NOVPUB"Wen Xin, is this... your new part-time job?" Tan Dabao gaped slightly as he watched Wen Xin sitting in the driver's seat of a children's train at the front of the mall.
She was wearing a white T-shirt with a Minions print, paired with light blue floor-sweeping pants, her hair tied up in a high ponytail. The whole look made her appear youthful and energetic.
At the moment, there were no customers in the string of little train cars behind her. Sitting in the driver's seat, she responded cheerfully.
"Yep, a new gig. Sister Zhang, who usually drives the train, had something come up today, so I'm filling in for her." Wen Xin replied with effortless ease.
Yan observed the lively girl and thought she could understand why Dabao liked her.
When Wen Xin spoke, her eyes and mouth naturally carried a smile. Even just making eye contact with her felt uplifting—her cheerful demeanor was infectious.
"Tan Dabao, aren’t you going to introduce me?" Wen Xin tilted her chin up playfully.
"This is my older brother and sister—they study at Bin University—and this is my little sister, Xiao Bao. You’ve met her before." Dabao quickly gestured as he made introductions.
Before Dabao could figure out how to introduce Wen Xin, she had already climbed down from the train and waved at Yan and the others with a bright smile.
"Hello, big brother and sister! I’m Wen Xin, Dabao and Xiao Bao’s junior at school."
Yan could sense the curiosity in Wen Xin’s gaze as she looked between her and Jue Jue, as if she found the two of them particularly interesting.
"Hi, Wen Xin! Do you get a lunch break during your shift? We were just about to grab some food—want to join us?" Yan suggested, charmed by the girl’s energy.
Wen Xin shook her head regretfully. "No can do. Lunchtime is peak hours at the mall—lots of customers. I can’t leave. You guys go ahead, though. You might have to wait in line."
Just as she finished speaking, a woman with a child approached from behind and asked, "How much for a ride on the train?"
"Thirty for one adult and one child. There’s a discount if you get a pass—100 for four rides." Business called, so Wen Xin turned back smoothly to answer before waving a quick goodbye to the group behind her.
Yan glanced at Dabao, whose disappointment was obvious, and couldn’t help but smile. Even a once-in-a-generation genius, mature beyond his years, wasn’t immune to the occasional slip back into adolescence.
Dabao was, after all, still just a big kid in the throes of growing up.
"Let’s go, Dabao." She patted him on the shoulder.
Yan then gave his arm a playful squeeze. During winter break, the lanky teenager had still been in the middle of a growth spurt, looking somewhat gaunt.
"You’ve filled out a bit."
"My growth spurt’s almost over," Dabao said, flexing his arm proudly. He did have muscles now.
Wen Xin had once mentioned that she found rail-thin guys unattractive, as well as those who were overly muscular.
The mention of "growth spurts" made Yan and Jue Jue burst into laughter, the term instantly triggering a shared memory.
Three years ago, during high school, Tan Dabao had hit his voice-changing phase. Even a prodigy wasn’t exempt from the ordinary trials of puberty. Stuck with a "duck-like croak," he’d become painfully self-conscious, refusing to speak and even diving into research on high-tech voice changers.
Now, the tall, lean teenager was gradually taking on the appearance of an adult—awkwardly shaving, his Adam’s apple more pronounced. It made Yan pause, realizing how the younger siblings who used to trail after her and Jue Jue were slowly growing into their own.
"Don’t laugh!" Dabao scowled as soon as he saw their expressions, knowing exactly what they were thinking.
"HAHAHAHA!" Xiao Bao cackled even louder.
He glanced back to check the distance between them and Wen Xin.
The mother and daughter had already boarded the train, and Wen Xin was now steering it toward them.
The little train’s horn beeped cheerfully.
"Wen Xin’s coming—no more talking about this here!" Dabao insisted firmly.
They watched as the train passed by, and Yan couldn’t resist teasing.
"So scared of Wen Xin hearing, huh?"
"I know all your brother’s embarrassing stories anyway."
"It’s not the same," Tan Dabao declared with mock seriousness.
"You can’t lead with embarrassing stuff. First impressions matter."
The group stepped onto the escalator, watching as Wen Xin guided the train in laps around the floor until she disappeared from view.
"Quit staring. If you want to see her so badly, just come back later and pay for a ride," Xiao Bao muttered, rolling her eyes at her brother.
What good was just looking?
Yan and the others headed up to the mall’s fourth floor for Yunnan cuisine, while Wen Xin continued circling the third-floor children’s area in her little train.
She was enjoying today’s randomly assigned gig. Working in the mall meant strong air conditioning, and driving the train meant she could sit down. Even when there were no customers, she didn’t have to shout for attention—kids and parents always came on their own.
Compared to handing out flyers, dressing as a mascot, or working outdoor shifts as an NPC at amusement parks or escape rooms, this was a breeze.
In short, driving the train wasn’t tiring, the environment was comfortable (if a bit noisy), and the pay wasn’t bad—300 yuan for the day, with potential extra rewards based on performance.
Wen Xin hadn’t expected to run into Tan Dabao and his family at the mall today.
Her daily tasks were randomly assigned, and she hadn’t told anyone about this one. There was no way he’d planned this "coincidental" meeting.
