Sang Yaoyao woke to someone calling her stingy.
"Stingy human."
She opened one eye.
The room was still dark.
A faint gray light seeped through the thin curtains of her apartment, revealing the outline of her desk, the secondhand bookshelf beside the wall, and the laundry rack near the window.
"Stingy human," the voice repeated. "Wake up."
Yaoyao slowly turned her head.
A sparrow stood on the windowsill.
Its tiny claws tapped impatiently against the glass.
Behind it, three more sparrows waited on the fire escape.
One tilted its head.
"Maybe she is dead."
"She moved."
"Dead things sometimes move."
"No, they don't."
"My cousin flew into a window once. He moved afterward."
"Your cousin was not dead."
"He looked dead."
Yaoyao pulled the blanket over her face.
Last night had not been a dream.
The system was real.
The black card was real.
The twenty-one-thousand-yuan reward sitting in her bank account was real.
And apparently, so was the morning debate happening outside her window.
A soft white shape rose from the pillow beside her.
Mochi yawned and floated into the air.
"Good morning, Host."
"You sleep?"
"I enter a low-energy resting state."
"You were snoring."
"I was calibrating."
"You said 'more strawberries' in your sleep."
Mochi's round body became perfectly still.
"That information is classified."
The sparrow tapped the glass again.
"Stingy human."
Yaoyao sat up.
"Why are you calling me stingy?"
All four birds froze.
The first sparrow hopped backward so quickly that it nearly fell from the sill.
"She heard me!"
"The wet human!"
"It is her!"
"Ask about the bread!"
The first sparrow puffed out its chest.
"You ate bread yesterday."
Yaoyao stared.
"How do you know?"
"We saw you."
"You dropped three crumbs."
"We ate them."
"There were not enough."
The fourth sparrow spread its wings dramatically.
"We nearly starved."
"You are all still alive."
"Barely."
Mochi floated toward the window.
"They appear to have identified you as a potential food resource."
"I'm a university student. That was their first mistake."
She climbed out of bed and opened the curtain.
The sparrows pressed closer to the glass.
Yaoyao's apartment was only twenty-seven square meters.
The bedroom, living area, and kitchen occupied the same narrow space. A small bathroom had been built near the entrance, and the window overlooked the roof of an aging laundromat.
The rent was low by Cloud City standards.
That was its greatest advantage.
Its second-greatest advantage was that the ceiling only leaked during severe storms.
Yaoyao checked the corner above her bookshelf.
A metal bowl sat beneath a dark water stain.
Three drops had fallen overnight.
A manageable storm.
She opened the window slightly.
The sparrows immediately began shouting.
"Food!"
"Bread!"
"Rice!"
"Seeds!"
"Not worms!"
"I like worms."
"You have no standards."
Yaoyao held up a finger.
"One at a time."
They all began speaking at once.
She closed the window.
Silence returned.
Mochi nodded approvingly.
"Efficient management."
Yaoyao went to the kitchenette and opened the cabinet.
Inside were two packets of noodles, half a bag of rice, dried seaweed, oatmeal, and a nearly empty jar of peanut butter.
She looked into the refrigerator.
Lin Xiaoran's dumplings sat on the top shelf beside three eggs and a container of wilted vegetables.
There was nothing appropriate for birds.
"I don't have birdseed."
Mochi opened a small translucent screen.
"Millet would be suitable."
"You have access to information about bird diets?"
"I have access to most recorded knowledge."
"Do you know tomorrow's lottery numbers?"
"Yes."
Yaoyao turned sharply.
Mochi smiled.
"I am prohibited from telling you."
"That was cruel."
"It was informative."
She reheated the dumplings and ate four while standing near the counter.
The remaining dumplings went into her lunch container.
After a moment's hesitation, she crumbled a small corner of plain bread onto a plate.
When she reopened the window, the sparrows rushed forward.
"This is little."
"It is free," Yaoyao replied.
The birds became silent.
The first sparrow pecked at a crumb.
"Generous human."
"You changed your opinion quickly."
"Circumstances changed."
Mochi whispered, "He may have a future in politics."
Yaoyao nearly choked on her dumpling.
The sparrows finished the crumbs within seconds.
