Lucky Golden Dragon in the 80s: My Dad? I Switched Him for a Better One

But Shanshan and Yu Xinxin, who was standing beside her, were completely baffled.

They exchanged a look, both seeing how ridiculous the whole thing was in each other’s eyes.

’What the hell?’

’Just because my life is better than hers, I have to be targeted?’

This kind of baseless resentment sounded completely absurd.

Shanshan couldn’t be bothered to listen anymore and waved a dismissive hand.

"I’ll let the school paper handle her. I’m done with this. Follow your procedures and decide on the punishment internally."

When she returned to her dorm, her roommates immediately surrounded her, demanding to know what had happened.

After hearing the whole story, the three of them fell silent for two seconds as the air seemed to solidify.

Then, shaking their heads and sighing, one of them said, "That mentality is just awful. You’re not good enough, so you blame someone else for being too talented? Where’s the logic in that?"

"Shanshan, whatever you do, don’t let someone like that get you down. It’s a total waste of emotion."

Another chimed in to persuade her, "It’s not worth it. Not at all."

Shanshan nodded, her expression serious.

"Don’t worry, I’m not mad. If no one’s jealous of you, it just means you’re not successful enough. I’m immune to it all. I’ve seen this happen so many times, I’m already used to it."

"Hahaha, you’re right!"

The three of them roared with laughter, nodding vigorously in agreement.

"What did you expect? You’re the youngest and highest-scoring top student in the university’s entire history. Who else would it be? It’s perfectly normal for someone at your level to be envied. If you weren’t so outstanding, they wouldn’t be paying you any attention."

On the surface, that was the end of the matter.

The university issued a public notice of criticism against the person involved, and the school paper published a correction.

Shanshan claimed not to care, but deep down she knew that a response was necessary.

Simply backing down would only make her seem weak and easy to bully, leading to more trouble in the future.

Although she talked about getting even, Shanshan didn’t actually do anything too drastic.

She didn’t have anyone pressure the girl privately, nor did she leak her name.

The most she did was have the university issue the girl a formal demerit.

And make her apologize to the entire school over the public address system.

On the day of the broadcast, the girl’s voice trembled so badly her words were nearly unintelligible.

After that, it was as if the girl had vanished off the face of the earth.

She would take a detour whenever she saw Shanshan, never even meeting her gaze again.

After that, Shanshan’s life at the university became much smoother.

Of course, more than half the credit for that had to go to Ling Zhiwei.

He was not only a star player on the university’s basketball team but also the vice president of the Student Union’s Arts and Culture Department.

He was incredibly popular, with a seemingly endless line of girls pursuing him.

The moment people heard she was someone often seen with Ling Zhiwei, their attitudes toward her would immediately warm up.

She decided to stop worrying about it and focus her time and energy on more important matters.

Her daily routine became increasingly disciplined, her schedule packed to the brim.

But the first-year university curriculum was nowhere near challenging enough for Shanshan.

She had long been hoping to skip straight to the second year.

She submitted her application materials a month in advance, complete with three letters of recommendation.

One of these was a handwritten note from an associate professor, stressing that she was more than capable of skipping a grade.

She also participated in a qualification assessment organized by the Office of Academic Affairs.

Unfortunately, the university refused to approve her request and wouldn’t budge.

But a minor setback like this wasn’t about to stop her.

If anything, it only fueled her drive to learn something substantial.

She woke up at six every morning and wouldn’t eat breakfast until she had memorized fifty technical terms.

Instead of resting during her lunch break, she would wait outside the faculty research office for professors to answer her questions.

At night, she would return to her dorm and continue reading and solving problems, only putting down her pen when the residential advisor enforced lights-out.

While others went out to have fun on the weekends, she would head straight to the academic research area on the top floor of the library with her backpack.

Within a week, she could independently prepare basic reagents, keeping her margin of error within the standard limits.

On this particular day, she had just completed the first experiment of her life entirely on her own.

As she left the lab, she deftly flipped off all the power switches, her movements fluid and practiced.

She was in a great mood and decided to treat herself and her roommates to a nice meal to celebrate.

But no sooner had she stepped out of the laboratory building’s main entrance than her path was blocked.

The murmur of a crowd reached her ears, and she realized a lot of people were standing outside.

She glanced down and saw a lit candle placed not far from her feet.

Looking further, she saw they were neatly arranged into a giant pattern.

The sky was growing dark, and the light by the entrance was dim.

A few clouds blocked the last rays of the setting sun, and a chill settled into the wind.

People going in and out of the lab building slowed their pace, standing on the sidelines to watch.

On the ground, a large number of candles were arranged in the shape of a giant, brightly glowing heart that was hard to miss.

A boy stood motionless, clutching a large bouquet of flowers. It was obviously a setup for a public confession.

Shanshan immediately stepped to the side, not wanting to intrude on someone’s big moment.

But she had barely taken two steps when the boy suddenly spun around and rushed toward her.

The crowd of onlookers let out a collective gasp.

The boy stopped abruptly in front of her, kicking up a bit of dust.

Shanshan froze, her brow furrowing as she took a closer look.

’Isn’t that He Suye? The guy who’s always hovering around.’

"Ling Xueshan! I like you! Go out with me!"

His lips were still trembling slightly after he spoke.

The moment the words left He Suye’s mouth, he dropped to one knee and presented the flowers.

He held the bouquet up with both hands, raising it to her eye level.

The rose petals trembled slightly, as if they too were awaiting her answer.

"Say yes! Come on, say yes!"

At least a dozen people joined in the cheering, and the atmosphere quickly intensified.

Shanshan took a step back, her expression serious.

"I’m sorry, He Suye, I don’t like you. Please get up."

The surrounding laughter and cheering died down abruptly, as if severed.

The once-excited atmosphere deflated as quickly as a punctured balloon.

But He Suye wasn’t fazed by the rejection. He had anticipated it and was prepared to wear her down.

"Shanshan, I know you’re rejecting me because you don’t know me very well yet. I’ll take the time to show you how sincere and persistent I am. I don’t expect you to accept me right now, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to let you get to know me. I promise I will spend my whole life treating you well and loving only you!"

The murmurs from the crowd started to pick up again.

Shanshan just shook her head again.

"No, you’re not my type. It won’t make a difference even if I get to know you."

"Shanshan, please, just give me one chance. I’ll treat you so well, I promise!"

He Suye’s voice trembled, thick with pleading.

Finally, the onlookers stopped cheering. Instead, they just stared at the two of them, ready to see how the drama would unfold.

He Suye was clearly starting to lose face.

He Suye and Shanshan were in the same year, but not the same class.

Their paths had never crossed, and they rarely even ran into each other by chance.

If not for this incident, they might have gone all four years of college without ever speaking a single word to each other.

His grades were considered top-tier, even for an honors class.

He had even been publicly commended by a drill instructor for his discipline during the mandatory military training for new students.

He originally had a chance to run for a position in the student union, but another name stole his thunder right before the results were announced.

He could have easily become one of the most prominent figures on campus.

All he needed was one opportunity for exposure, to cultivate his image, and to build some connections.

The entire trajectory of his next few years would have been completely different.