At first hearing the poem, the Emperor found it catchy and easy to remember, with clear educational value. The wording wasn’t top-tier, but for a college freshman? Pretty impressive.
“Did your roommate write this?”
“Hmm… She said it was by someone named Li Shen. But I looked it up—no record of this poem exists.”
“I see…”
After a few more words with Zhou Xi and hanging up, the Emperor turned to the royal guards by the door—pretending not to overhear—and said,
“Look into this poem. Find out who wrote it.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Unaware her little poem had stirred the supreme leader of the Grand Zhou Federal Empire—triggering the world’s most formidable intelligence agency to investigate her—Su Wei was also on the phone. On the other end: the contact saved as ‘Wu Sansan’.
Wu Sansan’s call held no hidden agenda—just catching up, asking how Su Wei was, venting about her school.
This friend named Wu Sansan was clearly sharp—she’d gotten into Diju Film Academy. Might even become a movie star someday.
“Weiwei! You promised as kids: you’d be director, I’d be the star. Never thought you’d end up a ‘scientist’ while I took this path.”
“What scientist? I’m just a coder. Zero real science involved.”
“Still better than us! Zhaoge Royal Academy! Heard Fortune 500 companies snatch students up before junior year. You’ll earn a million a year fresh out of school.”
“A million? Pfft. You celebrities pay 800 million in taxes alone.”
Though Su Wei didn’t know this girl in her current life, a strange warmth bloomed toward her—maybe echoes from this body’s memories.
“Ugh, soon I won’t have time to call. Military training starts—and the school’s gone nuts: closed-off camp for a whole month! Dorm mates are frantically buying power banks. But a senior warned: phones get confiscated on sight.”
“Military training?”
Su Wei blinked, turning to Zhou Xi. “Xiaoxi, do we have that?”
Zhou Xi, tablet in hand, lollipop in mouth, mumbled, “Military training? What’s that? Don’t think so.”
“Soldiers come train us.”
“Nope. Never heard of it.”
“You’ve never had it your whole life?”
“Nope.”
“How envious…”
After two quick words with Zhou Xi, Wu Sansan’s voice turned plaintive on the line:
“Weiwei… changed your heart already? Found a new love interest days after leaving me?”
“New love interest?”
Su Wei sighed inwardly. *Making me sound like a heartbreaker. Not that I could be one anyway—no qualifications.*
“Xiaoxi’s just my roommate.”
“Roommate… that gorgeous, rich girl?”
“Yeah.”
Su Wei nodded. Zhou Xi perfectly fit the description.
“Listen, Su Wei—you’d better not sneak into girl drama behind my back! I’m watching. Spot anything off, I’ll fly straight to Zhaoge.”
“Uh… Zhaoge isn’t like other Grand Zhou cities. As the imperial capital, no tourist visas. Even visit visas barely pass.”
“You—! Fine! You’re something else, Su Weiwei! I’ll remember this!”
Wu Sansan, furious, hung up. Su Wei glanced at her phone, smiling wryly. *Why are girl friendships messier than romance?* (Not that she’d ever dated.)
Zhou Xi set down her tablet, crawled onto Su Wei’s bed. “Hey, Weiwei. Got a Twitter?”
“Twitter?”
Su Wei froze. *A name from her past life…* Come to think of it, she’d glimpsed Coca-Cola, Sprite earlier too. Overlaps between worlds? “Why a foreign name?”
“Oh, it’s an American company. Biggest global social platform now.”
“Uh… Grand Zhou’s the strongest nation. Why let an American firm grow this big? Doesn’t that control the narrative?”
“Well—Grand Zhou Royal Investments is Twitter’s top shareholder. With royal family backing, it became the world’s largest platform. HQ moved to Grand Zhou two years ago. Showcasing economic globalization, right?”
“…And America’s okay with that?”
“How dare they!” Zhou Xi’s eyes flashed. “Mere America stabbed Grand Zhou in the back during crisis, euphemistically calling it the ‘War of Independence’! That we haven’t flattened them yet is mercy. They dare act cocky before us?”
“Alright, long live Grand Zhou.”
Su Wei’s thoughts drifted to her homeland, China—the rising nation of her past life. She might never see its glorious return.
“Hehe~” Zhou Xi snuggled close, arm around Su Wei’s waist. “Ever consider switching nationality? To Grand Zhou?”
“Heard citizenship’s near impossible. Unless exceptional contributions, you need parents working in Grand Zhou Federal Empire for years—then maybe approval.”
“Pfft. Say the word. One call. You’re a citizen by tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’ll pass. I’m patriotic.”
Su Wei shook her head. Grand Zhou shared roots with Huaxia, but wasn’t Huaxia. Her country never wronged her—she wouldn’t leave.
“Alright then.” Zhou Xi dropped it. “Oh right—do you have a Twitter?”
“No.”
“Sign up.”
“Actually… my current cards are still Huaxia-issued.”
“Easy! I’ll send someone.”
A knock came. Su Wei opened the door—surprised to see the same three who’d delivered bedsheets days prior.
“Huh? Aren’t you the bedsheets crew?”
“Ah?! Hahaha…” Flustered, one recovered quickly: “Ah—bedsheets delivery’s just our side gig!”
“Oh! Side gig.” Su Wei nodded. “You work hard!”
“Young people should hustle! Here’s your SIM. Also applied for a bank card—Grand Zhou Royal Bank’s global card. Works at any ATM worldwide. Zero fees.”
“That good?”
Su Wei blinked. Some countries charged foreigners 20% fees. Fee-free globally? Seriously impressive.
“Thank you. Next time, I’ll handle simple things myself—no trouble.”
“No trouble at all!”
After polite farewells, they left. Su Wei returned, sighing to Zhou Xi,
“Next time… skip sending your family’s maids. I’m getting embarrassed.”
