Zhao Qingyan quickly caught the doubt in Lan Grace's eyes. Wanting very much to befriend this high‑level pastry master, she answered at once.
"Kong Simon is the Kong clan's illegitimate son. Perhaps because of his status, his character's twisted—his brain's not quite right." She tapped a finger at her temple—so vivid that Lan Grace felt a little wrong‑footed.
How had the aloof, domineering beauty suddenly become so… down‑to‑earth?
Seizing Lan's daze, Zhao Qingyan continued, dishing the dirt. "He's drama, inside and out. Changed his name, wears a wig, dyed his irises, swans around in formal tails—thinks he isn't himself, but an Imperial noble."
Imperial—Lan Grace knew of them.
This was the interstellar age; humans had two main camps—Alliance and Empire.
The Alliance was composed of many star systems, with every kind of planet and bloodline—mixed and numerous.
The Empire were the earliest humans in space—bloodlines pure, fewer than the Alliance, but strong—strong enough to stand against the Alliance.
Zhao Qingyan finished, then added a reminder. "Everyone who knows the score avoids Kong Simon. Being friends with him is exhausting—no one has time to act out melodrama with him all day."
Lan Grace: "…"
She had never imagined that such a premium‑looking youth was entirely manufactured—performed!
And how had the cold beauty suddenly become so grounded?
"Er… out of curiosity, what's Kong Simon's birth name?" Lan asked.
"Kong Dongdong."
Lan Grace: "…"
No wonder he changed it. In her shoes, she would too.
…
Alliance exam monitoring room.
The three invigilators watched the Waste Star girl and Zhao Qingyan fall in together—eyes wide.
None of them had ever heard of Zhao Qingyan making friends.
Her image was of a lone genius.
Among her peers, hardly anyone could catch her eye.
And now—for her to team up of her own accord with a girl from a Waste Star!?
It was absurd.
Only Jin Ling, after the first surprise, thought of a possibility.
Was Zhao Qingyan only with the Waste Star girl for the pastries?
It suddenly felt very likely!
Were those pastries really so delicious?
Across a screen, across tens of thousands of light‑years, Jin Ling could not taste them—and could not imagine their pull.
He Bi, for his part, looked almost excited.
"See? With Zhao Qingyan as her bodyguard, who worries about her passing?" He grew more animated as he spoke.
"Ha! I'm already looking forward to what happens after she enters the Academy."
Lan Grace knew none of this.
All she felt was sudden happiness.
She recalled proposing to Kong Simon and the curly‑haired Fei Fei that they team up—only to be rejected as dead weight.
And now—without her saying a word—the powerful cold beauty, Zhao Qingyan, had taken the initiative: "Let's go together."
Lan Grace didn't even know what had happened. Why had Zhao Qingyan's impression of her flipped so fast?
Was it only because of those little biscuits?
Her off‑target guess—by chance—hit the mark…
Zhao Qingyan's change of heart was because of the pastries.
As for Zhao Qingyan's determination to "cover" her—how could Lan Grace refuse?
So on the training road through the forest, there seemed nothing dangerous left.
Night thinned; white edged the sky.
The artificial sun rose; the jungle's cool damp warmed.
President Ferrero's 24‑hour desert‑trial countdown ticked to zero.
Lan Grace watched Zhao Qingyan tap the terminal on her left wrist; a string of projected figures appeared in the air.
Eliminated: 865. Remaining: 279.
Lan Grace: "???"
What was this?
The entrance exam's progress data?
She looked down at her own drab, "seniors' dumbphone" terminal—and acutely felt the gulf between herself and others.
And the discrimination against those from Waste Stars.
Other differences between terminals she did not yet know; but at least at this moment, the exam progress display was entirely absent from her dumbphone.
Seeing the figures, Zhao Qingyan's expression did not change. She said, calm, "A little more than I expected. Seems not everyone sitting the exam this year is a fool."
She turned and looked at Lan Grace; her face softened. A small smile. "Come on. Everyone's in place. Let's go and grab a wave of nutrient solution first."
"Oh—oh!" Lan Grace was startled by the softness in Zhao's tone—then, belatedly, realised: Zhao Qingyan was going to "carry" her through the exam?
Had she really hugged a thigh already? When had she managed it??
…
Simulated planet, jungle region.
In a single day, Lan Grace got a deep look at Zhao Qingyan's overwhelming strength.
A boss was a boss. Every group they ran into—threes and twos—without exception, Zhao dropped in a handful of moves.
The killing power of that three‑foot sword—one sweep felled a tree so thick Lan Grace could not get her arms round it, as if it were paper—down with a crash.
Lan Grace almost suspected that the one she followed wasn't human at all—but a humanoid monster.
Beyond Lan, Zhao Qingyan's name was already known to many sitting the exam.
Some were unlucky enough to run into her—and didn't even have the courage to lift a hand. They handed over their nutrient solution obediently.
As Zhao saw it, they split the takings equally. Soon enough they had racked up enough nutrient solution to last more than half a month.
A day later, enemies met on a narrow road; Lan Grace and Zhao Qingyan ran into Kong Simon again.
More precisely, they happened to pass by when Kong Simon and the black‑curled Fei Fei were surrounded.