Chapter 59: All Set (New Book, Seeking Monthly Votes)

Staring into the darkness that had overtaken the system in his mind, Li He was utterly bewildered.

What was going on?

He’d read plenty of novels in his previous life, but he’d never heard of a system malfunctioning so spectacularly.

So it really was a defective product!

“System?” Li He tried calling out to it in his mind, but no matter how many times he called, there was no response.

To be honest, Li He was starting to panic. Sure, he’d complained about this damn system countless times, but if he really lost it, he wasn’t sure he could handle that.

Just as he was starting to mourn his most pitiful transmigration, a synthesized electronic voice suddenly echoed in his mind:

[Ding—]

[System upgrade complete.]

[Negative Emotion System 2.0 at your service.]

Li He was stunned for three seconds before asking silently, “System, why didn’t you warn me before you upgraded?”

Traditionally, whenever something as critical as a system update was about to happen, the system would always inform the host in advance, so the host could prepare themselves and not be caught off guard.

System: [You didn’t ask.]

The answer was as straightforward as ever.

You didn’t ask, so I didn’t say.

Makes perfect sense… By now, Li He’s mental fortitude had been tempered by this system to a truly remarkable degree.

He asked, “System 2.0, do you have any new features?”

Usually, when a system upgraded, it would add new features and improve the old ones. But with this damn system’s unpredictable antics, Li He didn’t have high hopes. At this point, he’d be satisfied if the system could stop sparking and making strange noises during its lottery draws.

Li He suddenly realized he might be the host with the lowest expectations for their system.

He didn’t expect to receive hundreds of thousands of cash a day, didn’t ask for a secretary to be sent to him daily, didn’t demand immortality or cultivation…

All he wanted was for the lottery to stop shooting sparks and making scary sounds.

How pitiful.

System: [New feature: ‘Personal Customization.’]

The system’s reply was as concise as ever—never a word more than necessary.

Li He was momentarily speechless; he thought he must have misheard.

Since when did this damn system become so reliable?

He asked again, “System, what new features were added after the update?”

Li He focused all his attention, determined to hear the answer clearly.

System: [Host, if you have hearing problems, you might win a Super Hearing Capsule next time by forwarding koi fish for luck.]

Li He: ????

So after the upgrade, the new features were nowhere to be found, but the system’s attitude had grown even sharper.

As possibly the most pitiful host in history, Li He decided to skip the topic and asked, “How does the ‘Personal Customization’ feature work?”

System: [The host submits a request, and the system will screen and select targets that meet the requirements for you to choose from. Different targets consume different amounts of negative emotion value.]

With just a small shift in perspective, Li He immediately understood.

It was just like buying skins in a game—the more you paid, the fancier and rarer the skin; pay less, and you get the standard version.

Li He thought for a moment and asked, “Can I specify a song?”

He remembered the names of some songs from his previous life, but not all the lyrics. There were some he could sing a couple of lines from, but definitely not the whole song.

System: [System 2.0 does not currently support this function.]

Alright then.

I’ll ask again when 3.0 arrives… Li He consoled himself with a bit of dark humor.

After a moment’s thought, Li He asked, “System, I want to customize a sad love ballad for male low voice.”

This time the system didn’t reply, but directly brought up the negative emotion value interface.

I’m overthinking it… Only Li He, whose resilience had been forged through countless ordeals with this system, could endure such blatant disdain.

Any other host would have had their mental state shattered by now.

It was like imagining the future and agonizing over whether to buy a villa with a fountain pool or a sports car that would make heads turn, only for someone to come along and bluntly state, “Stop dreaming—you can’t afford it.”

Not that harmful, but deeply insulting.

At that moment, the dorm room door was pushed open and his rather ordinary-looking roommate, Xu Teng, walked in first.

He was no longer surprised to see Li He hanging around the dorm all day, but he couldn’t quite understand when Li He had started secretly studying so hard.

Xu Teng flopped directly onto the hanging chair, motionless. “I think I’m about to die from studying, Old Li. Do me a favor and call an ambulance—I’m not going to make it.”

“You could always have Fatty give you mouth-to-mouth. It’s fast and very effective.” Li He offered a suggestion.

At the sound of his name, Fatty propped his feet up on the chair, leaning back and saying, “Xu, you can trust me.”

“Get lost, you monster,” Xu Teng replied, utterly defeated.

Fatty was in high spirits—clearly, his revision was stress-free, and he was supremely confident about the exams. Li He asked him, “How’s your revision going?”

“Solid,” Fatty replied with conviction.

That sounded familiar… Li He turned away, deciding to remain silent.

At this moment, Xu Teng rolled over in the hanging chair, shifting from a lounging sit to lying face down.

Resting his chin on the chair’s bar, he said, “Let’s go see a movie after the exams, reward ourselves for all the nights we’ve stayed up revising.”

Fatty responded, “I’m down.”

Li He was puzzled. Wasn’t going to the movies usually something couples or girlfriends did together? Three guys going to the cinema together, arms slung around each other’s shoulders—it was a bit odd.

Besides, Xu Teng had a girlfriend, and so did Fatty.

From the patchy memories left by the original host, Li He knew he was the only single in their dorm.

