Chapter 259: Campus Brews and Ambitions

Near Tonghai University’s Music Square, a bubble-tea shop had been running for several years.

Xu Chen was treating his roommates to bubble tea.

Back then, people still used cash for everything—no WeChat or Alipay in sight.

After ordering, Xu Chen received a handful of coins as change, stuffing them into his pocket where they clinked noisily—he wasn’t used to it at all.

Each with a cup in hand, they thanked “Boss Xu” again.

Jiao Tianbo had shown up too, which surprised Xu Chen a bit.

“Stock Guy” Pei Qian sipped his tea, raised an eyebrow, and suddenly said:

“Opening a bubble-tea shop seems pretty profitable, and the costs don’t look too high…”

His words carried a hint of excitement, like he was ready to dive in.

Xu Chen hesitated, wondering if he should step in and advise against it out of goodwill.

By 2006, China already had plenty of franchise businesses for bubble tea.

Over the next decade or two, every few years a new brand would pop up.

The public might see it as normal market evolution.

But few realized that behind these periodically updated tea brands, the same group was likely pulling the strings.

They’d explode in popularity, spread nationwide through franchises, and then crash and burn quickly…

Only for another brand to burst onto the scene…

The cycle repeated, endlessly harvesting franchise “leeks”.

And the people behind it always came out on top.

Having seen his share of “capital games,” Xu Chen knew that anything that skyrocketed and vanished fast probably hid a deep pit.

Step in carelessly, and you’d get trimmed like a leek without even realizing it…

That’s one reason Xu Chen encouraged his father to focus on real industries like tech.

Businesses with long-term investments, solid assets, and tech buildup had the staying power to weather economic cycles.

They might not yield quick cash upfront, but over time, the returns and stability shone through.

In truth, many things followed the same logic.

Tackling tough tasks, building up over time, delaying gratification…

All led to longer-term, steadier rewards.

…

Pei Qian stared at the small shop, clearly mulling it over seriously.

Xu Chen thought for a moment and decided to keep quiet for now.

Respect others’ paths and let go of the urge to fix everything…

Besides, Pei Qian spent his days studying Buffett and the stock market—if he shifted that energy to a tea shop, he might lose less money.

…

Xu Chen enjoyed his tea as a cool campus breeze blew by, feeling utterly relaxed.

Jiao Tianbo walked over with his cup and said:

“Xu Chen, can I ask how they select for that scholarship you got?”

Xu Chen paused, feeling a bit speechless inside.

Had his onstage award turned him into a rival in “Top Student” Jiao Tianbo’s eyes?

He didn’t want to get tangled in talk with the socially awkward Jiao Tianbo, so he phrased it to ease the guy’s mind:

“A vice professor from our college was recruiting at my high school, and he had a scholarship spot open.”

“I happened to know him from before, so after a quick chat, he gave it to me…”

“So in a way, it was just luck and a bit of backdoor connections.”

Jiao Tianbo thought about it and seemed to lighten up, replying:

“Hmm… that sounds reasonable.”

“But relying on just luck and knowing teachers won’t take you far.”

“Let’s push each other!”

With that, he raised his tea cup like he was toasting Xu Chen.

“…”

The childish, over-the-top gesture left Xu Chen stunned for a second.

But he smiled kindly and clinked his cup against Jiao Tianbo’s:

“Let’s do that—push each other…”

Sometimes stroking egos kept things smooth.

Jiao Tianbo chuckled and walked away.

…

…

They grabbed lunch together at the West Garden cafeteria before heading to the South Campus.

The college orientation started at one, leaving no time for a break after lunch.

When the guys reached the Little Yellow Building’s lecture hall, a few students were already scattered around.

Xu Chen and his buddies headed straight for the back rows.

Once seated, they noticed Jiao Tianbo, Huo Dashan, and Huang Hao had deliberately taken spots up front.

Jiao Tianbo was always the eager type in any setting—that made sense.

Huo Dashan was probably angling to network with college leaders and teachers.

As for Huang Hao, he was likely there to snag a photo with Bai Miao.

…

Xu Chen decided to stay put in the back for a peaceful time.

…

He dozed off a bit on the uncomfortable chair, then woke to music blaring from the speakers.

Glancing around, the hall was filling up, and the big screen played promotional videos.

The front row was packed with officials and teachers.

The host, the same polished broadcasting teacher from yesterday, quickly went over the event rules.

Stay quiet, silence phones, no wandering once it starts, and so on…

A couple minutes later, applause erupted from the front.

Many students ahead stood to see what was happening.

“What’s going on?” Hong Xiaoqiang, who was nodding off, asked.

“That’s Bai Miao showing up,” Chen Wenyi said.

Xu Chen didn’t stand but peeked through the crowd and spotted Bai Miao.

Dressed in her national team uniform, she smiled and waved to the back before taking a seat up front.

With her were two coaches in team attire.

Xu Chen checked and saw they weren’t Cheng Hong, Xie Bingran’s team leader.

He figured these might be coaches from the Shanghai team, not necessarily from the national squad.

Xu Chen leaned up a little to look ahead.

“Little fanboy” Huang Hao sat at the very right of the front row, farthest from Bai Miao.

