Chapter 13: I Have a Destiny with Xinjiang's Beauty

Zhang Yang unlocked the opportunity at Shanghai Theatre Academy only to find that it required him to bring a single book.

Feeling both surprised and intrigued, his mind immediately began turning, trying to predict what might happen.

Just like yesterday morning, when he knew he had to prepare for the Buddhist Scripture Pavilion, he’d guessed the kind of trouble Liu Shishi would face and made targeted adjustments to ensure he could secure the opportunity.

This time, the guideline was clear: bring his first-year Art Theory textbook. The event must involve some freshman—either a junior or a senior—forgetting their textbook, creating an opportunity for Zhang Yang to help.

But there was no way he’d foolishly show up with just any old Art Theory textbook; that would be too much of a coincidence.

Moreover, convincing someone to lend him this specific textbook required a bit of finesse.

For instance, if he tried handing over the pavilion directly to Liu Shishi yesterday and said, “Hey Po Shi-jie, you have relatives visiting, right? No pavilion, huh? Here, use mine.”

Liu Shishi would probably blush furiously and give him two huge slaps across the face.

“There’s plenty of time left,” he thought, “I can prepare ahead.”

“Come to think of it, I’m still the student council vice president. That title can open a lot of doors.”

Zhang Yang pulled out his phone, opened a QQ group chat, and began searching for someone who could provide him with the information he needed.

“Oh, it’s Lao Jiang’s class notes you’re after? No problem.” Zhang Yang quickly had an idea.

He first contacted another member of the student council and sent a message: “Hey, Old Xu! Heard your goddess agreed to watch a movie with you?”

Old Xu responded swiftly: “Goddess… Bro Yang, you’ve got quite the imagination! Manman is indeed my crush, and she did agree to go on a date with me. But here’s the catch—I have to deliver materials to the X Group mentors this afternoon. It’s driving me up the wall!”

Zhang Yang replied: “No sweat, buddy. Just organize those documents and leave them somewhere accessible. I’ll handle the delivery for you.”

Old Xu exclaimed: “Seriously?! You’re a lifesaver, Yifu!”

Zhang Yang chuckled: “Since you’re already calling me ‘Yifu,’ I guess I’d better be serious about this. Deal!”

Old Xu responded eagerly: “Thanks, Dad! If everything works out, I’ll definitely treat you to dinner with Manman.”

Zhang Yang replied casually: “Sounds good, sounds good.”

After agreeing on a meeting place and time with Old Xu, Zhang Yang put away his phone and shook his head subtly: “Dinner with Manman? Forget it. That meal won’t happen.”

That girl, Manman, he thought. She tried for acting but didn’t make the cut. Ended up switching to puppetry just to get into the Shanghai Theatre Academy. She’s got all the makings of a social butterfly.

When he first joined the Student Council, Manman had pursued him for a few days, but he had politely declined her advances.

In Manman’s eyes, Lao Xu could only be considered a decent lickspittle with no real chance of success.

The bicycle you can’t bear to ride, others can stand up and pedal—strangely enough, the bicycle seems quite content.

Zhang Yang returned to his dormitory with a hint of melancholy in his voice. He rummaged through his bookshelf, selecting several textbooks from his freshman year courses and stuffing them into his backpack. Then, he added a few more books from his second year.

With that task complete, he climbed into bed, grabbed a script, and began reciting lines, determined to commit every word and detail to memory.

Since his rebirth, it seemed as though his brain had undergone some special enhancement; he could now retain information almost effortlessly, as if blessed with a photographic memory.

Before long, it was already 2:45 PM.

Silencing his phone alarm, Zhang Yang sprang up, washed his face, touched up his makeup, and slung his bag over his shoulder before heading out of the student building.

At the counseling office, he retrieved materials Lao Xu had left ahead of time, then made his way to Classroom X in Building X.

Meanwhile, groups of students were leaving their dormitories, the library, or other classrooms, heading towards their next class.

Among them were a few strikingly beautiful girls who caught the attention of many nearby students, becoming a topic of conversation as they walked by.

“Is that one even Han Chinese?”

“I bet she’s Uighur, just like Dong Yaya.”

“Word is, there’re some seriously talented girls in this year’s acting program.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about three standouts: Dili Reba, Yuan Bingyan, and Zhong Chuxi.”

“Dili Reba? That must be the one we saw earlier.”

”…”

Faced with such attention, the trio had grown accustomed to it; their expressions remained unfazed.

A few minutes later, all the new 10th-grade acting students gathered in the multimedia classroom, preparing for their Art Theory course.

“No! How could I not have it?”

In the front row, Dili Reba, with her strikingly beautiful and exotic features, looked flustered as she rummaged through her handbag.

“Did you maybe leave it at the library?” asked a gentle voice beside her. It was Yuan Bingyan, her roommate and closest friend in class, with her high-bridged nose and eyebrows that seemed painted by an artist’s brush.

“It’s possible,” Reba said, smacking her forehead before setting down her bag. “I’ll go look now.”

“Hold on.” Yuan Bingyan gently restrained Reba’s hand. “Class starts in ten minutes. Rushing over now might make us late.”

“What should we do then?” Reba sounded anxious.

The teacher for “Introduction to Art Theory” was highly esteemed at school and notoriously strict.

If Huo Ba arrived late, she might give this teacher a bad impression.

A negative remark from such a respected educator could significantly impact her future career.

Yuan Bingyan suggested, “Why don’t we wait for the teacher to arrive? You can explain your situation first. We’ll share a book during class; I’m sure the teacher will understand.”

A glint of consideration flashed in Huo Ba’s eyes. At that moment, their roommate Cheng Chuyue spoke up, “The study representative mentioned in the group chat about an open-book quiz today. During the test, we have to sit apart. How will Huo Ba take the exam without a textbook?”

“Yanyan, please let the teacher know for me while I go find my book,” Huo Ba decided swiftly.

Choosing the lesser of two evils, reasoned Huo Ba—excused tardiness might not upset the teacher as much as failing the quiz would mar her academic record.

“All right, be careful on your way, and keep your phone with you,” Yuan Bingyan released her grip.

Huo Ba nodded affirmatively, grabbed her phone, and dashed towards the door with short strides.

She opened the door, ready to step out, only to find a tall boy standing there with his arms full of items.

Fortunately, she hadn’t rushed headlong through the door; otherwise, she would have collided squarely into him.

Still startled by this unexpected encounter, Huo Ba instinctively looked up to assess the stranger before her.

He was undeniably handsome, with deep-set black eyes and a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips that gave off a warm, sunny vibe.

Huo Ba felt that this boy was even more attractive than anyone she’d ever met before—the male classmates in her class paled in comparison.

Not only that, but she also found him somewhat familiar, as if they had crossed paths somewhere before.

This young man, naturally, was Zhang Yang—arriving precisely on cue to block her path.

“Hey, Huo Ba?”

Zhang Yang mentally noted what a coincidence it was.

Just two nights ago, he’d encountered Nazha for the first time.

And now, fate had presented him with another opportunity involving Huo Ba.

It seems my connection with Xinjiang’s beauties runs deeper than I thought.

The corner of Zhang Yang’s mouth curved upward even more as he gazed steadily into Huo Ba’s eyes. “Excuse me, classmate,” he asked, “with class about to start, where are you rushing off to?”