Was it the new trend for guys to see movies with their roommates instead of girlfriends? Li He asked, “Aren’t you two going with your girlfriends?”

Their responses stunned Li He.

Xu Teng, still sprawled on the hanging chair, replied calmly, “We broke up.”

Fatty glanced at Xu Teng, then added, “Me too.”

Li He was floored.

A breakup was ordinary enough, but both of them at once? That was just weird.

Unaware that Li He was already spinning an eighty-episode drama in his head, Xu Teng continued, “I saw the trailer for Guardians. The special effects look amazing! The beasts look so real, just as good as those big-budget foreign films.”

The trailer’s out already? Having read the movie’s plot in his previous life, Li He warned, “Trailers always show the best parts—don’t be fooled.”

He knew the general storyline. Whether or not the special effects were good, the fact that a foreigner became the key to defeating the beasts and saving the empire was something most people in Xia would never accept.

In foreign films, the hero who saves the world is always one of their own. But when it came to a Xia-made film, the hero was still a foreigner.

It was absurd.

That was how it had been in his previous life.

The cast was ridiculously star-studded, the effects were impressive for a domestic film—and if not for the infuriating plot choices, Li He would have liked it.

But that was not the case.

Fatty disagreed. “I don’t care about Guardians. Saving the world and all that—so boring.”

He paused, then suggested, “I think Youth With You is pretty good. High school romance—it’s what dreams are made of.”

Watching Fatty’s lecherous grin, Li He shuddered.

Xu Teng, a staunch supporter of Guardians, insisted, “Guardians had a billion invested—huge scenes everywhere. You’ll regret not seeing it.”

I’m afraid you’ll regret it even more after you do… Li He worried for his friends.

If he knew that the film he was looking forward to most would ultimately have a foreigner as the key to saving the world, would he still be so eager to support Guardians?

Xu Teng continued, “And this movie is Shengshi Entertainment’s grand entrance into the film industry. There’s no way it’ll be bad.”

“I checked the cast—several award-winning actors, some of the hottest young stars… the line-up is unbelievable. How could it not be good?”

“And if it’s not?” Li He asked reflexively.

“If it’s bad, I’ll stay single for a year,” Xu Teng replied, also on instinct.

No threats of eating something disgusting upside down or streaking live on camera… Li He was a bit disappointed; the vow wasn’t exciting at all.

His roommates were too conservative.

He thought for a moment, then asked, “When does the film come out?”

Xu Teng answered immediately, “July 2nd.”

July 2nd.

The movie was set for July 2nd, and Shandong Provincial Academy of Arts’ summer break started on June 27th.

There were only three or four days in between—not much.

But it would be tight—he’d promised Deng Qin he’d report to Shengshi right after the exams.

Exams ended June 27th; take his sister out for dinner on the 28th; by the 29th, he’d be flying out—he wouldn’t even be in Quancheng.

What a pity, he couldn’t see the movie… Concealing his inner joy, Li He put on a look of regret. “I won’t be in Quancheng on July 2nd, so I can’t go with you.”

Xu Teng asked, “Where are you going if not Quancheng?”

Both Li He and Fatty were from Quancheng; otherwise, they wouldn’t have suggested going to the movies together after the exams.

Basically, anyone who wasn’t local would leave school right after exams—if not that day, then the next or the day after.

“I’m working over the summer, in Qingcheng,” Li He explained. “I have to leave as soon as exams are over.”

“When the new term starts, we’ll be seniors,” Fatty said with a tinge of sadness. “I guess I’ll look for a summer job, too.”

My job might not be quite what you think… Li He, ever modest, kept that to himself.

Soon enough, finals arrived at Shandong Provincial Academy of Arts, to the ‘delight’ of all students.

Li He had no exams that morning in his major, so he stayed in the dorm to rest—but not for long before the shameless one called him on WeChat.

As soon as he picked up, He Luo’s wailing filled his ears. “Old Li, I swear the school is targeting me. Nothing I revised came up, and everything I didn’t study was on the test. They’re out to get me!”

Li He glanced at Fatty, remembering that only days before, this guy had also been full of confidence.

He comforted his friend, “Don’t worry, that’s just the first exam.”

After a pause, he added, “You’ll find that every exam perfectly avoids what you revised.”

“Old Li, shut up,” He Luo snapped, hanging up immediately.

If his friend kept talking, he might as well give up and wait to flunk.

In the days that followed, Li He got busy too.

Third-year courses weren’t many, and there were even fewer exams. But the scheduling was odd—one exam in the morning, the next not until the following afternoon.

As time passed, the end of exams drew near.

In recent days, Fatty had grown uncharacteristically quiet, his mood rather low.

Just like He Luo, when he realized his exams weren’t as ‘solid’ as he thought.

Li He, on the other hand, felt nothing about the exams—with the Advanced Memory Capsule’s cheat-code effect, it was hard to fail even if he tried.

To keep a low profile, Li He even deliberately answered a few questions wrong.

But he didn’t tell He Luo about this little secret—he was afraid his friend couldn’t handle the blow.

I really am too considerate… Li He shamelessly praised himself.

———

PS. Posted first, will revise later.