(6/10)
Yuying University
Chapter 391: Enjoy your campus life.
“So, what was written on the note?”
Wen Jianyan turned his head and looked at Orange Candy, asking.
Orange Candy unfolded the note. On it, only a single word was scribbled carelessly:
[Right]
…Right?
The two of them were stunned. They looked at each other and both showed confused expressions.
Right what?
Without any context, this hint seemed completely meaningless.
“Whatever, forget it.” Orange Candy swung her braids, not really bothered. “We’ll probably understand once we enter the instance anyway.”
Although she had absolutely no idea what Bai Xue’s hint meant, Orange Candy still treated her task as successfully completed. She happily stuffed the note back into her pocket.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, she turned to Wen Jianyan. “Oh right, since you helped me get Bai Xue’s prophecy, I should return the favor.”
Wen Jianyan: “Hm?”
Orange Candy asked, “Is there anyone in your team who’s overdrawn their talent too much?”
Wen Jianyan nodded. “Yes.”
Orange Candy pulled out a colorful lollipop from her pocket, unwrapped it, shoved it into her mouth, and said vaguely, “If you want to save them, you can bring them along. I don’t mind.”
Wen Jianyan froze: “What?”
“Did you forget?”
Orange Candy’s cheeks puffed out, her words muffled. “The point of these missions is to extend the life of streamers whose talents have been overused. Even if they’re not part of the Secret Council, if they enter the instance with us and complete the mission, they can still benefit.”
She shrugged: “Of course, that’s only if they’re worth saving.”
“The next instance isn’t too hard—rated only A.” Orange Candy crunched the candy with a loud crack and said nonchalantly, “So I don’t mind if you bring some deadweight.”
Wen Jianyan stood still, seemingly deep in thought.
He remembered Su Cheng had once suggested bringing Yun Bilan into the next instance. Back then, Wen Jianyan had refused because Yun Bilan’s condition had deteriorated too much. But Orange Candy and Su Cheng had never met, and she was making the same suggestion now as a way to repay his help…
Why such a coincidence?
“Alright, I’m off.”
Orange Candy seemed completely unaware of Wen Jianyan’s suspicion. She simply waved at him with a bright smile:
“See you in the instance!”
–
A new round of streaming began.
As one of the consistent top streamers, Wen Jianyan’s stream hadn’t even started yet, but teasers had already appeared on the giant screen in the live plaza.
On the enormous screen, the pale-eyed young man smiled down, his impact amplified alongside his face.
“Whoa, Wen Jianyan? Him again?”
“He’s streaming again? Wasn’t his last stream only ten days ago?”
“God, what a workhorse. I thought I wouldn’t see him on-screen for at least another six months—this is so touching!!!”
Fans following his channel were even more excited:
“AAAAHHHH YES!!! Finally another instance to look forward to!!!!”
“Lately the streams have been so boring. The instance difficulty is low, the streamers are either dumb or not entertaining at all. It always feels like something’s missing. Wen Jianyan’s channel really is the only one I trust.”
“Exactly!”
“And guess what—this time he’s going into the instance with other top-tier streamers! Orange Candy and Hugo are joining too!”
“???”
“Whoa!!! Orange Candy, the team battle expert, and that Hugo?!”
“OMG this is gonna be awesome!!!”
“Everyone, get ready!!!”
【Next broadacst begins in five minutes.】
In the same white space, countless floating transparent rooms displayed crimson countdowns slowly ticking down.
【05:00】
Wen Jianyan opened his backpack, examining the items he currently had.
Most of his items had been used up in the Xingwang Hotel.
That instance had continued the timeline from an instance previously entered by Hugo’s group—except Wen Jianyan had been operating in a nightmare-generated mirror version of it.
And mirror instances had no hidden items.
As a result, aside from the mirror shard obtained at the end, Wen Jianyan hadn’t gained any new items throughout the entire [Xingwang Hotel] instance.
Although the marketplace in the streamer space allowed buying tradable hidden items with points, high-grade, rare, and powerful items were never available on the open market.
Even so, thanks to his exceptional negotiation skills, Wen Jianyan still managed to acquire some potentially useful low-level items.
And since this time they were entering an A-grade instance, they should be good enough.
Wen Jianyan’s gaze fell on the apple sapling in his storage.
After only two instances without close observation, it had grown shockingly tall—almost unrecognizable.
