The application form for the School Affairs Committee's freshman talent show had been submitted.
However, it wasn't Zheng Hao—the one who had loudly made trouble while submitting the materials—but the quiet young man responsible for tallying the submissions who ultimately handed in the paperwork.
He respectfully reported to the girl seated at the desk:
"President, that fool Yuan Cai has already leaked the news that the freshman from the Actuarial Science Academy is participating in the solo talent performance. He thought he was stirring up resentment against the freshman, but in reality, more people are now watching the drama unfold among the three major academies. Those three idiots, Zheng Hao and his crew, also had nothing better to do than provoke someone from the Actuarial Science Academy. Even if both current students in the Actuarial Science Academy are underperforming now, if even one of them passes the exams or if alumni come back to support them, it'll be a disaster. It's only the beginning of the semester—we shouldn’t let any trouble break out. What do you think? Should we kick Yuan Cai out of our committee?"
Becoming an actuary is essentially a way to defy fate.
So, although few actuaries graduate from the academy, those who do are transferred to high-level planetary districts and hold core structural positions in certain institutions or corporations.
Though Teacher Wen may seem listless, he is actually an intermediate-level actuary. If he ever decides to take up a position elsewhere to stand up for his students, things could get messy.
The girl at the desk had short hair, an exquisitely cold and dignified face. She gently signed her name on the performance list and said calmly:
"Just get rid of the cockroach. There’s no need to report such matters to me in the future. As for the leak, it’s fine—it’s just some freshman excitement. But we should warn those three fools: they shouldn’t think they can run wild around the school just because no one’s holding them accountable. From the looks of it, this actuarial freshman doesn’t seem easy to mess with. Besides, she has no background, making it hard to control her through underhanded means. If she really came from a barren planet and only started studying actuarial science a few months ago yet still passed the entrance exam, she’s undoubtedly a genius."
"Offending a genius is a dangerous thing, especially since there are rumors she might have connections with people from the Tōjō District. Our committee should stay out of it for now—just warn those who are stirring up trouble."
"Should we stop those people from interfering in the competition?" the young man asked again.
"No. I want you to bet on Xiao Qicai winning first place." The girl tapped her terminal against his, completing a face-to-face transfer. "Place 5 million on her. Drive the odds down and give her the prestige she deserves."
Every year, there’s betting on the freshman talent show. Since the list of participants was announced, everyone has been eagerly discussing it—it’s practically the highlight of the academic year’s opening.
The performance department usually has the highest chances of winning.
But suddenly, some wealthy individual placed a 10 million bet on the freshman from the Actuarial Science Academy, instantly turning the academy—which never had any performances—into the center of attention.
Rumor has it that this freshman signed up for a triple-threat solo performance to provoke those from the Law, Food Science, and Mechanical Engineering academies who had maliciously humiliated her.
With a big spender placing such a bet, many suspect there might be insider information, leading to a wave of followers.
Thus, Xiao Qicai's odds suddenly became the highest.
Upon hearing this news, Xiao Qicai: "?"
She had originally intended to take this opportunity to make some money, even secretly betting five million on herself to win.
But who exactly drove her odds down? Which bastard was interfering with her profits!
The biggest payouts come from dark horse victories! Now, she’d be lucky to get even a 10% return on those five million.
Furious, she stir-fried several large woks of rice in her dorm.
Fried rice was indeed Xiao Qicai’s specialty. Back when she couldn’t find a job, she had worked as an assistant for a street food vendor for several months, frying rice, and honed her skills. It had since become her go-to meal whenever she couldn’t be bothered to cook.
Fortunately, although she was in a new body and a bit rusty, it hadn’t been too long. The wok and charcoal here were decent, and the eggs were an improved variety with no trace of gaminess.
The rice grains were coated in golden egg, steaming hot, and with the addition of a few spices and side dishes Xiao Qicai had specially sought out, the aroma was irresistible.
Unfortunately, while there were coloring agents similar to soy sauce, they still lacked that secret homemade sauce.
Qin Sanwan, catching a whiff of the fragrance, rushed over immediately.
"Little Junior Sister, I thought you were just trying to spite those three bullies, but I had no idea you actually knew how to handle a wok and fry rice! Forget the taste—just based on this aroma and skill, you’d be more than qualified for the Culinary Institute!"
