Chapter 34 | My Acting System Only Gives Me Villain Roles

In the office, the two of them discussed for over half an hour.

Professor Zhang marked a few revision suggestions on Jiang Yue's draft with satisfaction before closing her laptop.

“When it comes to academics, your head has always been very clear. I don't worry much about that,” Professor Zhang said as she took off her reading glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and looked at her prized student in front of her. “But as for you running off to act, to be honest, I was quite surprised.”

In Professor Zhang's eyes, Jiang Yue's grades in core courses were top-tier, and his logic was extremely rigorous. He was originally a prime candidate who could have easily landed a million-yuan annual salary as a core algorithm engineer at a tech giant right after graduation.

“But you don't need to be nervous either. I'm not some pedantic old dinosaur.” Professor Zhang smiled and waved her hand, cutting off Jiang Yue's attempt to explain. “I actually watched the web series you starred in at home the day before yesterday. Your performance was indeed excellent—so good that even my middle school granddaughter was too terrified to go to the bathroom by herself in the middle of the night.”

Jiang Yue couldn't help but chuckle.

Good grief, his portrayal of a villain was fast becoming the local equivalent of a boogeyman to stop crying children in Donghai City.

Professor Zhang put away her smile and looked at him with earnest concern. “The entertainment industry is a massive vanity fair, full of glitz and glamour. It's completely different from our quiet environment here, where we sit on cold benches all day writing code and doing research. I only hope you won't let temporary popularity get to your head. Whether you want to continue down the path of computer science or completely transition to being an actor, you need to quiet your mind and think carefully about what you truly want.”

Pausing, she added in a lighter tone, “But then again, you're young. Having drive is a good thing. You still have plenty of time to make mistakes and try new things. As long as you stay on the right path, you can shine in any industry.”

Jiang Yue's smile faded as he nodded with utmost seriousness. “Thank you, Professor Zhang. I'll keep your words in mind. Acting is a completely new field for me, but I will keep a clear head.”

With no suppression or preaching, Professor Zhang's open-mindedness brought a wave of warmth to Jiang Yue's heart.

After saying goodbye to his advisor, Jiang Yue carried his suitcase and strolled back to the men's dormitory.

Pushing the door open, the dorm room was completely quiet. He had no idea where Lu Ming and Chen Haotian had wandered off to at the moment.

Jiang Yue quickly organized his luggage, opened a food delivery app with practiced ease, and ordered a portion of braised chicken and rice.

Then, he pulled out his chair, sat down, and casually pressed the power button of his laptop.

The familiar hum of the fan started up, and the screen lit up accordingly.

With a calm expression, Jiang Yue opened his thesis document and his code editor.

While waiting for his delivery to arrive, a crisp, rhythmic tapping of keyboard keys began to echo through the dorm room.

The lingering glow of the setting sun spilled into the room through the balcony of the Donghai University men's dorm.

Leaning back in his computer chair, Jiang Yue's fingertips moved so fast they left afterimages on the keyboard, causing dense lines of code to scroll rapidly across the terminal window on his screen.

Bang!

The dorm door was pushed open from the outside.

Lu Ming, carrying his backpack, slumped into his chair as soon as he entered, looking utterly devastated as if mourning a tragic loss.

Chen Haotian followed closely behind. He shut the door behind him, adjusted the black-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, and let out a long sigh.

“Brother Yue, you're finally back!” Lu Ming stared up at the ceiling, his voice dripping with the weariness of someone who had lost all desire to live.

Jiang Yue pressed the Enter key to let the program run, then spun his chair around to face the two of them. “What's wrong? Didn't you say you were going to the info session this afternoon? Why do you look like your life force has been completely drained?”

“Info session? That was basically a fan meetup for you!” Lu Ming suddenly sat up straight, his face filled with grief and indignation. “Do you have any idea what kind of terrifying blockade Haozi and I had to break through just to get from the teaching building back to the dorm?”

Chen Haotian put down his backpack, walked over to the water dispenser to pour a cup of cold water, and drank half of it before speaking. His tone sounded like he was reporting experimental data: “According to my sample statistics, over a mere 800-meter path from Teaching Building No. 3 to the entrance of Dormitory Building No. 7, we were intercepted by twelve independent social units. Among them, ten units were female and two were male, making the female-to-male ratio five to one. The frequency of sudden approaches was as high as 1.5 times per minute.”

Lu Ming rolled his eyes hard. “Haozi, can you stop acting brain-fried from the lab? You sound like you're reading a thesis.”

Chen Haotian was a typical math maniac whose brain was entirely packed with formulas and models. His way of viewing the world was filled with academic rigor.

Suppressing a laugh, Jiang Yue picked up the thermos on his desk and took a sip of warm water. “So, why did they intercept you? To scan a QR code and fill out a survey?”

“Survey my foot!” Lu Ming grabbed his own hair, nearly driven mad. “They were all trying to dig up info on you! Once they heard we share a dorm with you, oh man, the way they looked at me was like they were looking at a lucky turtle in a wishing well! They asked what you usually like to do, if you have a girlfriend, if you've really worked as a hacker... The most ridiculous part was some guy asking whether you like sugar or salt in your tofu pudding. He said he wanted to build a profiling data model!”

“Cough...” Jiang Yue choked on his water and coughed twice.

This batch of alumni had definitely directed their thirst for knowledge to the wrong place.

In truth, they couldn't really be blamed.

As a top-tier 985 university, science and engineering majors made up the absolute majority at Donghai University. The students here practically drowned in packed schedules, endless lab reports, and obscure algorithmic logic every single day. The campus atmosphere was famously pragmatic, and they didn't care about things like campus belles or heartthrobs.

Over the years since Jiang Yue enrolled, with his incredibly handsome face and top-notch academic performance, he had long been recognized as the resident straight-A heartthrob in the School of Computer Science.

However, he kept a low profile. Aside from attending classes, he spent every day in the computer lab. His daily routine was so singular that he resembled an NPC in an online game.

But now, things had changed.

With 《Manhunt》 airing, combined with the official police account's viral legal education post, the filter of “Shen Xu” had directly elevated Jiang Yue's popularity by several orders of magnitude.

Now, the entire Donghai University knew that among their miserable group of keyboard-smashing, hair-losing peers, a divine talent had emerged to play a high-IQ villain.

“Brother Yue, I don't even dare to pull out my WeChat QR code for payments anymore.” Lu Ming flashed his phone, where dozens of unread red notification dots were flashing frantically on the screen. “Today, I truly got a taste of what kind of hellish life it is to be an assistant to a top star.”

Chen Haotian had already pulled out his chair and sat down, opening his laptop. “Data doesn't lie. According to my analysis of the background traffic data on the campus forum, posts containing the keyword 'Jiang Yue' have occupied 72.8% of the homepage layout traffic in the past 48 hours. From the perspective of communication and statistics, you have already triggered the threshold of the 'campus celebrity effect.'”

Looking at his two roommates who looked as if they were facing a formidable enemy, Jiang Yue couldn't help but smile.

Fame, to him, was originally just a number on his system panel that could be used to redeem traits. But this was the first time it had tangibly affected the lives of those around him.

“Alright, thanks for your hard work, my dear 'managers'.” Jiang Yue shut down his computer and stood up. “To soothe your battered spirits today, dinner's on me tonight. Old Ma's Sichuan Restaurant outside the East Gate. Order whatever you want.”