An Han had already gone through three counselors.
On average, one per academic year.
And the one standing before him now was newly assigned at the start of his junior year—quite young, probably just over thirty. Since classes had only begun less than a month ago, An Han had only seen him from a distance and hadn't formally met him yet.
Who could've guessed their first proper encounter would be so awkward?
He hadn't even put his jacket back on yet. Though his chest wasn't particularly prominent, the slight swell was still noticeable—especially compared to An Han's otherwise flat frame.
Instinctively hunching his shoulders inward and quickly pulling on his jacket, his face flushed crimson, but he tried his best to stay composed.
"Aren't you sick?" the counselor asked, sizing An Han up.
Dressed in a clean white short-sleeve shirt, his fair skin made the boy look unusually delicate and refined. The counselor hadn't expected any of his students to be this pretty.
At the sight of An Han, he couldn't help but feel an instant fondness, and his originally skeptical tone softened into an ordinary question.
"Yeah… I was just about to go find you to ask for leave."
"Long Xing said you were so sick you couldn't even get out of bed—running a fever over 40 degrees Celsius."
"…"
An Han's face turned green. At least now he'd gotten his jacket on, so he didn't have to worry about anyone seeing his chest anymore.
This was absolutely ridiculous—ridiculous squared!
Long Xing actually claimed he had a 40-degree fever? How was he supposed to explain that?
In the past, he'd have panicked and fumbled helplessly, but thanks to the system's training, he remained surprisingly calm and began strategizing how to handle the situation.
First, keep pretending to be sick.
So he ignored the counselor's skeptical remark and maintained his sickly demeanor, forcing a weak smile: "Counselor, I really am sick. It's not as bad as Brother Long said, but I definitely can't attend class today."
The counselor's eyes were filled with disbelief.
An Han silently cursed inwardly—why did the system's last skill lottery give him "Advanced Vocal Skills" instead of acting talent?
"Come in and sit down. I'll get you some water." The counselor turned around and switched the air conditioner back on.
Without hesitation, the counselor strode straight into the dorm room, glancing around curiously. "If you're fine, just go to class."
The dorm looked like any typical male student's room—trash bins on the floor were messy, belongings scattered haphazardly, clothes tossed everywhere. Yet each person's desk remained relatively tidy. The air carried a faint, peculiar scent.
At first, the counselor assumed it was the usual foot odor, but after taking a deeper sniff, he realized it smelled more like a light milky fragrance.
That was odd—most guys who used air fresheners went for lemon or floral scents. He'd never seen anyone use milky-scented ones before.
"I really am sick," An Han said, pouring himself a glass of water and sitting down. He turned to the counselor with a helpless smile. "Fever and diarrhea."
His throat felt dry, and he nervously swallowed before instinctively taking a few sips from his cup.
Only then did the counselor shift his gaze back to An Han's face—and noticed the boy's cheeks were indeed flushed bright red, consistent with someone running a fever.
But then again, the energetic way he'd just kicked open the door didn't exactly scream "bedridden."
"You're An Han, right?"
"Mm-hmm."
An Han sat rigidly upright, back straight, hands resting on his thighs—looking every bit the obedient, well-behaved student.
Come to think of it… what was this counselor's name again?
Perhaps noticing his confusion, the counselor sat down on Wang Sheng's chair and introduced himself: "This is our first meeting, right? I'm Ren Chi."
"Mm."
Ren Chi casually picked up the water glass on the desk. An Han suddenly realized it was the same cup he'd just drunk from and was about to warn him—but it was too late. Ren Chi had already downed the entire glass in one gulp.
"Why'd you only pour so little?"
"…"
"I brought a thermometer. Let's check your temperature."
"Uh…"
You're way too considerate!
He could fake symptoms, but how was he supposed to fake a fever?
An Han never imagined taking a sick day would be this complicated. His previous two counselors would've just asked for a reason and handed him a leave slip without question. But this Ren Chi was unusually persistent—even showing up at his dorm in person.
Maybe Long Xing's claim about the 40-degree fever had genuinely alarmed him… after all, a fever that high could be life-threatening.
An Han's eyelids twitched nervously as he took the thermometer and tucked it tightly under his armpit, subtly wiggling his arm back and forth, hoping friction might raise his temperature.
"Any other symptoms?"
"Just diarrhea… and chills all over."
Shouldn't the system be stepping in right about now to show its usefulness?
Give me a few optional tasks—then I could pick the easiest one and know exactly what to do next.
Head bowed low, terrified his lie would be exposed, An Han knew once the thermometer came out, there'd be no more faking it.
"I took medicine earlier."
He needed to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"Oh." Ren Chi nodded. "You can take it out now."
Biting his lip, An Han pulled out the thermometer and, with trembling hands, held it up to the light to check his temperature.
Just over 36 degrees Celsius.
Absolutely no sign of fever.
"What's it say?"
Now what?
[Option 1: Keep pretending to be sick and convince Ren Chi. Reward: Stock market trends for the next ten days.
Option 2: Charm your way out of it. Reward: Adorable physical traits.
Option 3: Fail the class. Reward: Random attribute point.]
The task descriptions were so blunt they made An Han want to gnash his teeth in frustration.
He'd be a senior next year and starting internships—if he failed a class now, he'd have to stay behind for makeup exams or even retake the whole course. What a hassle!
Though failing seemed like the easiest choice according to the options, An Han absolutely refused to give in.
After all, today's skipped class was entirely the system's fault! If his body had been normal, he wouldn't have been so terrified he couldn't even attend class.
"Hey, Brother Ren~"
He looked up at Ren Chi, batting his big eyes innocently. "Can we just… let it go?"
Since failing the other tasks would also lead to failing the class anyway, he might as well give it one last shot.
An Han chose Option 2: Charm his way out of it.
"Something wrong with your eyes?"
"My eyes feel a bit dry…" An Han nervously handed over the thermometer.
Ren Chi couldn't help but chuckle. He hadn't been a counselor for long, yet here he was already dealing with a weirdo.
After glancing at the thermometer's reading, he fell silent, waiting to hear An Han's final excuse.
"I took medicine earlier—it probably brought the fever down."
"But my stomach still hurts!" An Han immediately clutched his abdomen, stood up unsteadily, and staggered toward the balcony. "Oww~ It's acting up again! Must've forgotten to cover up last night!"
"Get your ass to class!" Ren Chi kicked him lightly on the butt. "I'll excuse you from the first period, but you'd better be in the second!"
"Got it!"