Lush green branches drooped low, faintly revealing vibrant red fruit.
【Apple Sapling: LV7】
【Flower of Illusion Piercing: 2】
【Fruit of Lies: 1】
【Talent single-instance usage count updated. Cooldown reduced.】
In fact, even before Hugo mentioned it, Wen Jianyan had already suspected—based on Anise’s performance in the previous instance—that once someone officially joined the Secret Council, their talent usage limit would greatly increase. Otherwise, there’s no way she could’ve activated her talent so many times in a single run.
Although mentally prepared, Wen Jianyan was still slightly shocked seeing the actual numbers.
Now, even right after entering an instance, he could immediately use his talent.
And he could continue using it as the instance progressed.
Even knowing there were consequences to using talent, Wen Jianyan had to admit—it was a powerful temptation for anyone.
【5, 4, 3】
He took a deep breath and closed the stream interface in front of him.
【2, 1】
The blood-red countdown hit zero.
【Welcome to Nightmare Live Broadacst. The next show is about to begin.】
【Our motto—Entertainment to death!】
Amidst high anticipation, the [Yuying Comprehensive University] instance lobby opened.
A string of stats appeared:
Lobby Difficulty Rating: A
Viewer Appeal: B-
Historical Exploration Progress: 21%
Excited viewers rushed in—and were stunned.
“…Huh? Yuying Comprehensive University?”
“Why this one?”
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s up with this instance? Why are you guys reacting like that? Is it really hard?”
“No…”
“Then what is it?”
“Yuying Comprehensive University, huh… I get it now… I’m out.”
“Ughhh, with this team composition, why put them in this instance? Such a waste! It’s not even worth a B in viewer appeal. C would be generous…”
“Huh???”
“Don’t you know?? This instance is so boring!”
Wen Jianyan opened his eyes.
He found himself holding a suitcase, standing in a vast plaza. Not far away, between two dull gray, peeling columns, stood an open gate.
The sky was oppressively dark and heavy.
Above the gate were three large words:
[Yuying Comprehensive University]
Wen Jianyan squinted slightly.
Looks like… this is the instance he’s in this time.
He turned to survey the surroundings.
Besides him, the plaza was filled with many others. With one glance, Wen Jianyan immediately realized—everyone here was an anchor. There wasn’t a single NPC.
Anchors stood in small groups, cautiously scanning the environment, whispering to one another with solemn expressions.
Wen Jianyan was a little surprised.
Wasn’t the number of participants… a bit too high?
The largest instance he had ever participated in had only around 200–300 people, but here? Nearly a thousand were gathered.
That was pretty extreme.
As he was lost in thought, a familiar voice called out, “Hey!”
Wen Jianyan turned toward the sound.
It was Orange Candy.
In the drab setting, her fiery orange-red hair was particularly eye-catching. Around her stood several familiar faces Wen Jianyan had seen in the [Changsheng Building] instance. They recognized him too and nodded.
Orange Candy grinned and waved. “Over here!”
Wen Jianyan walked over.
“Isn’t the number of people in this instance a little much?” he asked as he looked around.
“It’s fine. Thousand-player large-scale instances aren’t common, but not unheard of either.”
Orange Candy shrugged, not surprised at all.
“Besides, I knew the scale when I took the mission.”
She shook the braids on her head and said, “Our team’s average rating is too high. If we entered a small instance, the difficulty would spike to unbearable levels. But with so many people in such a large instance, even if the difficulty scales, it won’t scale too much.”
That’s exactly why she had no qualms inviting Wen Jianyan—also a Secret Council member—even with Hugo on the team, without worrying about pushing the difficulty beyond manageable levels.
“I see,” Wen Jianyan nodded.
As they were talking, the rest of their team finally arrived.
Hugo walked over from a distance, dressed in black tactical gear. His tall frame and aura gave off an intimidating presence as he cut through the crowd.
Next were Su Cheng and Yun Bilan.
They spotted Wen Jianyan and jogged over.
Wen Jianyan nodded at them.
After much consideration, he had ultimately decided to bring Yun Bilan along.
What Orange Candy had said was indeed tempting.
Even though entering an instance with an overdrawn talent came with risks, under the Nightmare system’s intense pressure, no one could avoid instances forever.
And this current instance was the only one Wen Jianyan knew that might improve Yun Bilan’s situation.
