News traveled fast in elite circles.
By the time Lin Feng left the simulation room, the whispers had already spread like fire through dry leaves. Screenshots of the simulation scoreboard leaked onto private forums. Discussion threads exploded with comments.
"Who is this guy? That score's impossible unless he's been training under a hedge fund shark."
"Luo Zixuan lost face? Finally."
"Zhou Qian actually looked… impressed?"
Back on campus, Lin Feng strolled through the courtyard as if nothing had happened. His hoodie was back on, hands tucked casually into his pockets. The contrast between the storm he'd caused and his relaxed gait made heads turn everywhere he went.
He didn't slow down. But someone made sure he stopped.
"Wait."
It was Jiang Yue'er, standing by the vending machines, arms crossed, brows furrowed.
"You didn't tell me you were going to humiliate half the elite finance club."
Lin Feng raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't the goal."
"Then what was?"
He looked at her for a moment, then said simply, "To protect people like you from people like them."
That silenced her. Just for a heartbeat.
"I didn't ask for protection."
"You didn't have to."
Meanwhile, high above campus, in one of the top floors of the Glass Tower building—reserved for alumni board meetings and powerful student networks—Luo Zixuan stared at the screen in front of him.
"He embarrassed you," Zhou Qian said flatly, seated across from him.
Zixuan's jaw clenched. "It was just a simulation."
"No," she corrected, "it was a statement. And everyone heard it."
Silence fell between them.
Then a soft knock echoed at the door. One of the assistants stepped in. "Sir, there's someone from outside campus who's requested a meeting. He says he represents 'The Crimson Circle'."
Zhou Qian's gaze sharpened instantly. "Crimson Circle?"
Even Zixuan stiffened. "Why would they be interested?"
The assistant lowered his voice. "Apparently, they've been watching Lin Feng for a while now. And they're ready to make an offer."
That evening, in a more peaceful corner of campus, Lin Feng sat alone on the rooftop of the music hall, the city skyline flickering in the distance.
He wasn't surprised when Jiang Yue'er appeared again, this time holding two cups of milk tea.
"You always know where I am," he said without looking at her.
She handed him one of the cups. "You're predictable. But only to me."
For a while, they sat in silence, sipping their drinks. No pressure. No questions.
Then Jiang Yue'er said quietly, "You know this win… it won't go unnoticed. You've painted a target on your back."
Lin Feng smiled faintly. "Good. I was starting to feel bored."