Before leaving, the largest one hopped closer to the open window.
"You gave food."
"Yes."
"We remember."
"That sounds threatening."
"It is gratitude."
The sparrow flew away.
Its companions followed, disappearing between the apartment buildings.
Yaoyao watched them go.
Animal Language was strange.
Inconvenient.
Loud.
But not unpleasant.
For most of her childhood, she had spent her quietest moments speaking to the stray cats that wandered behind Sunrise Children's Home.
She used to tell them about school, the younger children, and the families who came to adopt but never chose her.
The cats had always listened.
She had never imagined they might have been answering.
Mochi studied her expression.
"You are thinking about the orphanage."
Yaoyao nodded.
"I want to visit tomorrow."
"Weekends contain no mandatory main missions."
"I remember."
"You may visit without interference."
She glanced at him.
"That almost sounded considerate."
"I am always considerate."
"You activated yesterday's mission before properly explaining the contract."
"You completed it."
"That doesn't make it considerate."
"It makes it effective."
Yaoyao finished breakfast, showered, and dressed for class.
Her wardrobe offered few difficult decisions.
A cream blouse.
Black trousers.
A dark blue cardigan.
White sneakers that had been cleaned so often that the fabric had begun thinning near the toes.
Before leaving, she opened her banking app.
The balance remained unchanged.
Checking account: ¥23,728.37.
Home Fund: ¥126,430.
She stared at the new figure.
The reward still felt unreal.
Her first instinct was to transfer nearly all of it into the Home Fund.
Her thumb hovered above the screen.
Mochi floated beside her shoulder.
"You may save it."
"I know."
"But?"
Yaoyao lowered the phone.
"If the next mission requires twenty thousand yuan, the black card covers it."
"Correct."
"So I don't need to keep the reward available."
"Correct."
"I could add twenty thousand to the Home Fund."
"Yes."
She hesitated.
In the past, every unexpected payment had been protected immediately.
A translation bonus.
A scholarship refund.
A holiday gift from Director Chen.
Money was safest when she could not easily touch it.
But twenty thousand yuan could also pay for tutoring materials at the orphanage.
Or replace the old washing machine in the children's dormitory.
Or cover medical checkups.
Yaoyao transferred fifteen thousand yuan into her savings and left the rest in checking.
Mochi looked at the screen.
"You did not save all of it."
"I'm learning."
"Slowly."
"Don't ruin the moment."
Her Home Fund now held ¥141,430.
Still far from an apartment.
But closer than yesterday.
She smiled before locking the door behind her.
Outside, the corridor smelled faintly of laundry detergent and fried dough.
An elderly neighbor was struggling to carry a bag of groceries upstairs.
Yaoyao immediately took one side.
"Auntie Zhao, let me help."
The woman smiled.
"Thank you, Yaoyao. You're leaving for school?"
"Yes."
"You work too hard. Young people should sleep more."
"Mochi agrees."
The system widened his eyes.
"I have never said that."
Auntie Zhao looked around.
"What?"
"Nothing. I was thinking about breakfast."
The woman gave her a concerned glance.
"Make sure you're eating enough."
Mochi folded his arms.
"Everyone agrees with me."
Yaoyao ignored him.
⸻
Cloud City University was already crowded when she arrived.
Friday mornings were usually lively. Students gathered outside the lecture halls, discussing weekend plans, club activities, and unfinished assignments.
Yaoyao had just entered the Finance Building when Lin Xiaoran appeared from behind a pillar.
She wore a bright red coat and carried two cups of soy milk.
"You ate the dumplings?"
"Yes."
"All of them?"
"Most of them."
Xiaoran handed her a cup.
"I knew it."
"I saved some for lunch."
"You saved leftovers from leftovers."
"That is efficiency."
"That is a cry for help."
Mochi nodded.
"I like her."
Yaoyao glanced toward the floating system.
Xiaoran followed her gaze.
"What are you looking at?"
"A decorative light."
"There's nothing there."
"It must have turned off."
Xiaoran narrowed her eyes.
"You're acting strange."
"I got more sleep than usual."
"That explains nothing."
They entered the lecture hall together.
