Chapter 217: Refusing Guidance

Chapter 217: Refusing Guidance

The screen went black at the worst possible moment.

Lin Chen stared at it, stunned. His mouth opened, but no words came—only a silent scream caught in his throat. If he had been holding tea, he would’ve spat it all over the keyboard. His hand trembled slightly as he bent down, hurriedly plugging the power cable back in. The moment it clicked into place, he mashed the power button.

As the boot-up screen flickered to life, he glanced sideways at Mu Zhaozhao.

She kept her big, adorable doll-face composed, blinking innocently as she softly muttered, “Lin Chen, I didn’t mean to… it was an accident. You’re not mad, right?”

He should have been furious, but looking at that soft, round face and those glistening puppy eyes, his anger just deflated like a popped balloon. “It’s… it’s fine,” he forced a smile. “You didn’t do it on purpose.”

The computer took nearly forty seconds to fully load. As soon as the desktop appeared, Lin Chen double-clicked the trading software and logged into his account with trembling fingers.

The moment the charts loaded, his heart sank.

The stock had already taken a nosedive, the sharp V-shaped drop like a dagger to the chest. Without wasting another second, he scrambled to dump everything, but now that the price had fallen so dramatically, buyers had disappeared. His stocks just sat there in limbo, unsellable.

All he could do was wait.

【Ding! Host successfully sabotaged Lin Chen’s moment of glory. +600 Villain Points. Lin Chen’s protagonist halo -30. Villain halo +30.】

The system’s voice was a sweet stroke across Wang Haoran’s mind. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but his fingers didn’t stop moving across the keyboard.

In just twenty minutes, his original 5000 had grown to 5890.

A 17.8% return in less than half an hour.

That wasn’t just good—it was

monstrous

.

But he wasn’t done. His eyes flicked across the stock tickers, identifying new spikes. He continued calmly buying and selling, precise and unshaken, his gains ticking upward like a metronome.

Time passed, and at 10:25 PM, Liu Yue’s voice echoed across the computer lab, gentle yet firm. “Five minutes remaining. The exercise is almost over.”

She, too, had been trading—though not with the modest 5000 the students received. No, she operated a professional account with a starting balance of 50 million M-dollars. Over the last fifty-five minutes, she had turned that into 58.25 million—an astounding 16.5% increase, which in local currency was over 53 million yuan.

And yet, her expression wasn’t particularly proud. That was simply the standard she held herself to.

With her own trades settled, she stepped away from the podium and began walking the rows between students, quietly observing their progress.

Most still focused intently on their screens, and she didn’t interrupt them. But then she passed by Wang Haoran… and froze.

Her eyes were drawn to the numbers on his screen.

Initial balance: 5000.

Current balance: 8270.

She blinked, thinking she had misread. But the numbers were clear—his return was 65.4%.

Liu Yue’s heart skipped a beat.

She had been investing since the age of ten. Her personal best over a one-hour trade was 88.6%. Among her students, the top performer had managed 32.2%. That was already enough to be considered genius-level.

But Wang Haoran’s performance… it

doubled

that record.

“Impressive,” she murmured, her voice unexpectedly warm. “What’s your name?”

Wang Haoran turned, giving her a student’s polite smile. “Wang Haoran, Professor Liu.”

She gave a small nod, making a mental note to remember the name.

Wang Haoran didn’t linger. With time slipping away, he immediately dove into his next trade—planning to go all-in on a hot stock. His finger hovered above the confirmation key.

Then Liu Yue’s voice interrupted him. “That electric vehicle stock is peaking. You’re buying at its highest point. This could end in massive loss.”

Wang Haoran didn’t look back. “I still think there’s more room for it to rise. I want to buy.”

She frowned slightly, her voice turning stern. “I’ve analyzed that stock. It’s built on hype—pure bubble. It could crash at any moment and wipe you out completely.”

“I know,” he said. “It

is

a bubble. But I believe it won’t pop just yet. If I buy in now and sell at the right moment, I’ll make a killing.”

Liu Yue’s brows drew tighter. “Do you seriously think your financial instincts are sharper than mine? I’ve already warned you that this stock is poison. Why won’t you listen?”

“I’m confident in my judgment.”

Her expression darkened. “You may have talent, but you’re stubborn—and in finance, being too headstrong is a death sentence. Even if you make money now, someday you’ll lose everything in a single night. That kind of arrogance is what destroys people in this field.”

But Wang Haoran wasn’t listening anymore. He saw the countdown in his mind—the price curve still had another three-minute climb. If he hesitated, the opportunity would vanish.

Without another word, he clicked

Confirm

.

8270—all in.

Liu Yue stared at the screen, her face flushing with frustration. “Hopeless,” she muttered, spinning on her heels and storming off.

She didn’t want to look at him again. The more she did, the more pissed off she felt.

Liu Yue didn’t just value talent—she valued

discipline

. A good student, in her eyes, was one who listened, absorbed, respected experience.

Even if she only imparted 20% of her knowledge to someone, that was enough to change their fate in the market. But this guy? He didn’t want her guidance. He

rejected

it.

【Ding! Liu Yue’s favorability toward the host has dropped by 20. Current total: 0 (strangers).】

Wang Haoran blinked at the notification.

He’d grown used to seeing good news about girls’ affections climbing. This? This was the first time a heroine’s goodwill had plummeted to zero.

Liu Yue returned to the podium, her expression ice cold. “Time’s up,” she said sharply. “Everyone—hands off your mice and keyboards. Now.”

There was no room for debate. Her earlier severity had already earned her absolute authority. Everyone, even the most confident students, froze instantly.

Wang Haoran followed the instruction as well. After all, that stock he bought would keep rising over the next twenty minutes. He didn’t need to sell yet.

And so, with calm fingers resting by his side and a storm quietly building in the market, he leaned back slightly in his chair.

While the rest of the class caught their breath, he was already counting the profits that were about to arrive.