Especially with Su Cheng’s recommendation…
He had no reason to keep Yun Bilan out of the team.
However, before they entered the instance, he made a three-point agreement with Su Cheng and Yun Bilan.
“First, avoid using your talent unless absolutely necessary.”
“Second, in the next instance, I’m just a regular team member hired to join the mission like you two. Orange Candy is the captain. Understood?”
“Alright, looks like we’re almost all here.”
Orange Candy glanced around and raised his hand to pull a phone out of his pocket. “Time to check what our mission is this round.”
“Hmm…”
Staring at the screen, Orange Candy furrowed her brows slightly.
“What are we looking for?” Hugo asked.
Before entering the instance, they already knew the task involved finding a specific item, but what exactly it was remained unclear—after all, Nightmare’s anti-spoiler system was notoriously strict.
“It doesn’t say specifically.”
Orange Candy frowned and turned the phone to show the others.
Wen Jianyan looked over.
There was only one line of text:
【Mission Objective: Retrieve the contents of the third drawer in the principal’s office desk.】
While they still didn’t know exactly what item they needed, at least the location was clear.
Zzz… zzzzz…
At that moment, the sound of electric current suddenly crackled above their heads, shattering the silence of the square.
Wen Jianyan froze and looked up toward the source of the sound.
At the school gate, a rusted loudspeaker was strapped to a utility pole.
“Freshmen, please bring your admission letters and complete your registration as soon as possible.”
“Freshmen, please bring your admission letters and complete your registration as soon as possible.”
“Freshmen, please bring your admission letters and complete your registration as soon as possible.”
The same announcement, repeated three times in the exact same tone, then silence returned to the plaza.
The vast square fell back into dead quiet.
The anchors exchanged glances, each seeing the confusion in the others’ eyes.
Admission letters?
Wen Jianyan was stunned for a moment. He looked down at the suitcase that had automatically appeared in his hand when he entered the instance.
He squatted down and unzipped it.
The others quickly caught on and squatted down to check the contents of their suitcases as well.
Soon, Wen Jianyan retrieved an admission letter from a compartment in the suitcase.
Unlike a regular admission letter, this one was blood red, as if it had been soaked in blood. It gave the disturbing illusion that blood might start seeping from it at any second.
He opened it.
Wen Jianyan,
Congratulations on being admitted to Yuying Comprehensive University. Please bring this letter to report to the school by 9:00 PM on ■■/■■/■■.
Principal: Zhang Yunsheng
Yuying Comprehensive University
■■/■■/■■
“What kind of legitimate university has check-in at 9 PM?” Su Cheng frowned.
“What time is it now?” asked Orange Candy after reading the letter.
It was too dark to tell the current time accurately.
Wei Cheng checked his phone and froze. “…It’s 8:50.”
Which meant there were only ten minutes left until the deadline.
“Let’s go.”
The group exchanged looks and stepped forward.
They were the first team on the square to react. Soon after, other anchors began realizing the significance of the admission letters and surged toward the school gate.
There were already a lot of people in this instance. Once they started moving, it was like a dark tide flooding toward the gate.
Everyone was eager to complete registration before the time ran out, fearing elimination over such a minor thing.
Orange Candy’s team was the first to arrive at the school gate.
The gate stood wide open. Through it, they could vaguely see old grey buildings and a few dim streetlights casting a ghostly light.
Looking in, the campus was eerily empty, pitch-black and silent, radiating a sense of dread.
The team exchanged a glance and came to a silent agreement—not moving any further.
Another impatient group of anchors rushed past them and into the campus. Surprisingly, nothing happened. They didn’t disappear, nor were they dragged into the darkness screaming.
Their retreating backs grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
“Looks like… nothing happened?” someone nearby muttered.
Other anchors, like Orange Candy’s team, had also paused and began to relax slightly.
Another group entered the campus.
More and more people passed through the gate, but a growing number of anchors chose to stay put.
They seemed to be suppressing the urge to rush in, pacing anxiously nearby but refraining from actually stepping inside.
“Looks like this batch of anchors isn’t too bad,” Orange Candy commented lazily, glancing behind him. “Not too many ran in to die.”
Hugo raised an eyebrow. “Agreed.”
Although they hadn’t used any talents or tools yet, their experience alone made them sense something was off the moment they approached the gate.