Lin Xiaoran had been Yaoyao's roommate during their first two years at university. She came from a comfortable middle-class family in the northern district and had moved back home after her father developed health problems.
Even after leaving the dormitory, she remained Yaoyao's closest friend.
She was cheerful, outspoken, and completely incapable of pretending not to care.
As they sat down, Xiaoran pulled a printed flyer from her bag.
"Are you going to this?"
Yaoyao looked at the title.
Cloud City Young Investors Forum
Hosted by the School of Business and the Cloud City Property Development Association.
The forum would take place that afternoon.
Several investment managers, entrepreneurs, and real-estate analysts were scheduled to speak.
One name near the bottom caught her attention.
Chen Zhiming — Senior Land Valuation Specialist, Municipal Planning Institute
"Professor Huang mentioned it last week," Yaoyao said.
"You should go."
"I have my internship."
"It starts at two. Your supervisor may let you attend because it's related to investment planning."
Yaoyao studied the flyer again.
The keynote presentation was titled:
Undervalued Districts and the Next Decade of Cloud City Development.
Mochi appeared directly above the paper.
A tiny golden light blinked near the words undervalued districts.
Yaoyao's eyes narrowed.
The system looked innocent.
"You know something."
"I know many things."
"About this forum?"
"Potentially."
"What kind of potential?"
"Attend and evaluate."
"That sounds like a mission."
"No official mission has been issued."
"Yet."
Mochi smiled.
The professor entered before Yaoyao could continue questioning him.
The morning lecture covered acquisition risk, capital structure, and the dangers of relying too heavily on optimistic market forecasts.
Yaoyao took detailed notes.
Halfway through class, Professor Huang presented a case study involving a failed commercial-development project.
"Why did the company collapse?" he asked.
Several students raised their hands.
"Excessive debt."
"Poor market timing."
"Construction delays."
"Political changes."
Professor Huang nodded.
"All contributed. But what was the original error?"
The room fell silent.
Yaoyao looked at the numbers on the screen.
"They purchased based on projected value instead of existing utility."
Professor Huang turned toward her.
"Explain."
"The land price assumed that a new transit line would be approved. Without it, the location did not have enough traffic to support the planned commercial complex."
"And?"
"The company structured its financing as if approval were guaranteed. They were not investing in the land. They were gambling on a government decision."
Professor Huang smiled.
"Exactly."
Li Wenhao, seated two rows ahead, turned slightly in his chair.
He was also an intern at Xinghe Group and had never hidden the fact that he viewed Yaoyao as competition.
"The decision only looks foolish because the transit line was rejected," he said. "If it had been approved, the company would have made several times its investment."
Yaoyao answered calmly.
"A good decision can still produce a bad result. A bad decision can also produce a profitable result. That doesn't make the risk analysis sound."
A few students murmured in agreement.
Li Wenhao's expression tightened.
Professor Huang looked pleased.
"Remember that distinction. Investment is not fortune-telling. Your job is not merely to predict what will happen. Your job is to survive when your prediction is wrong."
Mochi leaned close to Yaoyao's ear.
"He would make a competent system assistant."
"You're recruiting?"
"No. His compensation expectations would be unreasonable."
Yaoyao lowered her head to hide her smile.
After class, Professor Huang asked her to stay behind.
"I received your latest internship evaluation."
Yaoyao's fingers tightened around her notebook.
"Was there a problem?"
"Quite the opposite."
He handed her a document.
Her market analysis had been selected for internal review by Xinghe Group's deputy director.
"This is good," Professor Huang said, "but you should be careful."
"Careful?"
"Good work attracts attention. Sometimes positive. Sometimes not."
She understood immediately.
"Li Wenhao?"
"I did not name anyone."
"No, Professor."
He sighed.
"You are talented, Yaoyao. But talent without visibility can be buried beneath louder people."
She looked down at the evaluation.
Her supervisor had marked her as dependable, precise, and highly capable.
There was no mention that she had independently completed two forecasts credited to the project team.
No mention that she had corrected a costly pricing error.
No mention that she regularly stayed late.
Professor Huang tapped the forum flyer.
"You should attend this afternoon."
"I'm scheduled at Xinghe Group."
