Riding the subway back to campus, the 3D motion sickness from gaming left me dazed and queasy, stomach churning with zero appetite.

Still, I pushed through the discomfort, headed to the second-floor cafeteria, and stopped at one of the school’s partnered congee shops. I ordered a bowl of century egg and minced pork congee and a cup of hot soy milk.

Maybe… this is just the quiet bitterness of life.

Crouched alone in a cafeteria corner, I slowly scooped spoonfuls from the bowl’s surface, blew gently to cool them, then slipped each bite into my mouth. Quietly, I mused to myself.

Hmm… Compared to last life—feverish at 40°C alone in a rented apartment, stumbling to the hospital after my parents were gone, burying my face in my hands and sobbing in the pouring rain—this really isn’t so bad.

Honestly, before experiencing it myself, I never knew 3D motion sickness could linger this long… Or did I just stubbornly play too long?

A quick online search showed near-unanimous advice for “What to do when 3D motion sickness hits?”: Stop gaming. Lie down. Sleep it off.

Just… sleep?

I checked the time.

5:39 PM.

At this pace, I’d reach the dorm around 6 PM. Volleyball practice started at 7. Even if I tried, I’d get maybe twenty minutes of rest—and most importantly… it wasn’t nap time.

Right now, Jiang Yuqing was likely gaming, Song Huijie probably eating dinner while scrolling videos, and Chen Xiaorui? Still arguing with her boyfriend on the balcony, most likely.

How could I possibly sleep in that chaos…?

Ugh. Whatever. Even if I can’t sleep, I’ll lie down, close my eyes. This dizziness is unbearable…

Opening WeChat, I saw nearly all the new contacts from helping Grandma sell desserts this morning had messaged:

“Hey beauty, what’s your name? Got a boyfriend?”

“When’s the next douhua sale? I’ll be there!”

“Middle school or high school? How old are you?”

Mixed in were a few gross ones:

“I’m a pro photographer. Interested in a paid photoshoot? ;)"

“Wanna hang out? I’ll cover the hotel.”

“You in *that* line of work? Name your price.”

The “New Friends” tab also showed 12 pending requests.

After replying politely to the decent ones—and wary that blocking might hurt Grandma’s business—I labeled the vulgar accounts “Sun Xiaochuan” and rejected the rest.

One more volleyball session tonight, then rest. You’ve got this, Xiaoxue.

Heartening myself, I finished the congee and soy milk quickly. Stepping out of the cafeteria, I updated my Moments: [“Swamped with part-time gigs. Might miss messages. Call for urgent matters.”]

“One-two-one! One-two-one!”

“Back row—speed up! Last three do 30 push-ups!”

“One-two-one! One-two-one!”

Descending the cafeteria stairs, two Martial Arts Club teams jogged past the main path ahead.

Just like military training: two messy rows, roughly a hundred students, evenly split genders. One team in tank tops and track pants; the other in crisp white doboks—taekwondo uniforms.

“One-two-one… Keep up, hurry!”

Once they vanished down the road, I crossed toward the dorms.

I recalled the Martial Arts Club had three branches: karate, sanda, taekwondo. Sanda and taekwondo squads usually warmed up with campus laps around 6:30 PM.

Since it’s Saturday… did they start early?

Glancing at the fading trail of runners, I entered my dorm building.

“Zhang Qi, stash these under your bed? No space left.”

“Okay.”

“Ugh… When’s Xiaoxue back? I’m dying to see her maid outfit…”

Pushing the door open, the dorm was pure chaos—

Cardboard boxes everywhere, snack wrappers and plastic bags littering the floor, unassembled shelves and signs blocking every step.

“Xiaoxue! You appear the second we mention you—Xiangzhi’s most reliable maid!”

Jiang Yuqing rushed over for a hug. “Whoa… Xiaoxue, you smell like smoke?”

“Don’t get close. Just came from the internet café. All grimy.”

Awkward, I gestured at the mess. “What’s this?”

“Mini convenience store!” Jiang Yuqing said matter-of-factly. “We told you! You, me, and Huihui run it. Split the profits.”

“And seriously—your maid outfit photos are blowing up in groups! Still doing that… rental girlfriend thing?”

Eyes sparkling, she gripped my hand. “Met any super generous clients?”

I gave a wry smile. “Don’t ask. Accompanied a client gaming… got motion sick.”

“Motion sick?”

“3D motion sickness. Feeling off. Need to lie down.”

I glanced at Chen Xiaorui’s bed. “Xiaorui out?”

“Left at noon. Haven’t seen her since.”

“Hmm…”

I grabbed a soft dress from my wardrobe and headed to the bathroom. “You set up. I’ll rest.”

“No way! You get motion sick from games? I PK in Jian Wang 3 daily and never feel a thing!”

Jiang Yuqing’s tone softened with concern. “You should build stamina. Guys game a lot—if you can’t handle this, future gigs might slip away.”

“Working on it, working on it.”

Changed, washed up, I climbed onto my bunk. “Sleeping.”

“Shhh!” Jiang Yuqing signaled Zhang Qi and Zhou Mengya. “Let Xiaoxue rest. She’s been with a client all day.”

“Got it…” they whispered, nodding.

I set my phone alarm, pulled the towel blanket close, and closed my eyes.

Whether from the motion sickness or sheer exhaustion, I drifted off almost instantly.

“Look at Xiaoxue… so unguarded. Like a sleepy kitten. So cute…”

“I’ve wondered. Since she came back days ago, she’s… brighter.”

“Makes sense. After brushing death’s door, perspective shifts.”

“Yeah…”

“…”

…

Twenty minutes later, my phone’s cheerful ringtone jolted me awake.

“Mmm…”

I yawned, scanning the empty dorm.

…Recovered?

I tilted my head, cupped my chest with a gentle shake, and stretched.

“Mew~”

Yep. Energy’s back.

Relief washed through me.

Guess Googling symptoms *sometimes* works.

…Did they already set up the stall downstairs?

Since the dorm was empty, I changed right by the wardrobe.

Hmm. Regular sportswear and sneakers for volleyball should be fine…

Please don’t tell me 32-year-old Wang Zhong has a fetish—making me play in a sailor uniform or school swimsuit? If so, I’m skipping this gig.

Sportswear on, alarm double-checked, I tucked the folding fruit knife from my desk into my pocket.

I cleared my backpack: Grandma’s zongzi and ciba, my Rem cosplay outfit, casual clothes—all stored in the wardrobe. Kept the mineral water Zhang Haosen bought me at the café.

Backpack lighter, I headed downstairs. Sure enough, Jiang Yuqing’s stall was set up at the girls’ dorm entrance.

Assembled shelves, a foldable cart, snacks and drinks neatly arranged with price tags:

Cheese curls: ¥0.5

Beef-mushroom strips: ¥1

Cola: ¥3.5

Small chips: ¥3

Large chips: ¥5…

Some marked up slightly; others matched campus store prices.

Evening post-dinner lull meant few buyers, but curious onlookers gathered.

“Is this allowed? School approve?”

“All cleared with admin.”

“Can we open one too?”

“Sure! Get school authorization—we welcome competition!”

While Jiang Yuqing chatted, I slipped quietly through the crowd and out.

“How’s the new bubble tea shop?”

“Delicious! Go with your boyfriend—second cup half-price!”

Passing two girls clutching elegantly wrapped bubble tea cups on the tree-lined path…

“Mmm…”

I glanced back, pulled out my phone, opened Alipay, checked my balance—and hesitated.

“…”

After I get back tonight… I’ll treat myself to one.