Chapter 21: Phoenix Reborn, Dragon Chart Reincarnated
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After handing the completed form to the waiting attendant, Lu Mingfei looked at Su Xiaoqiang, whose face plainly said, “Are you kidding me?” He waved the invitation letter in his hand.
“Just kidding. I’m here for the interview too.”
“Tch. All you ever do is spout nonsense.” The Little Goddess held a grudge; she could not resist taking a jab at Lu Mingfei.
She was the only one who could get away with saying such things. Everyone else was mindful of their words and conduct before the interview, knowing they might well influence the final result, and so they behaved with extreme caution.
Before long, an eerie silence settled outside the conference room.
The atmosphere was as grim as an execution ground. Everyone sat rigidly upright, as if there were electric chairs beneath them and the slightest movement would earn them a vicious shock.
Lu Mingfei had once delivered an acceptance speech without changing expression under the intense gaze of ninety thousand spectators. Naturally, he was not about to be affected by the nervousness of a few youngsters.
At that moment, he was reading a novel on his phone—a novel he had once loved very much, *The Hidden Kill*.
It was the warm and affectionate daily life of a top assassin who had grown tired of killing, been reborn at the age of ten with the help of a phoenix, and gone on to share sweet, passionate days with two childhood sweethearts.
Back then, although Lu Mingfei was still unmarried, he had already found no opponent left in *StarCraft*.
From time to time, he would fantasize that if he could return to the age of ten, perhaps he could save his parents and then develop a little more-than-friendship with the beautiful older girl next door.
Unfortunately, reality had other plans.
“We’re both part of the Ming generation, and our marksmanship is equally divine. How did you end up with so much better luck than me?”
Comparing their respective circumstances, Lu Mingfei seriously suspected that he had simply never encountered a phoenix reborn from the flames.
“It must be Brother Huang’s jinxing taking effect. One dragon meme sent me straight here.”
He was muttering about how the Old Immortal had ruined him when the conference-room doors were pushed open.
“Has Liu Miaomiao arrived?”
A tall, slender young man stepped out. He spoke fluent Chinese and had a handsome, upright face that perfectly matched Chinese standards of beauty.
His dark-green suit fit him perfectly. Gold and silver shimmered at the collar and cuffs, while an embroidered crest of the World Tree—half withered, half flourishing—adorned his chest.
His overall appearance was remarkably similar to the outfit Chen Motong had worn when she first appeared at Shilan High School, except that he was not wearing a skirt or black stockings.
“Present!”
The pretty young pianist clearly had not expected to win the first draw. She sprang to her feet as if an instructor had called her name during military training, her voice trembling slightly.
“I’m your examiner, Ye Sheng. Please come with me.”
The handsome man named Ye Sheng smiled faintly. His snow-white teeth looked like a sharp blade suspended over everyone’s throats.
Under the anxious yet expectant eyes of the others, Liu Miaomiao walked into the conference room behind the examiner, her elegant figure resembling that of the first hero brave enough to challenge the Demon King.
The door closed. Those remaining exchanged glances, the tension on their faces as obvious as lipstick on a shirt collar.
“Did you search Cassel College online? I heard it’s a prestigious school. Apparently, a lot of Harvard professors transferred there to teach.”
Zhao Menghua lowered his voice and whispered with the two beauties.
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Chen Wenwen nodded. “But I never even applied. I just received an interview notice.”
“That’s how prestigious schools are. They don’t care about application fees; they only look at ability.” Zhao Menghua had his own sources of information. None of them had applied.
“If they only look at ability, how did someone like him get in?” Su Xiaoqiang shot a sidelong glance at Lu Mingfei. No matter how she looked at him, he irritated her.
“Quality education emphasizes the cultivation of ability and the development of individuality. Maybe they’re keeping up with the times and have just established an esports major.”
Lu Mingfei spread his hands helplessly.
He had no idea how he had offended the Little Goddess. She had to take a jab at him over everything.
Surely it was not because he had told a joke over dinner and somehow turned her into a pea shooter?
He remembered that the Little Goddess had always had a fairly high threshold for humor.
Had her taste deteriorated along with her aesthetics?
The three people beside him continued discussing how slim their chances were of being admitted to Cassel College. About ten minutes later, the conference-room doors opened again.