"I already spoke with your internship coordinator. The forum may count as professional development."
Yaoyao blinked.
"You arranged that?"
"I recommended it."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Don't thank me. Bring back useful notes."
As she left the lecture hall, Mochi floated in front of her.
"You are surrounded by people who recognize your value."
"Some of them."
"You sound surprised."
"I'm grateful."
"That is not the same as believing you deserve it."
Yaoyao slowed.
Mochi's expression remained calm.
"Today's lesson may not be limited to land valuation."
Before she could respond, a familiar chime rang inside her mind.
A golden screen unfolded.
Main Mission Activated
Friday Spending Mission
Spend at least ¥20,000 before 6:00 p.m.
Mission funds must create lasting or meaningful value.
Additional objective: Acquire something the Host would previously have considered unattainable.
Reward:
15× Cash Rebate
One Attribute Enhancement
One Random Asset Clue
Time Remaining: 06:42:18
Yaoyao stopped in the middle of the hallway.
Students moved around her.
Twenty thousand yuan.
Yesterday's two-thousand-yuan mission had felt overwhelming.
Today's requirement was ten times larger.
The reward would be at least three hundred thousand yuan.
She swallowed.
"Mochi."
"Yes?"
"What qualifies as unattainable?"
"That depends on what you believe you deserve."
"That is even vaguer than yesterday."
"The mission is designed for personal growth."
"I prefer missions designed with itemized guidelines."
"You study finance. I expected nothing less."
Lin Xiaoran appeared beside her.
"Why are you standing in the hallway?"
"I was thinking."
"About?"
"How someone could responsibly spend twenty thousand yuan in less than seven hours."
Xiaoran stared at her.
"Did you win a contest?"
"No."
"Inherit money?"
"No."
"Join a cult?"
"Definitely not."
Mochi looked offended.
"Our contractual structure is highly reputable."
Yaoyao continued, "It's hypothetical."
Xiaoran considered the question.
"I'd replace my father's old car."
"That costs more than twenty thousand."
"I'd use it as a deposit."
"Something with lasting value."
"Education."
Yaoyao looked at her.
Xiaoran shrugged.
"A professional certification. A good computer. Equipment for work. Something that helps you earn more later."
The answer was sensible.
A laptop would qualify.
Yaoyao's current one overheated during large financial models and sometimes shut down without warning.
A high-quality replacement could cost fifteen to twenty thousand yuan.
It would create lasting value.
It was also something she had repeatedly convinced herself she did not need.
"Would you spend that much on a computer?" she asked.
"If it helped my career and I had the money? Yes."
Yaoyao thought about the mission's additional objective.
Acquire something she had once considered unattainable.
Not unnecessary.
Unattainable.
Mochi watched quietly.
She checked the time.
The forum began in two hours.
There was an electronics store near the university.
"I need to make a stop before the forum."
Xiaoran's eyes lit up.
"Are you actually buying something?"
"Possibly."
"I'm coming."
"You have another class."
"I suddenly support independent study."
⸻
The electronics store occupied three floors of a shopping center across from campus.
Yaoyao had visited once before to compare laptop prices, then left after deciding that her old computer could survive another year.
A sales associate greeted them.
"What kind of device are you looking for?"
"Something suitable for financial analysis, data processing, presentations, and possibly business modeling."
The associate led them toward the premium laptop section.
Yaoyao's steps slowed when she saw the prices.
¥12,999.
¥16,499.
¥21,800.
¥28,600.
Her old laptop had cost ¥2,300 secondhand.
Xiaoran picked up a slim silver model.
"This one is beautiful."
Yaoyao looked at the specifications.
High-performance processor.
Thirty-two gigabytes of memory.
Large solid-state drive.
Extended battery life.
It could easily handle her work.
The price was ¥18,999.
Her chest tightened.
Even though the black card covered the purchase, years of financial caution did not disappear simply because a floating system told her to spend.
Mochi sat on the display sign.
"Your current laptop has crashed seventeen times in the past month."
"Were you observing that too?"
"I reviewed its system health."
"It still works."
"It wheezes when opening spreadsheets."
"Computers don't wheeze."
"Yours does."
The sales associate misunderstood her hesitation.