While the campus looked calm and peaceful, any veteran of instances would know something was wrong.
Anyone with common sense knew that to “complete freshman registration”, there had to be teachers or current students waiting to assist.
Had there been any sort of sign or figure waiting inside—even a terrifying ghost—they would have felt more at ease.
After all, that might just be part of the freshman test.
Even if there was danger, it could be dealt with.
But the school being completely empty meant they’d have to find the registration office from scratch.
And the time limit? Brutal.
From the loudspeaker announcement to finding the letter and reaching the gate, the whole process had taken less than fifteen minutes. With nearly a thousand people in this instance, it was obviously impossible for everyone to rush in, locate the office, and complete registration in time.
This was an A-level instance, and it had only just begun—there was no way it would start off with such an unreasonable demand.
So there was only one explanation:
It was a trap.
In fact, if one thought back carefully, the school never explicitly said registration had to be completed by 9:00 PM.
The loudspeaker had said to register “as soon as possible”, while the letter said to “report to the school by 9 PM.” In this setting, people would naturally assume the two meant the same thing, but clearly, they could be interpreted separately.
They had already reported in.
Now, they just needed to wait for registration.
Time ticked by.
At exactly 9:00 PM, a pale-faced teacher walked out of the school.
Behind him followed two students, both wearing armbands with messy embroidery reading:
[Student Council]
A chill ran down everyone’s spine.
But at the same time, a sense of relief washed over them.
They’d gambled right.
They shouldn’t have entered early.
None of them had seen these three walk out of the building, but at exactly 9 PM, they had appeared at the gate.
Which meant the peaceful campus they’d seen was a mere illusion—not reality.
Had they rushed in before completing registration, no one knew what might have happened.
After all, the anchors who had rushed in still hadn’t returned.
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes, glancing toward the campus.
Beyond the grey columns, the gate stood open. The campus inside remained dark and silent—utterly empty.
The freshmen who had gone in early had vanished as though swallowed by an invisible mouth, leaving no trace behind.
His expression turned thoughtful.
The instance had only just begun, yet Wen Jianyan had already picked up on certain…
Characteristics.
Malice and traps.
It seemed this instance would require more attention to detail.
Even so, judging from what they’d seen so far, the overall difficulty of Yuying Comprehensive University didn’t seem too high.
“Freshmen, come register one by one.”
The teacher sat down at a shabby table the students had dragged over. He pulled out a pen and tapped the desk.
Orange Candy’s group stepped forward.
The teacher glanced at their letters, found their names on a list, and marked them off. Then he handed them student IDs. “Go get your student handbooks over there.”
The moment Wen Jianyan took the Freshman Handbook from a Student Council member, a familiar system voice rang in his ears:
“Welcome, anchor, to A-level instance [Yuying Comprehensive University]. This instance is an open, non-timed instance!”
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes.
This wasn’t his first time entering an instance of this type.
“Open” meant anchors had high freedom of movement—plenty of opportunities for exploration and item collection—but also weak guidance, requiring sharp awareness to clear it.
“Once conditions are met, the anchors may clear the instance.”
Wen Jianyan opened his phone. His identity card had already updated.
[Identity Card]
Name: Wen Jianyan
Age: 18
Occupation: Freshman at Yuying Comprehensive University
Related Background: After completing high school, you enrolled at a local university called Yuying Comprehensive University. However, it’s strange—you’d never heard of this school before being accepted…
【No survival time limit is assigned for this instance】
【Clear condition: Collect 100 academic credits to qualify for withdrawal】
A credit system.
Wen Jianyan blinked.
As he was deep in thought, two familiar status bars appeared in his field of vision—ones he hadn’t seen in a while.
One red: Health bar.
One blue: San bar.
Wen Jianyan was briefly taken aback.
Normally, these only appeared after entering special locations, but this time, they’d shown up right at the start?
What did this mean?
While Wen Jianyan pondered the deeper implications of the instance’s mechanics, the rest of his team finished registration and received their student handbooks from the Student Council.
“Freshmen who’ve received their handbooks may now enter the campus,” one of the Student Council members said.
His face was ghostly pale, his irises a strange iron grey. An eerie chill seemed to radiate from his body, and his voice was stiff as he spoke.
Maybe it was just their imagination, but he seemed to smile faintly:
“Enjoy your campus life.”
