6:00 AM

The faint vibration of the bedframe roused Liu Rui from his half-sleep. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he scanned the room for the source of the disturbance—only to see Lu Zhou climbing down from the top bunk with a ladder in hand.

"Mornin’, Zhouzi," Liu Rui mumbled sleepily. "Up this early?"

Mindful of their two still-sleeping roommates, Lu Zhou replied in a hushed voice, "Mhm."

Liu Rui pressed further. "Still pulling part-time shifts?"

After a brief pause, Lu Zhou shook his head. "Nah. Taking a few days off."

"Then where you off to at this hour?"

"The library."

Liu Rui’s drowsiness vanished instantly.

After a quick stop at the washbasin to brush his teeth, Lu Zhou took a detour to the restroom. Emerging, he spotted Liu Rui already halfway out of bed.

"You’re not sleeping either?" Lu Zhou asked, puzzled.

"Reviewing," Liu Rui grunted, grabbing his toothbrush and sprinting to the balcony washbasin.

Watching his roommate’s panicked scramble, Lu Zhou shook his head with a wry smile. No words were needed. He laced up his shoes, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and headed out.

June in Jinling was an inferno—except between 5 and 6 AM.

The air carried the crisp scent of morning dew, and the occasional breeze was refreshingly cool, devoid of the day’s oppressive heat. The campus at this hour resembled a demure maiden emerging from twilight, a world apart from its evening persona.

After grabbing two steamed buns and a soy milk at the cafeteria, Lu Zhou strolled toward the library.

As expected of a nationally renowned university, the library staff hadn’t even arrived yet—but the outdoor plaza was already dotted with students reciting texts. Lu Zhou joined them, pulling out his CET-4 vocabulary booklet. Though not as effective as studying inside the library, the ambient academic atmosphere still made for decent revision.

He waited until 7:30 AM for the staff to finally unlock the doors, then joined the tide of students flooding in. Instead of diving straight into the books, he browsed the shelves and selected Advanced Algebra by Tu Boyun before settling into a quiet corner.

Lu Zhou had calculated that, in his deep-focus state, mastering a single unit of knowledge took roughly one to two hours—covering memorization, mental calculations, and problem analysis.

Judging by the remaining pages, Mathematical Analysis would last him until noon at most. After lunch, he planned to tackle some gaps in his algebra knowledge.

Taking a deep breath, he reopened the book to where he’d left off yesterday and submerged himself in the text once more.

Soon, he slipped back into that blissful state of total absorption—nothing existed but him and the book...

When he finally surfaced, the clock read 11:30 AM.

He had finished Mathematical Analysis. Its value coefficient had dropped to 5.

This confirmed his theory—the system didn’t assess a book’s academic prestige but calibrated its "value" based on his current knowledge level.

Why 5 instead of 0? Probably because some concepts still eluded him. A second read might be necessary to fully conquer them.

But Lu Zhou dismissed the idea. Wasting precious deep-reading time to squeeze out those last 5 points was a losing proposition.

Lunchtime called. He closed the book and headed out.

Passing the library entrance, he glanced at the holographic panel—only 18 hours remained on his AFK mission timer.

Huh. Maybe it’s fine if the mission takes longer.

These six hours had taught him more than an entire year of half-hearted studying.

As he walked to the cafeteria, his mind drifted to the untouched Advanced Algebra on his desk.

There’s also that C-language exam coming up… Should grab a C-programming book too?

And English.

He wondered if English textbooks had value coefficients. The English newspapers stacked by the entrance definitely didn’t. This "Black Tech System" seemed to have a bizarre bias against humanities majors—a serious flaw.

After swiping his meal card and wolfing down his food, Lu Zhou rushed back to the library. He returned his finished books at the counter, then grabbed C Programming Language: Detailed Explanation (5th Edition) from the shelf before returning to his seat.

By the time the lunch rush subsided, the library was bustling again.

Lu Zhou was just about to dive into his next algebra concept when a poke on his arm interrupted him. Turning, he saw a girl with round glasses and a single ponytail—her delicate features framed by a hesitant smile as she held out a pen.

"Sorry to bother you… Mind helping with a problem?"

Lu Zhou nodded graciously. "No problem. Go ahead."

Interrupted mid-study session though he was, he felt no irritation.

Why?

Well… humans were visual creatures. And in social interactions, looks mattered.

Why had she approached him specifically?

Because he was clearly the most handsome guy here.

He liked explaining problems to people with good taste and honesty.

No ulterior motives—just pure satisfaction.

"Thanks," she whispered, carefully dragging her chair next to his and handing over scratch paper.

Lu Zhou accepted the supplies and scanned the problem:

"Find positive numbers a and b such that the equation (lim x→0 [1/(x-bsinx)] ∫₀ˣ [t²/√(a+t²)] dt) = 1 holds."

He didn’t recall seeing this exact problem before, but the structure resembled something from his recent reading.

Perfect—a chance to test the system’s capabilities.

Twirling his pen, Lu Zhou pondered for barely a minute before declaring, "Got it."

"Wha—already?" Chen Yushan stared in disbelief. He hadn’t even written anything yet.

Lu Zhou shot her a glance. Yep, boob size inversely correlates with IQ.

Truthfully, he was impressed by his own speed. Normally, such problems required more effort—even if he could solve them, the process was messier. This time, the solution had unfolded effortlessly in his mind, no scratch paper needed.

Without false modesty, he grabbed the pen and began writing, explaining as he went:

"Classic 0/0 indeterminate form. Apply L’Hôpital’s Rule—first, split the integral. Simple enough, right? From lim x→0 (1-bcosx)=0, we get b=1. Substituting back, we solve for a=4. Check the answer—see if I’m right."

Chen Yushan’s gaze darted between his handwriting and the problem, her thoughts still stuck on the integration step while he’d already reached the final answer.

Skeptical but intrigued, she flipped to the answer key—and her eyes widened.

That’s… exactly it?!

Noticing her expression, Lu Zhou’s pride got the better of him. Twirling his pen, he added, "Basic L’Hôpital’s application. The math itself isn’t hard. By the way, you’re a freshman? What’s your major?"

Chen Yushan flushed crimson. "I’m… preparing for graduate school…"

The words came out in a squeak, and her face burned even hotter—not from shyness, but fury.

How dare he flaunt his skills so smugly?!

She’d neglected calculus for years—that didn’t make her stupid. And he was just a show-off with no social grace, doomed to lifelong singledom.

This mental jab restored her dignity somewhat.

(That she was also a solitary library-goer was conveniently forgotten.)

"Uh…" Lu Zhou blinked, realizing his mistake. He’d assumed she was a peer, not a senior.

Before he could apologize, a loud cough erupted from the row ahead.

Remembering they were disturbing others, Chen Yushan’s face turned scarlet. She stuck out her tongue, gathered her materials, and scurried back to her seat.

Now, Lu Zhou had no chance to apologize—or ask for her name and WeChat.

He sighed, shook off the distraction, and buried himself in Advanced Algebra once more.

Girls were cute, but studying was sacred.

Social connections?

Sorry—true academic gods needed none of that.

Leveling Mathematics to LV1 would conquer the world!

Soon, he was fully immersed again, the earlier encounter reduced to a quaint library anecdote.