Ye Sheng held the door and gestured politely for someone to leave. Liu Miaomiao emerged, her face full of disappointment, her eyes slightly red. She appeared to have suffered a considerable grievance.
Zhao Menghua seemed about to offer a few words of concern, but before he could, she returned to her seat, picked up her schoolbag, and turned to leave.
It was as if she had made some sort of decision. She did not look back even once.
At the sight of this, everyone became extraordinarily vigilant, as though the conference room concealed some ferocious beast.
Holding a folder, Ye Sheng called out in a voice as calm as the King of Hell summoning souls for judgment:
“Su Xiaoqiang.”
The Little Goddess was no stronger than the pretty pianist. She rose with wide eyes and clenched teeth, her steps toward the conference room noticeably stiff.
Lu Mingfei found her appearance somewhat amusing, but he could hardly bring himself to laugh.
After all, if not for him, Su Xiaoqiang would never have appeared here. She would have been attending a lavish banquet in an extravagant evening gown, mingling with countless prominent figures alongside her tycoon father.
Thinking of this, he suddenly found the novel in his hands tasteless.
“What kind of college is this? Are they just messing with people?!”
Su Xiaoqiang lasted only five minutes before emerging with an expression of deep displeasure.
Ye Sheng still wore that courteous, gentlemanly smile, but it seemed to conceal more than one blade.
The next victim was Zhao Menghua. He exchanged a glance with Chen Wenwen, then vanished through the doors with the solemn heroism of a warrior departing for a deadly mission from which he would never return.
Su Xiaoqiang turned to leave, but as she passed Lu Mingfei, he stopped her.
“How did they mess with you?”
The Little Goddess assumed the scoundrel was trying to mock her. She was just about to roll her eyes and tell him to get lost when she looked up and saw that Lu Mingfei’s eternally foolish grin had, for once, been replaced by a trace of seriousness.
For a brief moment, Su Xiaoqiang felt that if she told him the truth, this sworn enemy of three years might charge in and unleash a furious tirade at the lunatic examiner inside—every sentence clean, and not a single repeated insult.
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But she soon came to her senses.
Lu Mingfei was merely a coward. His mind was filled with thoughts of how to serve Chen Wenwen hand and foot. There was no reason for him to flatter the mortal enemy of his goddess.
“You’ll find out when you go in yourself.”
She gave a cold snort, then hurried into the elevator and disappeared.
Lu Mingfei watched her vanish and silently sighed.
Two and a half minutes later, Zhao Menghua, reputedly the best speaker in his final year, was sent out. His eyes were vacant and his expression blank.
Those who knew he had gone in for an interview might have thought he had joined a palace-spy comedy as the emperor’s body double in bed.
To have held out for two minutes against the siege of three thousand monstrous beauties in the imperial harem—Young Master Zhao could at least be said to have lost with honor.
Unfortunately, that was not what had happened.
Ye Sheng’s voice did not fluctuate in the slightest. He behaved as though Zhao Menghua’s wretched state had nothing to do with them and called out the name of the next victim:
“Chen Wenwen.”
The refined young woman shuddered. She glanced at the dazed Zhao Menghua and at Lu Mingfei, who was still looking down at his phone, then gritted her teeth and walked inside.
For today’s interview, she had dressed up with unusual care. Normally casual in her clothing, she now looked exactly like one of those elegant and magnificent young ladies of the British aristocracy seen on television.
Fifteen minutes later, however, the figure who emerged from the conference room looked like Cinderella with a wicked stepmother.
She kept her head lowered as she walked, seemingly afraid to meet anyone’s eyes lest they see the embarrassment in hers.
She picked up her handbag and noticed that Lu Mingfei was still absorbed in his phone.
He had neither hurried over as he usually did to ask after her, nor shown any concern about how her interview had gone. He had not even tried to stand up for her, as he had for Su Xiaoqiang.
For no discernible reason, a hint of grievance and embarrassment welled up in the girl’s eyes.
But before she could approach and see whom that boy, who had always obeyed her in everything, was chatting with, Ye Sheng’s voice came from behind her again:
“Lu Mingfei.”
“Coming.”
Lu Mingfei muted his phone and brushed past Chen Wenwen.
He gave her a slight nod without looking aside, as if she were a complete stranger he had never known.
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