Jiang Xuehan never expected the founder and former president of Dongda’s E-sports Club—whom Wu De had mentioned—would be none other than Liang Sheng. That despicable traitor had framed her three months ago using underhanded tactics to steal her position.

For a moment, she wanted to storm over and confront him. Demand why he’d repaid her kindness with betrayal. Why he’d slandered her so viciously.

But she held back.

What good would confrontation do? She had no evidence. Who’d believe her? Hoping he’d confess out of guilt? That was pure fantasy.

Her gaze flicked to the dorm manager, calmly peeling an apple nearby. If she were still Meng Han—the 175cm-tall guy who could work ten-hour shifts in a restaurant without flinching—she’d snatch that fruit knife and take Liang Sheng down with her.

But she held back again.

She wasn’t Meng Han anymore. Now she was a petite girl, 160cm tall and barely 42kg. She couldn’t overpower most girls, let alone a burly man like Liang Sheng.

The wise, bright eyes of the Indian elder flashed in her mind.

*Endure.* That was her only path now. Swallow the rage and killing intent. Plot in the shadows. Wait for the perfect moment to expose this snake and clear her name.

That storm of thoughts lasted only a second.

Jiang Xuehan’s eyes cleared instantly. She strode up to Wu De, feigning casual curiosity: “Is that handsome guy beside you the former president you mentioned?”

“Yep, that’s him!” Oblivious to the tension, Wu De beamed as he introduced them. “President Liang founded Dongda’s E-sports Club. He led us to countless victories. President Liang, this is Jiang Xuehan—the gaming prodigy I told you about. Honestly, if I hadn’t been sitting right next to her that day, I’d have sworn she was cheating.”

Liang Sheng looked down at the petite girl. His expression stayed neutral. “Female FPS gods are rare enough. A *true* master? Even rarer.”

Jiang Xuehan forced a sweet smile onto her slightly pale face. She extended a delicate hand. “Nice to meet you, President Liang!”

He gave her fingers a brief, cool shake. Then he checked his Rolex. “I’m late for an interview with *Donghai Daily*. Wu De—I’ve graduated and resigned. Don’t bother me about club recruitment anymore.”

“But President, Xiao Han’s talent is—”

“Enough. Catch up later.”

Liang Sheng slid into his Rolls-Royce, engine roaring as he sped away.

Wu De scratched his head, crestfallen. “I wanted him to mentor you personally… but he’s swamped lately.” He noticed Jiang Xuehan staring after the car. “Xiao Han? You okay?”

She turned back, calm. “Just… he seems wealthy and famous?”

“You don’t watch streams much, do you?” Wu De sighed. “He built our club from scratch in sophomore year. Won us endless glory. By senior year, he’d stepped back to focus on streaming. Now he’s the #1 live-streamer in the industry. Signed a 100-million-yuan contract with ‘EatFish’ platform—5 million yuan just as upfront payment!”

He expected awe. Instead, she merely nodded. “Impressive. Then why is your club facing disbandment?”

“Well…” Wu De slumped at the conference table. “Last year, he stopped managing us. His seniors were busy graduating. We new members… we failed. No tournament wins all year.” He flushed, embarrassed but honest. “That’s why we need you, Xiao Han. Lead us to victory at the National University League in two weeks. It’s our only chance to save the club.”

“I’ll join.” Jiang Xuehan didn’t hesitate. “Let’s handle the paperwork now.”

Relief washed over Wu De. “Easy! Just fill out a form at our activity room.”

Jiang Xuehan expected a cramped classroom. Instead, she gasped.

A spacious 40-square-meter room held ten gleaming PCs arranged in two rows. A conference table and whiteboard stood at the front. Every setup had pro-grade mice, keyboards, headsets—and chairs worth over 3,000 yuan each. Each rig easily cost ten thousand yuan.

“These were bought last year with club funds,” Wu De explained proudly. “Top-tier specs. Still run any game smoothly. Even these ‘Schiere MagicVoice’ headsets cost 2,200 yuan today.”

As a semi-pro gamer, Jiang Xuehan knew their value. “Then why disband the club?”

Wu De’s fist slammed the table. *Bang!* “Because these rigs are *too* good. Officially, they’re school property. The principal’s brother-in-law wants to open an internet café. He’s eyeing our equipment.”

Jiang Xuehan’s eyes narrowed. “So disbanding the club lets him buy them dirt cheap?”

“Exactly!” Wu De’s teeth ground. “This club was built on our seniors’ blood and sweat! Those ‘club funds’ were prize money they *earned*. Why should that crook profit?”

She understood his fury. “How will they disband you?”

“The student union votes on the proposal at month’s end. If we have no results by then…” Wu De trailed off, jaw tight.

Jiang Xuehan had her own reasons to stay. Liang Sheng founded this club. His shadow still lingered here. Staying meant tracing his steps, finding his fatal flaw. At worst, she could use the members to get closer to him. Gather leverage.

While she weighed this, Wu De handed her a form. “Sign here, Xiao Han. You’re one of us now. Our future’s in your hands.”

She signed swiftly, dark eyes blazing. “Don’t worry, Wu De. I won’t let them disband the club.”

(Sunny senior Wu De)