As she spoke, she was already staring unblinkingly at the large bowl of fried rice nearby.
Xiao Qicai naturally understood what she meant. With a few final sizzling tosses, she finished the last bowl, scooped it out, and brought it to the table.
"This is my first attempt, and I’ve adjusted the ingredients several times. Give it a try and help me test the flavor…"
Before she could finish, Qin Sanwan had already grabbed a spoon and dug in heartily. Luckily, the earlier batches had cooled down. Watching her devour that large plate of fried rice in just a few minutes left Xiao Qicai utterly stunned.
"Fragrant! So fragrant! So delicious—I’ve never had fried rice this good, way better than the school cafeteria! Little Junior Sister, if you cooked like this every day, I’d never go to the cafeteria again. Well, I’d still go if it’s free, but yours is the best!"
Xiao Qicai didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—was it really that exaggerated?
She sat down as well and took a taste.
Surprisingly, it was indeed quite good, at least better than what she’d had in the cafeteria, with an added layer of wok hei and a smoky flavor.
Curious, she immediately logged into the virtual net to investigate.
It turned out that with technological advancements nowadays, most dishes were prepared by robots. For safety reasons, flameless stoves were used—meaning self-heating, temperature-controlled cookware for stir-frying. Manual cooking was very expensive, reserved only for high-end restaurants and hotels, and the techniques were largely kept secret, taught only through professional institute training. Ordinary households could only eat pre-made meals or rely on smart robots for cooking.
No wonder, then.
And she was using the lowest-grade charcoal fire for stir-frying.
Admittedly, it was to save money—she couldn’t afford high-end kitchenware, which cost hundreds of thousands for a set. To cut costs, doing it herself was best.
However, since she’d added a fully Precision-Controlled Smart Robot to show off, the first round was her doing the cooking, but the next time, she’d need to control the smart robot to fry the rice.
Upon checking online, she found that a fully precision-controlled smart robot cost a full 100,000 star credits. She could afford it, but having just invested her funds, she needed to be frugal for now to ensure she could cover next month's employment fees.
Just as she was hesitating, another uninvited guest burst in.
Guo Fenghua still looked disheveled, but his eyes shone brightly as they fixed on the several plates of fried rice.
And so, the free-meal group quickly gained a second member.
"Little junior sister, are you planning to run this kitchen long-term? If so, I’ll skip the cafeteria and pay to eat here!"
It was rare to see this senior brother, usually buried in the lab, emerge for the sake of good food. Truly, the allure of delicious meals was eternal.
"Don’t refuse just yet—100 star credits per meal!"
A hundred star credits could feed an ordinary family for a week.
She hadn’t expected this seemingly sloppy senior brother to be so generous—and his generosity surely meant he had money to spare.
Xiao Qicai’s eyes lit up, but after considering the cost of ingredients, she shook her head:
"I might cook here occasionally since the school food really isn’t great. I’ll just call you over when I do—no need to pay."
"How could that be okay?" Guo Fenghua immediately took out his terminal, tapped it against hers, and Xiao Qicai instantly received a notification of a 10,000-star-credit transfer.
"Just deduct the cost yourself, little junior sister! Remember to call me for meals."
Qin Sanwan, who had been devouring her meal, suddenly looked a bit embarrassed and hastily tapped her own terminal against Xiao Qicai’s as well.
She transferred a smaller amount—only 1,000 star credits—and said apologetically:
"I know it’s not much, since I’m a bit short on funds lately. Once I earn some money from an online modeling job, I’ll contribute more. Just be sure to include me when you cook, little junior sister!"
Before Xiao Qicai could respond, another person pushed the door open.
Well, this time it was Teacher Wen. Now the professional teacher-student group was complete.
The outcome was much the same as with the first two: he praised Xiao Qicai’s cooking skills, expressed his desire to join for meals when possible, and even generously transferred 10,000 star credits.
Xiao Qicai never expected her little kitchen to essentially become the entire academy’s kitchen.
Of course, although she loved making money, charging her classmates and teachers—people she saw day in and day out—felt somewhat awkward.
She decided she would only charge them for the cost of ingredients.