"We also have more affordable models."
Yaoyao almost followed him.
Then she remembered Professor Huang's words.
Talent without visibility could be buried.
Tools mattered.
Time mattered.
Reliability mattered.
She had spent years treating every personal comfort as wasteful.
But this was not comfort.
It was an investment in herself.
"I'll take this one," she said.
Xiaoran's mouth fell open.
The sales associate smiled.
"Excellent choice."
"I'll also need the professional software package, extended warranty, protective case, wireless mouse, and an external backup drive."
The associate's smile widened.
The total came to ¥22,476.
The mission required at least twenty thousand.
Yaoyao held the black card over the payment terminal.
Her heartbeat accelerated again.
The transaction was approved immediately.
A chime sounded.
Spending requirement completed.
Additional objective completed.
The Host acquired a professional tool previously rejected due to feelings of personal unworthiness rather than genuine financial impossibility.
Yaoyao stared at the final sentence.
"I did not feel unworthy."
Mochi raised one eyebrow.
"I felt practical."
"Persistent denial detected."
"Your system notifications are becoming rude."
Xiaoran leaned closer.
"Are you talking to yourself?"
"I'm processing the purchase."
"You spent more than twenty thousand yuan without fainting. I'm proud of you."
"I might faint later."
While the store prepared the laptop, Yaoyao transferred her files from the old device.
The associate offered to recycle it.
She refused.
It still had value.
She would clean it, replace the failing battery, and give it to one of the older students at Sunrise Children's Home.
Mochi smiled without commenting.
By the time they left the store, Yaoyao carried a sleek black laptop bag.
The purchase felt strange against her shoulder.
Too new.
Too expensive.
Too visible.
But beneath the discomfort was something else.
Possibility.
She could run larger models.
Complete assignments faster.
Take private analysis work.
Build investment proposals.
Perhaps even begin studying opportunities beyond her internship.
For the first time, the mission had not simply asked her to help someone else.
It had forced her to acknowledge that investing in herself could also create value.
The realization was more uncomfortable than spending the money.
⸻
The Young Investors Forum filled the university's largest conference hall.
Students occupied the back rows while professionals, small-business owners, analysts, and local investors sat nearer the stage.
Yaoyao and Xiaoran found seats near the aisle.
Mochi floated above the crowd, examining everyone.
"There are seven people in this room attempting to appear wealthier than they are."
"Don't judge people."
"Three are wearing counterfeit watches."
"That is not relevant."
"One watch is spelled incorrectly."
Yaoyao pressed her lips together.
"How does someone misspell a watch?"
"The brand name contains an additional vowel."
"Stop looking."
The forum began with presentations on commercial trends, consumer behavior, and urban redevelopment.
Most speakers offered polished but predictable advice.
Invest near transportation.
Diversify risk.
Research zoning.
Avoid emotional decisions.
Then Chen Zhiming, the land valuation specialist, took the stage.
He was in his late fifties, with silver hair and a quiet manner that immediately settled the room.
His presentation began with a map of Cloud City.
"The most expensive land is not always the most valuable," he said.
"And the least developed land is not always the cheapest."
He highlighted several districts.
"Value depends on connection. Roads, transit, utilities, population flow, government planning, and neighboring ownership."
The map shifted east.
A stretch of riverfront appeared.
Yaoyao leaned forward.
The district had once been industrial, filled with warehouses and unused freight yards. In recent years, luxury residential projects had begun appearing along the western edge.
Most investors believed development would continue gradually eastward.
Chen Zhiming enlarged a narrow parcel of land near the river.
It was irregularly shaped and bordered by several properties already owned by development companies.
"This parcel has changed hands twice in ten years," he said. "Both buyers considered it inconvenient. Too narrow for a large independent project. Too expensive for storage. Too restricted for heavy industry."
Mochi appeared beside Yaoyao.
The silver crescent on his forehead glowed.
The parcel on the screen matched the golden land she had briefly seen in his hidden map.
Yaoyao's pulse quickened.
Chen continued.
"Yet land should not always be judged by what it can support alone. Sometimes its value lies in what surrounding properties cannot do without it."
The map changed again.
Road access.
