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墨書 Inktalez
As night fell, it signified not only that some people, who lived their lives for the sake of survival, should return home to rest and prepare for the monotonous and tedious routine of the next day, but also that another group of individuals, who lived for the same reason, were just beginning their day.
For the entire Lake City, it was merely a shift change as a new batch of people continued to maintain the vibrant atmosphere of the city. The nightlife in Lake City was a thousand times more bustling than during the day.
The streets were filled with the sounds of vendors calling out their wares and families joyfully wandering about, adding a unique vibrancy to Lake City.
At that moment, I sat in a taxi, taking in the scene before me, and couldn’t help but sigh at how long it had been since I visited downtown. I hadn’t expected it to be so lively.
The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror and remarked, “Ah, downtown is always congested. It’s either stuck in traffic or on the way to being stuck. By the way, young man, where do you live?”
I could see part of the driver’s face in the mirror; he looked considerably older than Old Zhao, with a simple and honest expression that made it clear he was one of those straightforward types. I’ve always had a good impression of such people.
“Uncle, I live in West City District.” I took off my hat to appear more approachable.
As soon as I removed my hat, the driver looked at me through the rearview mirror—my buzz cut and the scar on my head made him fall silent when he learned I lived in West City District.
I simply put my hat back on and resumed looking out the window. I couldn’t blame him; Old Zhao’s reputation was quite intimidating for someone of his age group.
In the west was West City District with Zhao Feng Gou, and in the east was Ouyang Xiong from East City District. This was something they felt deeply.
When I arrived at Lakeside University’s entrance, it was a completely different scene from what I had seen yesterday; it was brightly lit with banners hanging and colorful lights strung up.
Upon entering through the main gate, I had to report my student ID to security to prevent any outsiders from sneaking in. Without a second thought, I knew this had to be the work of Ouyang Zhirou from yesterday.
As I suspected, this was indeed arranged by a security company hired by the principal.
After verifying my identity, security allowed me to pass.
I initially thought I would have to ask someone for directions again since I had rushed through yesterday and couldn’t remember how to get around. However, there was a red carpet laid out leading to the venue.
It all seemed quite grand. As I walked toward the venue while admiring the school’s architecture that I hadn’t had time to appreciate yesterday, those who had been standing nearby earlier looked at my casual attire—short sleeves, shorts, and flip-flops—and one of them remarked sarcastically about how grand it all seemed. They mocked me collectively: “Isn’t he just some country bumpkin? Everyone else is dressed up except him! If it were me, I’d be too embarrassed to step through those school gates.”
I remained oblivious to all their mockery.
People continued to trickle into the venue outside as I leisurely strolled toward the entrance.
“Hello! This is the Welcome Party; only new students and teachers are allowed inside,” said one of the staff members.
I anticipated this situation; maintaining a calm expression, I reported my student ID and even underwent a quick photo comparison before they reluctantly let me in.
Looking around at all the people seated inside, I momentarily didn’t know where to sit when a girl responsible for welcoming guests approached me and asked, “Hello! Which department are you from?”
Economics
Oh, the table closest to the stage in the discussion area, she pointed to the table I was at.
Hearing this, I couldn't help but curse under my breath. No wonder Economics was the most expensive major in the whole school; it attracted people like this.
Without thinking, I blurted out a response, completely unaware of whether she was a senior or someone invited by the school. "Thank you, Senior."
As I walked over, I noticed there were already some people seated there.
"You must be Zhao Lun?"
Before I could say anything, a boy dressed in formal attire, looking no different from a waiter at a high-end restaurant, spoke to me with a slightly aggressive tone. He appeared somewhat frail and his accent didn't sound like he was from the south.
"That's right, it's me. What's the matter?"
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