“Instead of wasting your ti gossiping, why don’t you spend more of it reading serious financial analysis?”
Before she even stepped into the classroom, Liu Yue had already heard the scattered discussions among her students. Her face darkened imdiately. She knew exactly what they were talking about. That “husband” post from Weibo—how could it not have reached their ears by now?
Her tone turned stern and cold as she stepped through the door, speaking with sharp authority. If she didn’t reassert control now, if she let that mont of impulsive softness on Weibo fester… she’d lose all command over this classroom.
She swept her gaze across the lecture hall, face unreadable. “Have you all forgotten what I told you during the last practical lesson?”
The room instantly stiffened.
Except for Mu Zhaozhao and Wen Jing, every student snapped to their feet like soldiers answering roll call.
This was a theory class, not a practical session, and usually, students could stay seated for it—but no one dared risk it now.
Liu Yue picked up a piece of chalk, wrote out today’s lesson topics on the blackboard, and began outlining her lecture notes.
And just then, soone strolled in, completely unbothered, hands in pockets.
It was Wang Haoran.
The student who, up until yesterday, had been granted special privileges in her class—freedom to co and go, exemption from attendance checks. But after what happened online, Liu Yue could no longer afford the appearance of favoritism. Her authority had taken a hit. If she didn’t put Wang Haoran back in his place now, how would she face the rest of the sester?
She didn’t hesitate.
“Late students will stand outside the door and listen,” she said, voice crisp and unwavering.
Wang Haoran had already made his way down a few rows, clearly planning to find a seat. At her words, he raised an eyebrow and turned to her.
“Professor Liu, didn’t you say your word was gold?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Of course it is. But the privileges I granted you take effect one year from now.”
Wang Haoran chuckled. “Professor, that’s a bit shaless, isn’t it?”
Her expression didn’t shift. “Final interpretation rights are mine.”
“I object.”
“Objection overruled. In my classroom, I am the teacher. You’re the student. You follow my rules. Unless, of course… you’ve already surpassed . Then perhaps you don’t need my lessons anymore.”
A smirk touched Wang Haoran’s lips. “Sounds like a challenge. Rember that little agreent we made before? Turning ten thousand into a million?”
Liu Yue’s eyes flickered with a hint of caution. She rembered the joke—at least, she’d taken it as one.
“You an the one where you promised to turn ten thousand yuan into one million?”
“Exactly that.”
Sothing about his calm, confident gaze made her heart skip. A sliver of doubt word into her chest.
To protect herself, she anded the terms. “Fine. If you can turn ten thousand into one million in three days, you win the right to attend my class however you want.”
“Actually,” Wang Haoran corrected her with a grin, “it was one week.”
“I’m pretty sure it was three days,” she replied smoothly, fully aware she was twisting the truth—but unwilling to admit it.
Wang Haoran sighed, but didn’t argue further. Instead, he casually walked up to the front, to her desk.
“Then how about this? Let borrow your laptop for a mont. I’ll log into the account I used during the practical lesson, and you can see for yourself how much money’s in it.”
Without waiting for permission, he sat down and opened her laptop.
Liu Yue, naturally, carried her laptop everywhere. She needed it for teaching, for analysis, for trading—her life revolved around this machine.
She leaned in curiously, watching him type.
And then she saw it.
Balance: ¥1,190,000.
Liu Yue’s expression imdiately darkened. “This is a joke, right? Fake screenshots, fake money. Do you think this is funny?”
Wang Haoran didn’t even blink. “The account has a full transaction history. Whether I deposited the funds or earned them—you can see that with a glance.”
With narrowed eyes, Liu Yue opened the transaction records.
Hundreds upon hundreds of logs. Her eyes blurred just trying to follow them.
But the conclusion was irrefutable.
The account started with ¥10,000.
Now it had ¥1,190,000.
And all within three days.
Liu Yue felt the strength drain from her legs.
Her knees buckled slightly, and she nearly collapsed on the spot—until Wang Haoran reached out and steadied her.
She instinctively grabbed onto his arm, her mind reeling.
【Ding! Liu Yue’s Favorability 10. Current: 40 (Very Friendly)】
【Ding! You have influenced the plot. Gained 500 Villain Points!】
She stared at him, eyes wide. “How did you do that? In just three days… turning ten thousand into over a million?”
The classroom was dead silent.
Every student, including Lin Chen, stared at Wang Haoran like they were seeing him for the first ti.
Lin Chen, too, had once achieved a sky-high return in three days. But that had been a once-in-a-decade market anomaly. A stroke of luck, even by genius standards.
Yet right now, the M market was far from ideal—circuit breakers had halted several stocks, and prices were flatlining.
And under those conditions…
One hundred tis profit?
Impossible.
“This guy has to be using a cheat,” Lin Chen thought, brows furrowed.
Liu Yue waited for an answer.
But Wang Haoran simply smiled. “That’s classified.”
And with that, he turned inward, summoning his system.
The Charm Halo was currently available for activation.
Liu Yue’s Favorability had hit 40. He only needed 10 more points to trigger a qualitative change—from friendliness to affection.
This was the perfect mont.
He activated the halo—
【Ding! Charm Halo activation failed.】
Wang Haoran blinked.
What?
He’d seen this happen before—with Qiu Qianwei and Ji Shuiyao. The Charm Halo only worked after he’d demonstrated excellence in their respective fields.
But this ti?
He had just achieved a financial miracle. This was exactly Liu Yue’s domain. The numbers spoke for themselves.
“System, why did the Charm Halo fail?” he asked silently.
【Host, a ‘status barrier’ exists between you and the target. Charm Halo cannot override this dynamic.】
“What status barrier?”
【Teacher–student.】
Ah.
He exhaled, understanding dawning in an instant.
Of course. She was still his professor. And no matter how rational or modern she appeared, she clearly held so pretty conservative values underneath that cold exterior.
In her eyes, perhaps a teacher dating a student was simply out of bounds.
If he wanted to break that barrier… dropping out might be the only answer.
But that would co at too high a price.
Unless…
Wait.
He wasn’t just a student.
He had another identity. A hidden one.
A mysterious persona that carried influence, power, and awe.
A grin curled at the edge of his lips.
Got it.
He already knew exactly what to do next.
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