One hundred yuan (14 USD) an hour—now that was something. For Liu Dan, who was desperately short on cash, it felt like he'd just struck gold. He started doing the math: "Eight hours a day, that's 800 yuan... 24,000 a month... close to 290,000 (41,428 USD) a year!" His imagination soared.
Of course, he conveniently forgot that a bar only needed staff during peak hours—maybe two or three hours a night. And that he was still a full-time student, not exactly swimming in spare time. But hey, a guy could dream.
Grinning from ear to ear, Liu Dan strolled back into the dorm. Inside, Gao Wei and the other two were glued to their screens, deeply immersed in the latest RPG sensation: Sengoku Warriors. Liu Dan hadn't played it, but he'd watched them often enough to know it had dazzling 3D graphics and smooth gameplay.
Eventually, the three noticed him standing off to the side, grinning like an idiot.
"Whoa, Boss—what's with that creepy smile? You score with some hottie or what?" Gao Wei teased, eyes still on his screen.
"Yeah, c'mon, share the love. We're all in this together, remember?" Zhang Tian chimed in, all mock solemnity.
"Knock it off. I didn't meet anyone—I found a job." Liu Dan grinned proudly.
He had always been open with them—even about his past. If he hadn't told them, they might've assumed he came from a happy family. After all, he always wore that calm, warm smile, the kind that made people feel at ease.
That same smile, along with his military training performance, had made him a magnet for the girls in class. Thankfully, none of them had the kind of charm—or danger—that Huang Jing or Feng Qin possessed. Otherwise, Liu Dan would've been in real trouble.
At midnight, Liu Dan quietly got up, slipped out of bed, and headed for the rooftop. He'd chosen these late hours to train in secret, when no one else would be around.
It was the fifteenth of the lunar month. The full moon glowed brightly, casting a silver sheen across the rooftops. Standing atop the seven-story dorm, Liu Dan felt strangely close to the moon. The serenity washed over him.
Without him even noticing, the mysterious technique within him began to circulate slowly—but far more efficiently than when he practiced consciously. If he'd been aware, he'd have realized that with each cycle, the energy channels in his body were becoming wider, stronger.
He stood motionless, unknowingly training, bathed in moonlight. If anyone had seen him, they would've noticed a thick beam of silver light pouring down on him from the moon, while his body emitted a deep, shimmering blue aura—far brighter than when Huang Jing had seen it.
The energy spread outwards in invisible ripples, disturbing someone else nearby—someone who was also quietly training.
The moon shifted westward.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by a faint whistling wind, growing louder. Liu Dan snapped out of his trance. He opened his eyes just in time to see a figure darting across a nearby rooftop—fast and silent.
Without a second thought, Liu Dan bolted back toward his dorm.
Moments later, a figure landed on the rooftop where he had just been standing—a woman in black, dressed like a ninja.
She scanned the empty rooftop and frowned. Stamping her foot, she pouted, "Damn it! Next time, you won't get away."
And then she leapt away, vanishing into the night with fluid grace.
Back in bed, Liu Dan lay wide-eyed, heart racing. That was way too close. If he'd been a second slower... Nope. From now on, he'd find a better place to train. Maybe the wooded hill behind the dorm.
He'd returned earlier than usual—normally he came back around five. Not that he needed to sleep. A full night of training left him more refreshed than a night in bed, and his energy levels were off the charts.
"Who was that?" he wondered. "Another student? Is everyone around here secretly training martial arts?"
He was beginning to realize the world might be full of hidden talents. Still, compared to that mystery figure, he was a long way off—he couldn't leap between rooftops like that. But his own progress was enough to classify him as... well, not normal.
Just the other day, he'd gripped a steel railing too hard and left a dent. He spent the whole day worrying someone might notice. And when the new textbooks arrived, he casually flipped through one—and somehow memorized it cover to cover.
He kept thinking until sleep finally overtook him.
"Boss, let's go shoot some hoops!" It was a light day, with only one class in the afternoon. Afterward, Zhang Tian was itching to play, claiming it was time to show off his skills.
"Hah, don't embarrass yourself," Gao Wei snorted. "With your build? Please."
"I challenge you to a one-on-one," Zhang Tian shot back, all fire.
"Let's go already," Liu Dan said, stretching. He still had hours before work, and a bit of movement sounded nice. He actually liked basketball—it was just that he rarely had time for it.
"Count me out," said Xiao Pang. "I'll stick to gaming. Real men use their brains, not their legs."
The other three rolled their eyes and left without him.
As expected from a top university, Xinhua's courts were immaculate—soft rubber surfaces that made even a fall feel safe.
By the time they arrived, the courts were buzzing. Some girls were playing too, their long legs on full display. Zhang Tian and Gao Wei practically started drooling. Liu Dan kept his distance, pretending not to know them.
Most games were half-court three-on-threes. First to four points won, then the next team stepped in.
One court was drawing a crowd—especially girls. Clearly, something exciting was happening. Without hesitation, Zhang Tian dragged Gao Wei over and signed them up to play.
One team had already won several rounds. A guy in a black jersey stood out—about Liu Dan's height, lightning-fast, excellent jumper, and deadly accurate. The other two were solid players too.
They won again. Now it was Liu Dan's turn.
"I'll guard the guy in black," he told the others. They trusted him.
First possession went to them. Liu Dan passed to Zhang Tian to get a feel for their coordination.
Zhang Tian advanced calmly, then suddenly feinted forward. His defender stepped back instinctively—only to realize Zhang Tian hadn't moved an inch. Then—bam—Zhang Tian was gone, leaving the defender in the dust. Three quick steps to the rim, soft layup off the glass. Smooth as silk.
Then it was the other team's turn.
The black jersey guy took the ball, dancing with it like a street magician. Then he charged forward, rising high into the air.
Liu Dan reacted instinctively—he jumped.
And everyone on the court gasped.
He soared—at least a meter and a half off the ground—right in front of the shooter.
The guy had nowhere to go. Eyes wide, he flung the ball away in panic.
Game over. Liu Dan's team won, 4–2. He dunked once, Zhang Tian scored twice, and Gao Wei slipped in a point while everyone else was distracted.
They kept playing. With Liu Dan's ridiculous vertical and Zhang Tian's agile drives, they steamrolled through match after match, even when other teams tried to gang up on them.
After seven or eight games, Gao Wei and Zhang Tian were wiped out. They could barely stand, let alone defend. Liu Dan called it, and they took a break.
The guy in the black jersey walked over.
"You guys are freshmen, right? Haven't seen you around before."
"Yeah, first years," Liu Dan replied, wiping sweat from his face. "First time playing here."
"I'm Li Mingkuan, point guard on the school team. You guys interested in joining? I could put in a word."
Liu Dan glanced at Zhang Tian. "Let us think about it. We'll get back to you in a couple of days."