However, as she looked at the perfectly separated grains of egg fried rice in her bowl, an idea quickly came to mind.
Wasn’t this a business opportunity delivered right to her doorstep? The academy didn’t seem to have any rules against students running businesses on campus.
She just needed to apply for a hygiene inspection certificate and the necessary permits.
Perhaps she could set up a small stall in the self-paid cafeteria? She’d heard business there was pretty good.
Yes, although the academy provided meals and accommodation, many people—especially those with money—preferred the self-paid cafeteria for its wider variety of dishes and customizable flavors.
Making money off her peers and teachers felt uncomfortable, but earning from those well-off spendthrifts? That was a different story.
So, for this year’s freshman talent show, she had to make a "splash"—preferably even take first place!
Xiao Qicai’s eyes gleamed with determination as she immediately placed an order for a precision-controlled smart robot.
Amid everyone's anticipation, the Freshman Talent Show finally began.
The vast auditorium was filled with numerous leaders from the 46 Advanced Academy, faculty from various colleges, freshmen, and even some upperclassmen who had come to join the excitement.
With a total attendance of twenty to thirty thousand, the spacious auditorium accommodated the crowd comfortably.
Each college had its own judges and members of the school committee seated around the central performance stage—ninety-nine in total—ensuring a fair evaluation process.
Hosting the opening ceremony was a sharp-looking short-haired girl with a poised and methodical speaking style, accompanied by a familiar-faced assistant. According to Qin Sanwan, she was Bu Yixuan, a third-year student from the Academy Affairs Committee and one of the rare combat majors, highly respected within the school. Rumor had it that she wasn’t originally scheduled to host but had taken the stage on a whim.
The Advanced Academy boasted over sixty specialized colleges, with each performance limited to five minutes. The entire show, including intermissions and speeches, spanned more than five hours and was divided into morning and afternoon sessions, all completed within a single day.
Speeches from college leaders and the school committee were predictably dull, though thankfully brief, consisting mostly of a few words of encouragement.
What everyone looked forward to most was the freshman talent competition. Many of the school’s future stars first made a name for themselves here.
Most college performances were related to their respective majors or fields of study, offering a glimpse into the societal divisions of labor and the types of talent in demand.
Each college had its own unique flair, so Xiao Qicai found the show far from boring—she watched with keen interest.
What left the deepest impression on her was the performance from the Animal Research College: a freshman demonstrated hatching an egg of a creature called a Luopeng within an extremely short time frame. This type of animal had a naturally brief incubation period, but the conditions had to be meticulously controlled—temperature, humidity, and other environmental factors—as the slightest mistake could be fatal. With rigorous precision, the student managed the tiny incubator’s conditions and, in just three minutes, a small white fluffy creature broke out of its shell, letting out a clear, newborn chirp. The entire auditorium fell silent for a moment before erupting into thunderous applause.
There were also performances from the Economics College, Mineral Resources College, Cosmic Studies College, Artificial Intelligence College, Transportation College, and more. While some categories overlapped with those from Earth in her previous life, the specializations had evolved significantly, emphasizing exploration, innovation, and intelligence.
Xiao Qicai made careful mental notes of each college’s distinct features and skills.
System 002, however, seemed less interested, instead narrating to Xiao Qicai scenes from novels where female protagonists dominated military academies, piloted mechas, and conquered the world with thrilling intensity. It even suggested that if she wanted to pursue a strong female lead path, such exciting and popular routes might suit her—and offered to help scout a future general or marshal if she decided to change her goals.
Xiao Qicai once again told it to shut up.
Somehow, her performance was scheduled for the final slot in the afternoon session. Glancing at the program, she noticed that the three colleges she had challenged were lined up right before her.
She looked up at the cold, aloof girl on stage who had been hosting for most of the day yet remained radiant and full of energy.
If this wasn’t deliberately arranged, who would believe it?
Had she offended her or something?
By the end of the afternoon session, everyone was already experiencing aesthetic fatigue.
But with the introduction of the first topic—the Culinary Institute—this freshman talent show, which had clearly worn out the audience, once again reached an unprecedented climax.
[EN: This is the end of the free available chapters, so this preview translation will be ending.]
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