timbre was lovely all the same. It gave off the same vibe.
Mo Xiangwen collected himself, about to reply, only to see her waving goodbye and heading off. Smiling, he waved back.
After watching Bai Shishi climb into the car, Yan Nuoya—who’d barely spoken all day—nudged him lightly with her shoulder.
“Let’s go. Walk me to the parcel station.”