Drainage lines.
A proposed pedestrian corridor.
The narrow parcel sat between all three.
"If the neighboring developments are consolidated," Chen said, "this site becomes a strategic connection point."
A man in the professional section raised his hand.
"Are you suggesting investors purchase unusable land based on hypothetical consolidation?"
"No," Chen replied. "I am suggesting that investors learn to distinguish unusable from indispensable."
The room became quiet.
Mochi whispered, "Remember that."
Yaoyao did.
After the presentation, a list of upcoming municipal auctions appeared on the screen.
Most parcels were ordinary.
Commercial storefronts.
Small residential lots.
Former warehouse sites.
Then she saw it.
Eastern Riverfront Parcel E-17
Auction date: four weeks away.
Registration deposit: ¥200,000.
Estimated starting bid: ¥8,000,000.
Yaoyao almost laughed.
Eight million yuan.
Yesterday, thirty-two-yuan noodles had seemed too expensive.
The number belonged to another world.
Mochi opened a private screen visible only to her.
Strategic Asset Identified
Eastern Riverfront Parcel E-17
Current Market Perception: Low-value restricted land
True Strategic Rating: SSS
Potential Interested Parties: Multiple
Highest Compatibility: Lu Group Eastern Development Plan
Recommendation: Observe
Yaoyao read the final word twice.
"Observe?"
"For now."
"I couldn't afford the registration deposit."
"You could not afford yesterday's laptop either."
"The black card only works during missions."
"Correct."
"And mission rewards fluctuate."
"Correct."
"So why show me an eight-million-yuan property?"
Mochi smiled.
"To adjust the scale of your imagination."
On stage, the moderator thanked Chen Zhiming.
Applause filled the hall.
Yaoyao looked again at the riverfront map.
For most of her life, wealth had meant safety.
Rent.
Food.
Tuition.
A down payment.
A locked front door.
But the property on the screen represented something different.
Influence.
Leverage.
The ability to stand in a room with powerful companies and possess something they needed.
She had never imagined herself participating in an auction beside major developers.
She had never imagined owning land at all.
Mochi's words returned to her.
Adjust the scale of your imagination.
The forum ended shortly before five.
As attendees gathered near the speakers, Yaoyao approached Chen Zhiming.
Several professionals were already waiting to speak with him.
She remained at the back until he noticed the university badge on her cardigan.
"You're a student?"
"Yes, sir. Sang Yaoyao, Business Administration and Finance."
"What did you think of the presentation?"
"The eastern riverfront example was interesting."
"Only interesting?"
She considered her answer.
"The parcel's independent development value is weak, but its negotiating value may be significant. Especially if one owner already controls enough surrounding land."
Chen's eyes sharpened.
"Which owner?"
"I don't know."
"You didn't research it?"
"I only saw the parcel today."
"Then what makes you think there is one?"
"The proposed access route seemed too specific. Someone has likely been assembling adjacent sites with a unified development plan."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Good observation."
Mochi floated proudly beside her.
"My Host is exceptionally competent."
Yaoyao continued, "But buying it would still be risky. The owner of the surrounding land could redesign the project or refuse to cooperate."
"Correct."
"So its value depends on understanding the other party's alternatives."
Chen nodded.
"Land is often a conversation. Most people only study one side."
He handed her a business card.
"There is a public planning archive at the municipal library. Review the eastern-district development filings from the last five years."
"May I ask why?"
"You asked the right question. Find the answer."
Before she could respond, another group approached him.
Yaoyao stepped aside.
Xiaoran hurried over.
"What did he say?"
"He told me to research planning documents."
"That sounds like homework."
"It probably is."
"Academics are dangerous. They disguise unpaid labor as intellectual opportunity."
Yaoyao smiled and slipped the card into her new laptop bag.
Her phone vibrated.
The mission deadline had passed.
A golden screen appeared.
Friday Mission Completed
Required Spending: ¥20,000
Actual Spending: ¥22,476
Mission Evaluation: S
Evaluation Summary:
The Host acquired a durable professional asset with substantial educational and economic utility.
The purchase improves future efficiency, earning capacity, and professional independence.
The Host resisted the urge to select an inferior option solely because it cost less.
