Chapter 14: Spying on Dreams, Heart Fluttering Like a Deer

The college counseling fair is indeed good, but it’s not a cure-all.

He Chen suppressed his feelings and smiled to remind her: “It’s like university professors guiding students toward employment—many of them have never actually entered the workforce themselves. The advice they give might have a little reference value, but not much.”

After we release the balloons, I’ll take you to meet Du Tiantian’s aunt—she’s a real doctor who’s worked both domestically and abroad. Ask her plenty of questions; it’ll give you a deeper understanding of what your future career will be like.”

“That’s great!” Ruan Lü spoke up, having been silent until now: “Thank your brother!”

“Thank you…” Ruan Liuzheng’s lips twitched.

Mom is so blatantly biased.

He Chen’s earlier analogy even implied Mom herself—the professor who’s lived her whole life in the ivory tower—and questioned her dream, which is exactly the path Mom has always pushed her to pursue.

Yet Mom wasn’t angry at all—now she’s telling her to thank him.

Even though “He Shengtian Banzi” had “straightened out her underlying logic,” she was still furious.

A mother-in-law growing fonder of her son-in-law with every glance is one thing, but this is ridiculous!

On the playground, family after family gathered around balloons, writing down their dreams, waiting for the moment to release them together.

Qiao Yingzi, whose dream had been crushed by her own mother, ran up to the rooftop of the teaching building and vented to her best friend Huang Zhitao, who followed her up to comfort her.

Fang Yifan, who had caused trouble earlier, also climbed up and cracked jokes nonstop until he finally calmed down his childhood friend.

“I’ve got something cool to show you!” Fang Yifan pulled something from his pocket and proudly displayed it to his childhood friend and goddess.

“A mini binocular for spying? You’re truly a pervert!” The two girls stared—and Huang Zhitao looked disgusted, while Qiao Yingzi blurted out an insult.

“It’s not mine—it’s my dad’s!” Fang Yifan quickly explained.

“Eww!” Qiao Yingzi shuddered: “Uncle Fang always seemed so honest and simple—turns out he’s like this! You’re a family of perverts!”

“What are you talking about!” Fang Yifan snapped: “This is a special telescope my dad bought to watch concerts. I brought it today so I could clearly see my own handsome, dashing self from the stands—and I stole it to show you guys some fun!”

“You don’t need to explain to us!” Qiao Yingzi gave him a look that said, “I don’t believe a word you say.”

Fang Yifan didn’t care what his “buddy” Qiao Yingzi thought, but he quickly acted to explain to the goddess why he’d taken the binoculars: “Look—you can see other people’s dreams now!”

“That’s still spying on others’ privacy!” Huang Zhitao said, disgusted as she watched Fang Yifan crouch down, peering at the dreams written on the balloons below.

“How’s that spying? That’s reverence! Nothing here is shameful!” Fang Yifan argued: “Let me take a good look! If anyone’s hiding something shameful, I’m going to check out that bastard first!”

“You’re spying on He Chen?” Qiao Yingzi immediately realized.

Huang Zhitao also turned her gaze toward him, not immediately disgusted—clearly, she was curious too.

“Peking University Medical School,” Fang Yifan read aloud.

“You can really see it!” Qiao Yingzi leaned over: “What did He Chen write? Let me see.”

“That’s Ruan Liuzheng’s dream,” Huang Zhitao also believed it now.

They were in the same class, chasing each other in grades, both girls—and Huang Zhitao planned to study medicine too, so she understood Ruan Liuzheng’s thoughts perfectly.

Unlike Ruan Liuzheng, Huang Zhitao’s parents were both doctors—international medical volunteers who spent years overseas. She hadn’t seen them in years, perfectly embodying the saying: “Parents are true love; children are accidents.”

Yet this “accident” didn’t resent them—she wanted to become a doctor too, to join them someday and truly become a family.

“No way!” Fang Yifan crouched, peering through the tiny binoculars, finally finding the right angle to see the other side of the balloon: “Crane longevity, surpassing He Shengtian Banzi? Seriously? This guy wants to live as long as a thousand-year turtle, competing with heaven and earth for lifespan? That’s insane!”

“Let me see!” Qiao Yingzi couldn’t bear waiting any longer—she snatched the binoculars, shoved Fang Yifan aside, and crouched to look: “It really is… ah!”

As she stared, she suddenly screamed, yanking her eyes away from the binoculars and even leaning back sharply.

“What happened? What did you see?” Huang Zhitao rushed forward, catching her stumbling best friend in surprise.

Qiao Yingzi pressed her hand to her chest, trying to calm her wildly pounding heart—but for a moment, she couldn’t speak.

After a long pause, she stammered: “He Chen… he saw me. He looked right at me.”

“That’s it?” Fang Yifan scoffed: “You’re overthinking. It’s so far away—even if he happened to look over, he’d only see a blurry shape. Only you can clearly see him. Why are you freaking out?”

“You don’t understand!” Qiao Yingzi didn’t know how to explain.

Huang Zhitao, however, seemed to understand vaguely—she grasped what her best friend meant.

Her best friend had been peacefully watching—then suddenly, the person being watched turned his face directly toward her, locking eyes with her. And that person was the school’s universally recognized hunk—saying his eyes sparkled like stars wasn’t an exaggeration.

And her best friend adored stars and oceans—her family was rich, her father had spent a fortune buying her a dedicated astronomical telescope, and she’d gazed at the night sky countless times.

Watching someone’s private dream was already morally uneasy and thrilling; now came the suddenness, the allure, the emotional pull—all five elements colliding. Her best friend was caught completely off guard—her heart pounding like a deer’s, nearly leaping from her chest—wasn’t that understandable?

Fortunately, at that moment, the event host’s voice rang out. Huang Zhitao quickly reminded her friend to write her dream on her balloon.

Qiao Yingzi quickly wrote CNSA on her friend’s balloon.

“Let’s count down together: 10, 9, 8… 2, 1, go!”

Amid the crowd’s cheers, red, yellow, and blue balloons soared into the sky together—Qiao Yingzi and Huang Zhitao quickly released their own wish balloons.

On the playground, He Chen also looked up at the floating balloons.

He had indeed sensed someone watching him just now, turned his head—and met Qiao Yingzi’s gaze directly.

This was one of the results of his diligent practice of Crane Longevity.

In two more months, this superpower would expire. If he could keep it and turn it into his innate divine skill, then if the United States ever opened up presidential elections to foreigners, he could run without fearing daily assassinations.

He’d sense threats instantly—and if he kept training Crane Longevity to strengthen it further, maybe he could even learn from the legendary Reagan and calmly say, “Missed,” as bullets flew toward him.

That’s higher prestige than “Fight! Fight! Fight!” isn’t it?