This new environment had, so far, fulfilled every fantasy Su Wei held about school life. Lying on the soft, plush bed sent a wave of comfort through her body and mind. She pulled out her phone and opened her contacts list first. To her surprise, in her previous life, she’d had only five contacts—and four were family: Grandpa, maternal Grandpa, Auntie, Su Xiu, and one labeled “Wu Sansan.”

After a brief hesitation, Su Wei called “Grandpa” to let him know she’d arrived safely.

“Grandpa, I’m at school already… Mm, it’s great here. I met my roommate—she’s really nice. Mm-hmm… Got it. Bye, Grandpa.”

His voice on the line brimmed with quiet relief. Su Wei wondered just how distant her past self had been—simply calling home moved him this deeply. She’d initially been puzzled; shouldn’t family have called the moment she landed? Clearly, some unresolved history lingered.

After hanging up, she opened the Chuan Yin app—this world’s global equivalent of WeChat. Unlike her sparse contacts, her Chuan Yin friends list was long. The group “Grade 12, Class 4: Friendship Forever” buzzed nonstop, with multiple tags aimed at her.

She tapped in. Classmates were sharing campus photos, urging her to post shots of Zhaoge Royal Academy. Though she didn’t know them, a tiny spark of vanity won out. *Such a lavish dorm deserves to be shown off.* She stood, filmed a quick tour, and uploaded it. Instantly, the chat exploded.

“Holy cow! Peak capitalist excess—a student dorm this fancy? Most five-star hotels aren’t this good!”

“Central AC *and* an air purifier plus humidifier in the corner?! So unfair! My dorm’s a four-person room with one sad electric fan!”

“Four-person? Try surviving an eight-person dorm!”

“Wait—focus! That bag on the desk is Hermès! Latest model this year, the kind money can’t buy! Su Wei’s roommate’s a total rich-and-beautiful girl!”

Su Wei blinked, glancing at the bag. In her past life as a guy, she’d never grasped designer nuances. Just then, Zhou Xi stepped out of the bathroom.

“Oh? You like the bag? Take it.”

“Uh… Nah, it’s fine.” Su Wei shook her head. “Just curious—how much is it?”

“No clue. My maid packed it.”

“…Right.”

Su Wei sighed inwardly. *Not knowing feels worse than hearing a crazy number.*

“Hey, you’ve got Chuan Yin, right? Let’s add each other!”

Zhou Xi plopped beside her, pulling out her phone. Nearly transparent, crystal-coated, radiating luxury. A single swipe revealed jaw-dropping resolution—Su Wei, a casual tech fan in her past life, was stunned.

“Whoa, gorgeous phone! What brand?”

“Brand? Hmm… Imperial Glory, I think?”

Su Wei realized asking an “otherworlder” like herself was pointless. She opened Yi Mai, searched “Imperial Glory”—only games popped up. A web search later, she found news: *Not yet publicly released.*

Respect for her roommate shot through the roof.

“Almost noon. Lunch together?”

“Sure! On campus or out?”

“Campus—I’ve never eaten here.”

Zhou Xi’s eyes lit up. Su Wei agreed; perfect chance to explore. Built across a mountainside, the academy sprawled over every developable patch, gardens aside. As a local, Zhou Xi narrated proudly: this was where global tech leaped forward.

At the mountain peak, the physics lab preserved relics of landmark experiments—like the free-fall test.

Thanks to relentless innovation and the Grand Zhou Empire’s tech-driven national policy, Grand Zhou had risen as the world’s undisputed power, its dominance unshaken for centuries.

Zhou Xi’s pride shone—but instead of grating, it felt endearing. *Maybe that’s the power of charm,* Su Wei mused.

Zhaoge Royal Academy’s cafeteria was vast, its architecture a global mosaic. Zhou Xi called it “multicultural and open.” Su Wei privately noted: that openness mainly served the Zhou Federation.

The Grand Zhou Federal Empire united forty-six nations—Grand Zhou, Great Britain, Switzerland, Ireland, Italy, Australia, Brazil, Indonesia, and more. The Grand Zhou Emperor, as Federation head, could dismiss member-state leaders or dissolve parliaments and militaries. In return, Grand Zhou offered generous aid: economic, technological, and beyond.

At this world-class academy, over 90% of students hailed from Federation nations. Su Wei and the seven others she’d glimpsed were likely *all* of Huaxia’s new intake. She’d also seen a post: non-Federation students faced terrifying expulsion rates. One failed subject. One professor’s doubt. And you were out.

Yet applicants kept coming—enduring hardships, applying again and again.

Because here, it was simple:

A paradise for the capable.

A hell for the mediocre.