Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Being the meticulous man he was, Uncle Li drafted a "Game Survey Questionnaire" the next day, printed out a thousand copies, and hired a few part-time students to conduct surveys at major universities.

He sighed inwardly, marveling at how the young master had rarely shown such interest in anyone. It seemed that the relationship between the young master and Shen Gali was on the verge of blossoming. At this rate, when he was too old to get around, he could rest assured that someone would sincerely accompany the young master.

*

The next morning, Shen Gali received a text from the director of the admissions promotional video, informing him to arrive at the school's art center at ten o'clock for blocking rehearsals.

As soon as he saw the word "rehearsal," Shen Gali's heart sank.

There's going to be an actual shoot after the rehearsal, right?

But the principal had proposed a reform in student incentives—anyone involved with bonuses would receive the money first and then do the work.

So, right after the text, a notification that a thousand yuan had been transferred came through.

Shen Gali sat up with a groan, changed his clothes, and trudged to school, his face etched with exhaustion.

He knew his physical limits well—a maximum distance of fifty meters before he'd have to sit by the roadside to catch his breath—so he left two hours early.

By July, the sun was a blazing fire overhead. Even just walking out of the tree-lined path leading to the main road, Shen Gali was already breaking into a light sweat. But the sweat was cold, and when the wind blew, it sent chills down his spine, making him shiver.

By the time he reached school, the last bit of color had drained from his face. He was as pale as paper, even his eyelashes seemed to have lost their color, casting shadows over his dull, light eyes. He looked like he might collapse at any moment.

The senior student director had bought cold drinks for everyone to beat the heat. When she saw Shen Gali, she was startled by how pale he looked.

"Are you okay? You don't look well. Maybe you should go home and rest today and come back tomorrow?" the senior asked with concern.

Shen Gali shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm fine, it's a chronic thing. Tomorrow will be the same."

He was sick and tired of the endless blocking rehearsals, but he understood the rule: money first, work later. Thinking about his future fancy grave, what obstacle couldn't he overcome?

The filming locations were spread across the colleges housing several of the school's flagship programs. Each college was a few hundred meters apart, and there were also landmark spots like the Song Poetry Pavilion and White Deer Cottage behind the school. The entire route, measured in a straight line, was over a kilometer.

After chugging two bottles of Bull Red vitamin drinks, Shen Gali mustered his energy to go through the rehearsal once. By the end, he was drenched in sweat, his shirt soaked through, faintly revealing the pink skin beneath.

The students couldn't help stealing a few glances. They sighed inwardly, realizing they were just as superficial—judging by looks. Suddenly, they didn't find Shen Gali so annoying anymore; in fact, he was actually pretty adorable. Not only was he adorable, but he never complained about being frail or tired, and he seemed to be giving it his all.

After the rehearsal, the senior praised him. "Not bad. Just do what we did today. The actors are fine; the camera crew just needs to be a bit more careful..."

"Okay, now we're shooting the actual footage. Everyone in position. Let's start over from the School of Political Science and Law."

Shen Gali slowly stood up. The brick under his feet felt like waterlogged cotton—with every step, it was as if he might sink into the center of the earth.

The blazing sun overhead blazed relentlessly, and under its harsh light, he looked almost translucent, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

One hour later.

Two thousand meters. A full two thousand meters.

Shen Gali sat on a curbstone, hugging his knees, his cheek weakly resting on his kneecaps.

Had he even walked two thousand meters in the entire past year? He couldn't believe it. Today alone, he had walked as much as he would have in a whole year.

His chest felt tight, as if stuffed with a big wad of cotton. His breathing became slow and heavy, even pausing for a few beats.

It hurt...

The scene before him suddenly turned into static on a TV. The senior's lips moved, but no sound reached him. His head was filled with nothing but loud buzzing.

Instinctively, Shen Gali reached into his pocket for his heart medication, but after fumbling for a bit, he realized he was now in the world of the book and didn't have any on him.

The senior was just wrapping up, thanking everyone and saying the edited final cut would be sent to the group chat ASAP. Once the school approved it, they'd all go out for a meal.

Then she heard a thud.

She turned to look and saw Shen Gali collapsed on the ground.

In the second before he fainted, Shen Gali heard exclamations rising and falling around him.

He couldn't help but feel overjoyed—

Here it comes! Peacefully closing eyes.jpg

But he also felt a twinge of worry.

With his current savings, could he afford even one brick in the "Garden of Life After Death"?

He felt a bit reluctant...

The senior was terrified by the scene. She quickly called over a few strong male students to help hold him up. She called out to him several times, but Shen Gali seemed completely unconscious, lying there calmly, not moving despite all the shouting.

"Take him to the school clinic first. Contact his family."

At the clinic, the senior fished his phone out of his pocket. The screen lit up with no lock screen password, so she quickly opened his contacts—

Huh? Idiot #1?

Idiot #2?

She scrolled down to the last entry, Idiot #129, and was dumbfounded.

So which idiot was she supposed to call?

And how on earth did Shen Gali match faces to these labels? He must be some kind of genius.

Just then, the phone rang. It was an incoming call from Idiot #22.

She answered, and Uncle Li's ever-loyal voice came through: "Mr. Shen, I didn't see you this morning. Where are you now?"

"Excuse me, are you family of Shen Gali? I'm his senior classmate. He had an accident and is at the school clinic. Can you come?"