Getting a signature from her would be tough now.

…

The host took the stage and gave a brief opening speech.

Then, following the usual flow, they introduced the front-row leaders and guests.

Most of the college’s key figures were there, including Dean Lin Ruyang, professors, vice professors, and department heads.

Moving into the orientation proper, Dean Lin Ruyang stepped up for a welcome address.

Xu Chen looked over and saw the dean in a Mao suit, exuding the vibe of a creative design master.

His speech was short and straightforward, skipping the usual official fluff and tossing in some light jokes that drew laughs and claps.

Lin Ruyang left a good impression on Xu Chen—maybe from his years studying in Europe, he had that intellectual air about him.

It stood out against the typical authoritative style of some domestic deans.

Of course, it wasn’t about better or worse—just what fit.

For a “Creative and Media College” dean, this vibe worked, though it might not suit the serious engineering schools…

At its core, Lin Ruyang warmly welcomed the new students.

Toward the end, he touched on some professional matters:

“In our creative and media disciplines, we encourage real-world practice over pure theory.”

“So, we urge students to join external internships, competitions, and evaluations…”

“Next, each department head will introduce themselves to you.”

“They’ll briefly cover the competitions and evaluations available over your four years…”

“We encourage you all to dive into these during university.”

“Of course, the college offers real incentives and rewards.”

“Win in external competitions, and you’ll get cash prizes from us.”

“Plus, for relevant courses, you can skip the final exam and automatically earn an A+.”

…

His words sparked murmurs in the audience.

Securing awards for direct A+ in one or two courses was a big draw.

Over the past couple of days, students had chatted about how some teachers were tough on grades.

Apparently, getting an A was brutal…

So, winning external comps for an easy A+ could ease the academic load fast.

…

For Xu Chen, this had another appeal.

Aside from finals or project assessments, college courses involved attendance checks.

Miss too many, and you’d fail and have to retake…

With his family business, his own company, and Xie Bingran’s matters, Xu Chen knew absences were coming.

That could hit his course attendance hard.

But if comp wins gave him A+ outright, he wouldn’t sweat the check-ins.

Thinking about it, he realized these competitions were worth jumping into.

Total win-win—high returns for little effort.

And for advertising majors, it was mostly ad campaigns and contests.

Xu Chen had years in the ad world in his past life, handling all sorts of clients and even snagging domestic awards…

University-level ad battles? Piece of cake.

Straight-up domination.

…

Lin Ruyang saw the students buzzing and smiled.

He paused, then added:

“Stay enthusiastic, but don’t get overly optimistic.”

“These comps are nationwide against top schools—it’s challenging.”

“Plus, as freshmen, you haven’t had full professional training yet.”

“Focus on learning in your first and second years.”

“Save the serious wins for junior and senior years—that’s smarter.”

“Of course, we welcome geniuses.”

“Heroes can emerge young…”

“I look forward to seeing talents rise from your class in every field!”

Lin Ruyang finished, earning loud applause.

…

Next, the host transitioned smoothly as department heads took the stage.

Broadcasting, advertising, animation, news, photography, visual communication…

Each head had their own flair—many with strong artistic vibes, some dressed eccentrically.

Their speeches were brief, starting with self-intros.

Then, as Lin had mentioned, they outlined the four-year comps for their fields.

Things like the National Youth Documentary Awards, University Photography Contest, International Student Animation Festival, and more…

When the advertising department head spoke, Xu Chen and his friends sat up a little—after all, this was their prof.

Ni Zhi was a tall, slender man with graying hair but trendy clothes, giving off a youthful energy.

He skipped much about himself, just said hello, and dove into the advertising comps over four years.

He highlighted two main ones: the National University Advertising Competition and the international OneShow Young Creatives Award.

Ni Zhi added:

“These are authoritative and weighty—encourage you to join over your university years.”

“We’ll recommend other comps as we cover the curriculum…”

“As Dean Lin said, as freshmen, focus on learning first.”

“But if you enter, give it your all…”

“The one with the tight deadline is the National University Advertising Competition.”

“Submissions close mid-September.”

“If you’re interested, grab info from your homeroom teacher and see if you can whip up an entry in the next couple weeks.”

“Still, as I said, this is geared toward juniors and seniors—freshmen, don’t feel pressured to compete hard yet…”

His words triggered some quiet whispers nearby.

Hong Xiaoqiang muttered, “Submissions in two weeks? That’s not happening for us.”

“Yeah,” Chen Wenyi added, “We haven’t even started pro classes—don’t know the first thing about making ads…”

“Might as well check it out,” Pei Qian said. “Even if we’ve never done ads, we’ve seen them on TV—maybe wing it!”

“But we don’t know the software for design or video,” Chen Wenyi replied.

“With only two weeks, forget it.”

…

Xu Chen pondered—for him, two weeks was plenty.

On the creative side, as a seasoned ad pro, it was effortless dominance.

For production, he could get help from pro designer Sun Aimi.

She was in a great mood with Xu Chen lately.

Beyond the payment for the Chenfeng Technology and Chenfeng Ice Power logos, he’d given her plenty of encouragement and emotional support.

That made her eager to collaborate on projects.

Of course, it was all part of Xu Chen’s plan…