Chapter 02
“Stop running! I told you, I’ll explain everything!”
“Initiating Level One Punishment!”
“Today’s matter is important! You can’t let yourself get dragged away—stop right now!”
“…Initiating Level Two Punishment!”
As the system’s final words fell, a wave of pain swept through Xing Shi’s body.
He was just two steps away from the wall when he abruptly veered into a nearby corridor, marked by a restroom sign—something he had spotted earlier.
Reaching the sink, he rinsed his hands and looked up at the face reflected in the mirror. It wasn’t unfamiliar; it was his own.
Xing Shi stared for a moment before turning and leaving.
From what he gathered during lunch, it seemed like nobody here recognized him. Since everyone was essentially a stranger, he took off his jacket, giving himself a quick “disguise,” and confidently returned to the dining hall, as if the man running earlier wasn’t him.
The Level Two Punishment had already ended, and the residual pain was completely manageable. The system couldn’t control his body, and its threats of obliteration didn’t seem as absolute as it implied. For now, it appeared to have no way to truly harm him beyond its punishments.
He mulled over these observations as he headed toward the drinks area.
The system was nearly disconnected from the shock. Seeing Xing Shi as lively as ever, casually pouring himself a drink, it cried out in frustration: “Even Level Two Punishment doesn’t affect you?!”
Any other host would have collapsed the moment it activated, so how could Xing Shi remain entirely unscathed?
It asked, “Is there something wrong with your nervous system?”
Xing Shi replied, “I have a high pain tolerance. Want to try Level Three?”
The system fell silent.
Xing Shi mentally noted that the punishment mechanisms were indeed conditional. “See? I’m fine even if I crash into a wall. Want me to prove it?”
The system immediately conceded: “Fine, I’ll tell you.”
Pouring a glass of juice, Xing Shi responded with a simple, “Mm.”
“Xing Shi, 19 years old, a freshman at Z University,” the system began in a calm tone now that it had capitulated. “During winter break, you were scouted while working a part-time job. You signed with June Cultural Media as a trainee. Today is your second evaluation and class assignment.”
Xing Shi interrupted, “What about university? Am I not attending anymore?”
“You are” the system explained. “The company is close to your school. You’ll train while continuing your studies.”
June Cultural Media, though established only two years ago, had risen rapidly.
The company managed a newly crowned Best Actor and several rising stars. Last year, trainees they promoted won first and fifth places on a wildly popular talent show. This year, various platforms were hosting more shows, and when the company announced its recruitment drive early in the year, applications poured in.
“The company also formed a scouting team,” the system added. “Candidates with exceptional potential are signed early—what Feng Zifan and the others referred to as ‘recruits.’”
“Everyone who passed the first evaluation must undergo a second one. Today is the last day. This afternoon, those who pass and the recruits will be assigned to classes for specialized training.”
Xing Shi asked reluctantly, “How long is the contract?”
“Five years,” the system replied.
“And how much to terminate it?”
“The official penalty exceeds a million, but June Cultural Media is reasonable. The fee can be negotiated amicably. For someone with your looks, though, it’ll still cost at least six figures.”
Xing Shi asked without much hope, “Can I afford it?”
“You can’t” the system replied bluntly.
Carrying a tray with small cakes and a plate of fruit, Xing Shi returned to his seat.
The system waited for him to speak, fearing he might try something rash again. Eventually, it ventured, “Being a star isn’t so bad. Lots of people will adore you, and you can make plenty of money.”
Fu Xiuning, overhearing the system again, didn’t look up.
There was a range limitation; he hadn’t heard the earlier conversation but had seen the host’s abrupt sprint into the corridor. The person had moved too quickly for him to see more than their back—black pants and a denim jacket.
Once the class assignments were announced, Fu Xiuning would know who it was.
Meanwhile, Feng Zifan and Da Zhuang, having finished eating, moved to fill the empty seat next to Xing Shi when he returned.
They had both noticed his earlier dash. “Why were you running? What happened?” they asked.
Xing Shi pushed his tray to the center to share the food and casually replied, “Suddenly felt nauseous, but it passed before I reached the restroom.”
Seeing him eat cake so nonchalantly, Feng Zifan believed him and shifted the topic back to class assignments. They also learned his name and confirmed he was a “recruit.”
Xing Shi clarified, “It’s not really recruitment. I just signed a few days before you. I got lucky running into a scout. If they had seen you two, you might’ve been signed too.”
Feng Zifan and Da Zhuang laughed but waved it off modestly.
“Looks are graded,” Feng Zifan said. “Standing next to you, we don’t compare. We don’t know how many recruits there are, but for the guys, two are obvious. Both arrived around noon, right? You were one of them?”
After consulting the system, Xing Shi nodded. “Yeah.”
Feng Zifan’s expression lit up with confirmation, and he lowered his voice. “The other one is to our left, two tables behind. Take a look—you’ll know who I mean.”
Xing Shi glanced back and immediately spotted someone sitting two tables away.
Despite the early spring weather, the young man had neatly folded his trench coat over the chair behind him, now wearing only a crisp white shirt.
The sleeves were neatly rolled up, revealing slender yet elegant wrists. His pale, long fingers held dark chopsticks, moving with refined ease as he ate. His face, though slightly pale, had a delicate charm enhanced by a touch of fragility. But his aristocratic aura, polite yet distant, made him unapproachable.
Meeting Feng Zifan’s expectant gaze, Xing Shi confirmed, “The one in the white shirt?”
Feng Zifan nodded enthusiastically. “Isn’t he striking?”
Xing Shi replied honestly, “Yeah.”