Uncle Li's heart nearly stopped at the news!

He put down the phone and hurried downstairs. He found Nan Liujing still by the floor-to-ceiling window, enjoying a peaceful morning overlooking the garden. He said:

"Master, it seems Mr. Shen has had an accident. His classmate says he's unconscious and at the school clinic. Would you like to come with me to see him?"

Nan Liujing's fingers paused slightly as he turned a page. Then he lowered his eyes again, his dark, glossy lashes veiling his cold pupils. "What's that got to do with me?"

In the original novel, there was a similar scene. The original Shen Gali, due to prolonged abuse from the villain, was malnourished and collapsed, and was sent to the hospital. The butler called to ask if the villain would visit him, and the villain replied coldly: "Is he dead yet? If not, call me when he's dead so I can deal with the funeral."

Though reality differed somewhat from the text, it wasn't far off.

Uncle Li pulled an awkward smile. "He is your lawful husband. It stands to reason—"

"What's all this 'stands to reason'? Who made that rule?" Nan Liujing cut him off coldly, his eyes never leaving the text, betraying no emotion.

Uncle Li sighed, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Then please rest well. I'll go to the school clinic myself."

The young master is sometimes really strange. Last night he was still caring about Shen Gali's preferences, but now he acts like an indifferent stranger. Which of the young master's feelings is real?

Nan Liujing didn't respond to him anymore, turning the pages of his book, utterly unruffled.

After the door opened and shut, once Butler Li's chatter faded, the world fell silent once again.

Nan Liujing was still flipping through the pages, but he couldn't take in a single word of what he was reading.

After a long while, he slowly raised his eyes to the closed door, his fingers idly stroking the book cover.

He grabbed his phone from the table and called Butler Li, his voice still devoid of warmth: "After you come back from the hospital, go straight to the company. I left a document there, and on the way, swing by the mall to pick up tonight's groceries."

"Also, don't bother updating me on Shen Gali's condition. I'm not interested."

*

The view outside the car window slowly fell away, shrinking until it disappeared.

The driver secretly glanced at Nan Liujing in the rearview mirror, seeing him quietly staring out the window, seemingly preoccupied with something.

The driver asked curiously, "Why's President Nan heading to Jinhai University all of a sudden? Isn't today your day off?"

Nan Liujing said flatly, "Their school admin came to me earlier about building a new college. I'm going to check out the situation."

The driver was puzzled.

He vaguely remembered that this had come up, but at the time Nan Liujing had explicitly refused. Although Jinhai University held a high social status, even if they offered no money, there'd be plenty of developers lining up to build for them. But Nan Liujing was a businessman to the core, and he wouldn't bother with chump change, so that was the end of it.

Why'd he suddenly change his mind?

The driver was curious but didn't dare ask.

When he arrived, the school's leadership team was already rolling out the red carpet at the gate, with a banner they'd thrown together in a hurry that read:

"Warm Welcome to Mr. Nan Liujing, Executive of Huanhai Group, Visiting Our University."

Once inside the campus, the leaders crowded around him, enthusiastically rattling off the school's history and culture. Nan Liujing listened attentively on the surface, but behind his sunglasses, his eyes were scanning the buildings around him.

Only when he spotted the red cross on the white building did he look away.

In the leadership office, they served him tea and made a fuss over him. Nan Liujing glanced at his watch, and once the leaders were done with the pleasantries, said:

"Gentlemen, you must be busy. So let's cut to the chase and talk about building the new college."

The leaders looked uncomfortable.

"To be honest, the plan to establish the new college was approved by the education department, but the parents of the students are being extremely difficult. They're afraid their kids won't get the best resources, so they strongly oppose the new college. Plus, a few of these parents are trouble. So the construction's gotta be put on ice."

As politicians, they were being diplomatic, but "on hold" basically meant "dead in the water."

"Since it's been officially greenlit, no need to change course over a bunch of noise. Give me a list of those troublesome parents, and I'll have a word with them." Nan Liujing spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument.

The leaders' faces lit up.

Who's harder to deal with than the big-money conglomerate behind Huanhai Electronics?

The leaders had been so frustrated by this issue that they couldn't eat or sleep, but Nan Liujing's offhand words were like a shot of confidence, instantly lifting their spirits.

They wanted to discuss the details further, but Nan Liujing said, "I'll stop by another day to hash out the specifics. I have some things to take care of now, so I'd better not keep you. See you."

Knowing he was a busy man, the leaders scrambled to see him out.

Nan Liujing's curt "No need to see me off" stopped them in their tracks.

The driver was waiting downstairs, expecting the meeting to take at least half a day, but Nan Liujing came out after just ten minutes.

Just as he was about to get into the car, Nan Liujing said to the driver, "You don't need to drive me. Go ahead."

The driver looked at the man in the wheelchair and naturally didn't dare leave him alone.

Seeing the driver hesitate, Nan Liujing said, "You know I don't keep employees who lack execution."

The driver was still worried about the responsibility, but before leaving, he repeatedly urged Nan Liujing to call him once he got home.

Fortunately, Jinhai University was only two blocks away from his residence. The driver kept reassuring himself as he got into the car, looking back repeatedly.

After the car vanished from sight, Nan Liujing sat alone for a while, then looked up at the red cross half-hidden by tall buildings, his hand resting on the auxiliary wheel of the wheelchair.