Chapter Seventy-Three: Inviting the Great Deity

On the morning of the 25th, as the bell signaling the end of the last class rang, Su Tong, who had been studying in the system space, was awakened by the little demon.

“Sixth, you haven’t looked well for a while, ever since the start of the semester. What’s going on? It’s not like you stay up late, except for those two weekends you disappear... Oh, I get it. You really should show some restraint—you can’t just squander your youth like that. I’ve seen your girlfriend; she doesn’t look twenty-four or five, more like just over twenty, but she’s as fierce as a tiger or wolf. Isn’t it supposed to be thirty for wolves, forty for tigers?”

Su Tong had just returned from the system space, so his expression was naturally poor, which made the tall guy beside him look on with concern and confusion.

From his perspective, Su Tong was either napping secretly during class or falling asleep the moment he leaned back. With such a penchant for sleep and such a pale face, it was only natural for the tall guy and the others to imagine something else.

Every week, Sister Yaya would come to pick up Su Tong. Last week, his roommates had secretly followed him and met her. Since then, the whole dorm considered him their public enemy.

If these guys knew that he actually went to see the little diva Yang Feifei each time, who knows if they’d run him through with a sword.

“You guys are hopeless. Yaya and I are pure; we haven’t crossed that line yet,” Su Tong laughed.

“Ehh—”

“Who believes that?”

Everyone scoffed. Regardless of whether Su Tong could restrain himself, with such a beautiful boyfriend, his girlfriend probably couldn’t, either.

It’s human nature to love beauty; who wouldn’t want to possess something so wonderful?

Indeed, Sister Yaya was Su Tong’s goddess. Facing her, he always lost his composure. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her, even confessed to using her as a shield to fend off his classmates’ endless questions. When she heard, she only smiled and said nothing, keeping their distance and relationship unchanged.

“Let’s go, let’s eat. I’m starving,” the tall guy led the charge, and the six roommates left the classroom in a grand procession.

But hardly had they stepped out when they spotted a few male students waiting by the door.

“Hello, Su,” said the bespectacled student, stepping forward, a little excited and a little awkward.

The tall guy and the others looked on in confusion, but soon he and Shao Sheng recognized one among them.

Su Tong scanned the group and recognized Ding Wei.

What did they want from him?

Seeing the greeting, Su Tong extended his hand, “Hello, how can I help you?”

The student looked embarrassed, glancing at Ding Wei and the others.

Ding Wei’s face was anything but natural. That big-bottomed girl must have been with too many guys or had an abortion, and now she’d forced their group to come here.

“Uh…” Lu Liang started with difficulty, “Well, you probably know we’re from the school’s Arts Committee. About tonight’s freshman welcome gala—we hope you’ll perform.”

After saying this, Lu Liang felt as if he existed in two realms: one where he’d ascended to immortality, light as a feather; the other, where his face was so thick bullets couldn’t pierce it.

Su Tong’s roommate Li Hua and the others were stunned. What’s going on? They cut him, and now they come back begging? Are they masochists?

“Did something go wrong with the rehearsal? Someone can’t perform?” the tall guy asked.

“No,” Lu Liang replied, immediately regretting it—damn, that would’ve been the best excuse. Why couldn’t he learn?

“Are you joking? You cut me when you wanted, now you want me back? You might have had that right before, but not anymore,” Su Tong refused without hesitation. When he was cut, he hadn’t minded much, but Tang Yan had been furious—much more upset than he was.

“Nian Nujiao, it wasn’t us who cut you—it was those girls. The guy competing with you in that song is one of their boyfriends. It had nothing to do with us; we’re just here to invite you,” another member of the Arts Committee explained, feeling clever for shifting the blame to the girls.

“Nian Nujiao? That name sounds familiar,” the tall guy and the others blinked in confusion.

“What did you just call our Sixth?” Dorm leader Pang Chong, his bulk quivering, asked.

Lu Liang and the others were shocked. Even Nian Nujiao’s roommates didn’t know Su Tong was the real deal.

This Nian Nujiao hid himself well.

Ding Wei and the others had looked up Nian Nujiao’s background last night. The result left them astonished—not just at his talent, but that a single song, “I Believe,” was enough to astound them.

“‘I Believe’—Su here wrote and sang the original. Didn’t you guys know?” Lu Liang finally felt justified; even his roommates didn’t recognize him, so he couldn’t be blamed.

Still, thinking back, humiliation surged within him—it was like kicking away a genuine treasure and shamelessly propping up a fake, only to realize the mistake after even the principal was alerted.

“Sixth, you…” Pang Chong and the others looked Su Tong over, unable to believe it.

“Sixth, are you really the original singer of ‘I Believe’?” the tall guy asked, eyes wide.

“You’re really Nian Nujiao?” Pang Chong asked in shock.

“Yes,” Su Tong replied with refreshing honesty.

“You… damn, why didn’t you say so?” The tall guy and the others pounded the wall in frustration.

“You never asked,” Su Tong laughed, then turned to Lu Liang and the others. “It wasn’t you who cut me, so why are you inviting me? I have plans tonight, I can’t make it.”

With that, Su Tong headed for the stairs.

Ding Wei and his group looked blue and pale by turns. They were clearly in the wrong. A ‘celebrity’ like him should have been on stage—they’d cut him out of spite, only for the principal to intervene.

If only they’d known, they wouldn’t have done it. Now they could only suffer in silence.

“We have no choice. Let the female committee members handle it. Hmph, they’re partly to blame, too.”