15× rebate activated.
Reward: ¥337,140
Yaoyao stopped breathing.
Her phone vibrated again.
Deposit received: ¥337,140
She opened the banking app.
The money was there.
Her checking balance now exceeded three hundred forty thousand yuan.
Even after seeing yesterday's reward, the figure felt impossible.
Three hundred thirty-seven thousand yuan.
More than she had ever earned in her entire life.
More than twice her Home Fund.
Enough to pay the registration deposit for the riverfront auction.
The realization sent a chill through her.
Mochi watched her face.
"Yes."
"I didn't say anything."
"You calculated it."
"The deposit is two hundred thousand."
"Correct."
"That doesn't mean I can afford an eight-million-yuan winning bid."
"Correct."
"You're being suspiciously calm."
"I am always calm."
"You became emotionally unstable over the name Mochi."
"That was a temporary calibration issue."
A second notification appeared.
Attribute Enhancement Available
Select one:
Professional Insight
Physical Endurance
Memory
Emotional Perception
Yaoyao studied the options.
All were valuable.
Physical endurance would help with her exhausting schedule.
Memory would improve her studies.
Emotional perception might help her understand people like Li Wenhao and her supervisors.
But the riverfront parcel remained in her mind.
"Professional Insight," she chose.
Golden light entered her eyes.
The world did not visibly change.
There was no sudden flood of knowledge.
Instead, she felt as though a layer of fog had lifted from her thoughts.
Connections became easier to organize.
Questions appeared more clearly.
What did Lu Group own?
Who currently held Parcel E-17?
Why was it entering auction now?
What approvals had already been filed?
What alternatives existed?
The enhancement did not give her answers.
It sharpened her ability to find them.
Mochi nodded.
"Appropriate choice."
The final reward appeared.
Random Asset Clue Generated
Clue: Sometimes the smallest door controls the largest room.
Associated category: Real estate
Associated district: Eastern riverfront
Estimated opportunity window: Thirty days
Yaoyao looked toward the conference screen, where the auction list was still displayed.
"Parcel E-17."
Mochi rocked gently in the air.
"Possibly."
"You already confirmed it was strategically valuable."
"I confirmed an asset. The clue may involve something else."
"You enjoy being difficult."
"It encourages independent thinking."
Xiaoran waved a hand in front of her face.
"Yaoyao?"
She blinked.
"Sorry."
"You've been staring at the wall for almost a minute."
"I was thinking about the auction."
"The eight-million-yuan land?"
"Yes."
Xiaoran laughed.
"Planning your first property empire?"
The question was clearly a joke.
Yesterday, Yaoyao would have laughed with her.
Today, she looked at the riverfront parcel and said quietly,
"Maybe."
Xiaoran's smile faded.
"You're serious?"
"I'm thinking."
"With what money?"
"That is currently the largest problem."
"Currently?"
Yaoyao adjusted the strap of her new laptop bag.
"One problem at a time."
⸻
That evening, she returned to Xinghe Group to submit her forum notes.
Most of the office had emptied.
Her supervisor, Manager Zhou, remained at his desk.
He accepted the notes without looking up.
"Leave them there."
Yaoyao placed the folder beside his computer.
As she turned to leave, she noticed a familiar chart open on his screen.
It was her retail-investment forecast.
Her name had been removed from the footer.
The title page read:
Prepared by Li Wenhao
She stopped.
Manager Zhou quickly minimized the file.
"Is there something else?"
Yaoyao looked at him.
In the past, she might have remained silent.
She needed the internship.
She needed the recommendation.
She could not afford conflict.
But Mochi's mission had forced her to confront a truth she had avoided for years.
She treated herself as if she were always the least important investment in the room.
Her work.
Her time.
Her future.
She protected everyone else from inconvenience while accepting it without protest.
Professor Huang's warning echoed in her mind.
Talent without visibility could be buried beneath louder people.
"That forecast is mine," she said.
Manager Zhou's expression hardened.
"It belongs to the department."
"The analysis was assigned to me, and I completed it independently."
"Internship work is company property."
"I understand. But Li Wenhao did not prepare it."
Manager Zhou leaned back.