“You two are unreal,” Feng Zifan said with admiration. “No makeup needed, and you could debut on the spot. Fans will go crazy for you.”
Xing Shi didn’t respond, as the system was already urging him to befriend the other person.
“So, he’s Fu Xiuning?” Xing Shi asked internally.
The system confirmed, “That’s right. Look at him—he’s stunning, isn’t he?”
“Not a trainee, though,” it added. “He’s the owner of June Cultural Media. He’s probably here to observe you trainees, which is why he didn’t dine in a private room.”
It suggested, “Pretend you don’t know who he is and strike up a friendship. He might look out for you later at the company.”
Munching on a small cake while listening to gossip, Xing Shi replied, “He doesn’t seem like someone who makes friends easily.”
“You’re good-looking. Maybe he’ll like you,” the system pressed.
“You didn’t deny it,” Xing Shi noted, “so he must be hard to approach.”
The system paused briefly before calculating Xing Shi’s personality and approach. Concluding that persuasion was futile, it said matter-of-factly, “Of course, he’s hard to approach—he’s a mission target. Just being attractive won’t be enough. But go ahead and try if you don’t believe me.”
“I don’t need to try,” Xing Shi replied instantly. “I already know I’ll fail.”
“What?” the system sputtered.
“Maybe you should find another host,” Xing Shi suggested.
“…” The system replied reluctantly, “Once bound, the contract can’t be broken unless the mission is completed or the host dies.”
Xing Shi sighed in disappointment.
“Once the host successfully completes the mission, you can make a wish to the Main System,” the system explained. “As long as it’s not too outrageous, it’ll usually come true.”
Xing Shi finished his small cake and reached for the fruit plate.
The system, with a hint of smugness, added, “Keep eating, go ahead. But don’t think you’re the only host. Let me tell you, you were the last to be bound. The other hosts have already made contact with Fu Xiuning.”
Xing Shi paused as he speared a piece of fruit, then asked, “So, apart from me, there are other hosts in this world, and we all have the same target—Fu Xiuning?”
Sensing his interest, the system decided that a bit of provocation was working. It coolly replied, “Yes.”
Intrigued, Xing Shi asked, “Why Fu Xiuning?”
The system answered, “Because he’s antisocial. Remember the favorability score?”
“Minus five?” Xing Shi recalled.
“Correct. That’s his default favorability towards you. But don’t take it personally—he dislikes everyone equally.”
As they spoke, a commotion spread through the dining hall.
Feng Zifan inquired and learned that the downstairs practice room had opened. Trainees could familiarize themselves with the space while waiting for the class assignments.
Xing Shi, still halfway through his fruit plate, said, “You guys go ahead. I’ll finish up and catch up later.”
Feng Zifan and Da Zhuang exchanged a glance, then sat back down, deciding to wait for him.
Meanwhile, Xing Shi continued to listen to the system, which elaborated on the Fu family’s influence. Fu Xiuning would inherit vast resources and authority in the future. If he remained antisocial, the consequences could be terrifying.
Polishing off the last of his fruit, Xing Shi stood and remarked, “Then why don’t you just kill him or cripple him?”
The system replied, “Our mission is to save people. Taking a life isn’t something we do lightly.”
Xing Shi countered, “Hosts’ lives are lives too. Yet you punish us without hesitation and threaten us with obliteration.”
The system faltered, “That’s… just talk! Punishments are because we’re desperate… Look, there’s Fu Xiuning!”
At that moment, Fu Xiuning was heading for the exit.
The earlier disturbance had thinned the crowd in the dining hall. Upon hearing the system’s excited exclamation, Fu Xiuning glanced toward the dining area and saw three people walking out. His gaze naturally fell on the last one—a young man wearing black casual pants, a white hoodie, and carrying a denim jacket. This must be the host.
Called out by the system, Xing Shi lifted his head, locking eyes with Fu Xiuning.
Fu Xiuning took in the sight of Xing Shi’s face.
A high nose bridge, delicate and clean features—handsome and radiant, exuding youthful energy.
His gaze was calm, devoid of the restlessness typical for his age, carrying an unspoken sense of composure.
[Beep Beep]
[Current Favorability: -4]
Xing Shi: “?”
System: “!”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
Their eye contact lasted no more than a second before they both looked away.
Fu Xiuning continued walking, his gaze darkening.
The favorability program, which he often cursed for exposing him to risk, had betrayed him yet again. However, he hadn’t anticipated that one day his favorability score would rise because of a host’s appearance. After all these years, he’d thought himself immune to humanity’s charms.
Apparently, Xing Shi’s looks matched his aesthetic preferences. The thought of this same face potentially being corrupted by the host’s actions in the future filled him with disgust.
[Beep Beep]
[Current Favorability: -10]
Xing Shi: “…”
System: “?!”
The system had been overjoyed when Fu Xiuning’s favorability increased at first, ready to celebrate with metaphorical fireworks. But the sudden drop left it reeling. “Why?!”
Xing Shi, on the other hand, accepted the situation calmly. “It’s easy to understand.”
Fu Xiuning maintained his steady pace, curious to hear Xing Shi’s reasoning.
Xing Shi explained, “Beautiful things naturally attract appreciation. So, when he saw me, he thought, ‘This kid’s pretty handsome,’ and raised my favorability by one point to -4. Makes sense, right?”
The system agreed, “That makes sense, but why did it drop again?”
“Simple. A moment of awe invites contemplation,” Xing Shi continued leisurely, trailing behind Fu Xiuning. “You said he’s a bit of a weirdo. So, upon closer reflection, he realized I was even more handsome than him. That’s unforgivable—so, down to -10.”
System: “…”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
