In the days that followed, Su Wei kept her word—immersing herself in the program destined to make her a fortune. She spent less and less time with Zhou Xi, who seemed to have found her own rhythm. Aside from Zhou Xi slipping into Su Wei’s bed each night to share the covers, the two rarely chatted during the day.
Developing software wasn’t magic—it demanded knowledge and legacy wisdom. So Su Wei buried herself in the Zhaoge Royal Library, home to the world’s most exhaustive collection: rare manuscripts, unique copies, even classified archives. By rights, a freshman like Su Wei shouldn’t have accessed restricted zones—like floors five and above. Yet no one stopped her. Among those classified files lay groundbreaking computer science insights. Su Wei absorbed them eagerly, accelerating her progress dramatically.
As Lunar New Year neared—the Zhaoge Royal Academy’s holiday break—the software finally passed its initial test!
“Phew…”
Su Wei leaned back with a deep sigh. Zhou Xi, quietly reading beside her, shot her a puzzled glance but stayed silent. Over months, Zhou Xi had often skipped campus because Su Wei was too busy. But Su Wei was just that captivating—Zhou Xi missed her terribly after only days apart.
“Done!”
“Done?” Zhou Xi blinked, as if she’d misheard. “Your software is done?”
“Mm. A few minor glitches, but basically successful.”
“Let me see! Let me see!”
Zhou Xi dashed to the sofa, squeezed beside Su Wei, and peered at the screen. “Show me!”
Su Wei smiled, pointing at a “?” icon. “This one.”
“Why a question mark?”
“I can’t draw a logo.”
“Easy! One call and I’ll get you one.”
“Later. Weren’t you dying to see the software?”
“Right, right! Show me!”
Eyes sparkling, Zhou Xi watched as Su Wei double-clicked. The program launched—no splash screen, just a minimalist window with a single button: *Select Folder*.
“What is this? You’ll become a billionaire with *this*?”
“Just watch.”
Su Wei selected a random downloaded game. As the progress bar ticked, lines of cryptic code scrolled below—each dotted with red highlights. Zhou Xi, no coder, saw pure hieroglyphics.
“What does this mean? Explain!”
“This tool detects bugs in games or software. This tiny game? Seventeen bugs flagged. Bugs cripple development—programs run fine one hour, crash the next. Teams scour code for days, find nothing. My software solves it. What once cost months and tens of thousands of Zhou yuan now takes one click. Everything falls into place.”
“Is it really that awesome?”
Zhou Xi’s eyes widened with dollar signs—then narrowed. “What if hackers crack it?”
“Impossible. Defense code is aerospace-grade. Unless they breach the Grand Zhou Space Agency, no one touches it.”
“I see.” Zhou Xi’s gaze turned sly. “Hey, Wei-Wei… partner up? I handle promotion, sales, operations. Seventy-thirty—you take seventy.”
“Nope.” Su Wei shook her head, meeting Zhou Xi’s eyes. “Fifty-fifty.”
“Mwah!” Zhou Xi kissed her cheek, beaming. “Leave it to me! I’ll make you a billionaire with this.”
“I’ll take your words as a blessing.”
Su Wei hadn’t signed a contract—but she wasn’t naive. One altered character in the uncrackable core code would collapse the whole program. She could rebuild and relaunch alone. Trusting Zhou Xi like this? A quiet test of character.
“I head home in a few days. Looking forward to your news.”
“Huh? You’re leaving?” Zhou Xi’s smile dimmed. “You’ve been so busy… I wanted to show you around during the break.”
“We’re together daily. Plenty of time ahead—missing a few days won’t hurt.”
“Okay… Booked your flight?”
“Not yet…”
“I’ll book it!”
Before Su Wei reached for her phone, Zhou Xi had already booked it: depart day after tomorrow, return on the sixth day of Lunar New Year. Return date pushed early; departure delayed two days. Su Wei said nothing. Zhou Xi had sent maids to tidy her room, cook soup—spending a few days with her was only fair.
“Ugh—I haven’t slept properly in months. Let me nap!”
Su Wei stretched, tossed her clothes onto the carpet, and slipped under the covers without changing. Zhou Xi swallowed hard, resisting the urge to join her. Instead, she opened Chuan Yin on Su Wei’s laptop, packed the software, and sent it to “Xiao Ya.”
“This software holds my fifty percent stake. Patch flaws, launch it. One week—I want it viral worldwide.”
Xiao Ya replied swiftly: “May I ask, Di Ji, what price point?”
“Your call. I’m counting on this to make me a billionaire.”
A quiet mismatch lingered: Su Wei meant *Chinese yuan*. They assumed *Zhou yuan*.
Regardless—the software exploded overnight. In this era of big data, every profession, every project left digital footprints. Companies, developers, individuals—across countless channels—they all heard of the miracle tool. Skeptical at first, then stunned by repeated proof. The entire industry erupted.