"You should be careful about accusing colleagues."
"I'm stating a fact."
"Are you suggesting I don't know how to manage my own team?"
Yaoyao remained calm.
"No. I'm asking why my name was removed."
The office became very quiet.
A few remaining employees glanced toward them.
Manager Zhou noticed.
His tone changed.
"The file may have been mislabeled."
"Then I'll send the original version and revision history to you, Professor Huang, and the internship coordinator so the records can be corrected."
His face tightened.
There was no aggression in her voice.
No anger.
No threat.
Only a clear solution.
A documented solution.
The kind he could not easily oppose without revealing his intention.
After several seconds, he forced a smile.
"That won't be necessary."
"I prefer accurate records."
"I said it won't be necessary."
"Then please confirm the correction by email."
Mochi floated beside her shoulder, eyes bright with approval.
Manager Zhou stared at her as though seeing her for the first time.
"Fine."
"Thank you."
Yaoyao left the office.
Her knees felt weak by the time the elevator doors closed.
She pressed the button for the lobby.
Mochi circled her once.
"You were afraid."
"Very."
"You acted anyway."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Yaoyao looked at her reflection in the elevator doors.
The woman staring back still wore inexpensive clothes.
Her hair was tied in a simple ponytail.
Her shoes were worn near the toes.
But a new laptop rested against her shoulder.
A black card lay inside her wallet.
More than three hundred thousand yuan sat in her account.
And somewhere near the eastern riverfront, a narrow piece of land waited for an auction that could change her future.
"Because my work has value," she said.
Mochi smiled.
"Correct."
The elevator reached the lobby.
Outside, the rain had finally stopped.
Cloud City glittered beneath the clear night sky.
Yaoyao stepped onto the sidewalk and opened the municipal planning website on her phone.
The public archive contained thousands of records.
Permits.
Zoning applications.
Road proposals.
Environmental reviews.
She searched for the eastern riverfront.
One company name appeared repeatedly.
Lu Group.
Across the city, inside the top-floor conference room of Lu Group headquarters, Lu Jingshen stood before a digital model of the same district.
His assistant, Gao Lin, placed an auction report on the table.
"Parcel E-17 has attracted limited interest," Gao Lin said. "Most bidders consider the restrictions too severe."
Lu Jingshen studied the narrow strip of land glowing red in the center of the model.
"Limited is not none."
"Two small development firms downloaded the registration documents. Neither appears capable of bidding beyond ten million."
"And individual investors?"
"No serious candidates so far."
Lu Jingshen closed the report.
Lu Group had spent three years preparing the eastern riverfront project.
Residential towers.
A cultural center.
Commercial streets.
A riverside park.
Everything depended on connecting the northern road to the central development site.
Parcel E-17 was the cleanest route.
Without it, the project could proceed.
But at greater cost.
With delays.
Redesigns.
And months of additional approvals.
"Set the maximum bid at thirty million," he said.
Gao Lin hesitated.
"For land valued at eight?"
"For a connection worth several billion."
He understood immediately.
"Yes, President Lu."
Lu Jingshen turned toward the city lights.
He did not know that a twenty-one-year-old university student had just downloaded the same auction documents.
He did not know that she had earned her first three hundred thousand yuan that afternoon.
He did not know that a tiny floating system had identified his most strategically important parcel.
And Sang Yaoyao did not yet know that the man controlling the surrounding development had already decided he would not lose.
On her phone, the registration page opened.
Eastern Riverfront Parcel E-17
Registration closes in twenty-six days.
Yaoyao stared at the deposit requirement.
¥200,000.
Her finger hovered above the download button.
"Mochi."
"Yes, Host?"
"Do you think someone like me can really enter an auction like this?"
The tiny system looked at her for a long moment.
Then he shook his head.
"No."
Her hand fell.
Mochi continued.
"The person you were yesterday could not."
Golden light flickered around the silver crescent on his forehead.
"But you are no longer required to remain that person."
Yaoyao looked back at the screen.
Then she pressed Download Registration Package.
High above the eastern riverfront, a flock of birds turned beneath the moon.
The smallest door had not yet been opened.
But Sang Yaoyao had finally placed her hand on the handle.