She knew Dabao had some level of interest in her. When an upperclassman messaged a future junior daily—if it wasn’t purely mentorship or academic discussion—it usually meant one thing: a lonely senior trying to charm a newbie.
Not that she thought he was like that. Wen Xin had heard about him from admissions staff and other seniors.
"Wen Xin, you should know—the word ‘genius’ was practically invented for Dabao and Xiao Bao. Next to them, no one else even qualifies."
Wen Xin herself was no genius. Though her story—rising from mid-tier grades in her sophomore year to ranking top ten in the college entrance exams—was often praised by teachers and classmates, she knew the truth.
Her life had changed the summer before her second year of high school.
With remedial classes over and the new semester approaching, she’d crammed in as much gaming, binge-reading, and TV marathons as possible before reality set in.
Wen Xin adored life simulation games—raising virtual characters, scheduling their studies, guiding them to different endings. It felt like living alternate lives.
She’d played most games in the genre, so when an ad for New Life Online popped up, she clicked without hesitation. Even if it was from a small studio, free-to-play stages were usually worth a try.
Wen Xin clicked, never expecting that this "Life Online Game" would appear right before her eyes.
[Life ONLINE Game loading...]
Once the text on the screen vanished, the world she saw underwent a massive transformation.
Her life had become gamified—or rather, leveled and quantified.
Wen Xin saw her personal stats panel. The horsehead fiddle she had practiced since childhood was now at Level 2.
Not just the fiddle, but all her skills—her coursework, cycling, walking, hiking, even her calligraphy—were now displayed with numerical values.
[Horsehead Fiddle: Lv2]
[Cycling: Lv1]
[High School English: Lv3]
...
Clicking on skills of different levels, Wen Xin could see a proficiency bar for each. Horsehead Fiddle Lv2 (591/1000)—in gaming terms, this was her "experience points."
Playing a tune earned her +1 EXP. An hour of focused practice? +10 EXP.
Studying and solving problems also boosted her course-related EXP. Tackling a difficult question or grasping a confusing concept could net her dozens of points!
And it didn’t stop there. When Wen Xin committed to memorizing 30 vocabulary words daily for a month, she unlocked a badge achievement.
Daily study check-ins rewarded her with in-game coins, exchangeable for items, cash, guidance from virtual mentors, or even "Clarity Potions"—tiny vials that, when drunk, left her refreshed, sharp-minded, and free of drowsiness.
School life—monthly exams, midterms, finals, inter-school competitions, standardized tests, even pop quizzes—was automatically converted into "Daily Quests," "Short-Term Missions," and "Long-Term Goals."
As a completionist, an achievement hunter, a stats fanatic, and a collector, leaving quests unfinished or levels unmaxed was simply unbearable!
And so, Wen Xin dove into her studies, discovering even more fascinating mechanics along the way.
Her habit of late-night snacking on ice, sweets, and spicy treats prompted her mom to nag her about healthier habits—prompting the game to generate a "Weekly Wellness Challenge."
If she spotted someone with a "?" floating above their head, it meant they had a problem. Initiating a conversation could trigger a quest.
A "!" signaled an opportunity to chat—maybe a few words would grant her bonus EXP, or even turn the person into a quest-giver!
Just like NPCs in a game!
Wen Xin adored the nightly summary before bed, where she could review the day’s gains: EXP earned, coins collected, achievements unlocked. Pure satisfaction!
Especially when she’d completed all her study tasks—the victory animation showed her pummeling math, kicking science, pinning English to the ground, and throttling literature. Absolutely exhilarating!
Now, Wen Xin was piloting a mini train at the mall.
She’d just taken three families for a ride, earning a notification: [Amusement Train Driving EXP +1].
Just +1, but every point counted. Every skill she had was leveled this way—bit by bit, until they transformed!
It wasn’t the weekend, but summer break meant her train stayed busy even at noon. Between rides, she sneakily nibbled on Snickers and crackers to keep her energy up.
By mid-afternoon, the train finally slowed down. Wen Xin spotted the people she’d been hoping to see again and offered them mints from her pocket.
"Want one?" Her gaze lingered on Tan Dabao’s older sister.
Above Tan Dabao’s siblings’ heads floated a hybrid symbol: [?!]
A question mark AND an exclamation point? These were clearly quest-givers sent by fate!
Wen Xin had initially regretted missing a chance to trigger a quest during her shift, but now they’d returned—like stumbling upon a hidden path after losing hope!
"Thanks, we’ll take one." Yan accepted the mint, noticing Wen Xin’s earlier glance upward.
Most people didn’t stare at others’ heads. Considering Wen Xin’s unique "system," Yan’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"Wen Xin, when does your shift end? We’re catching a movie later—want to join us for barbecue after?" Yan smiled warmly.
She was going above and beyond for Dabao’s sake.
Yan half-expected Wen Xin to decline. After all, according to Dabao, they were barely acquaintances, and she was a complete stranger.
"Sure! I’m just covering for someone—Sister Zhang will be back by 5, so I’m free by six." Wen Xin agreed without hesitation.
"I’d love to get to know a Bin University student too."
A potential quest was right in front of her—why wait? Of course she’d say yes! Maybe a daily mission would pop up!
At that moment, both Yan and Wen Xin felt like they’d hit the jackpot.
Plan successful. Heck yeah!
Tonight, they’d get to know each other properly.
