To think she had forgotten such a momentous event.

Xia Xiaolan looked at the evening newspaper, merely muttering to herself.

She remembered the time of the Soviet Union’s dissolution more clearly because it was related to her personal interests—it was impossible for her not to remember that.

As for this event, she only had a vague memory, recalled from reading biographies in her previous life. Of course, in 1985 of her previous life, Xia Xiaolan was just an 8-year-old girl, adopted by her aunt, spending her days trying to win the affection of her aunt’s family. She wasn’t some prodigy—how could she have paid attention to such matters?

Xia Xiaolan shook the newspaper, thinking how lonely it was being a prophet sometimes.

Only about six years remained until the Soviet Union’s dissolution—who would believe her if she said it?

The date of the Soviet Union’s dissolution was clearly recorded in her notebook. The stories of trading trainloads of small commodities for Soviet aircraft could only happen when the Soviet Union collapsed and fell into chaos.

No merchant would refuse such a profitable business.

Such a momentous occasion was impossible for Xia Xiaolan to forget.

But that was the extent of it.

Xia Xiaolan only mused briefly about the news. This event wouldn’t significantly impact the domestic environment, and even less so her personal life.

She was just a small cog in the socialist machine—what was the point of worrying about such international affairs?

…

“Ziyu, why do you seem so distracted?”

School had been in session for several days, and Xia Ziyu had returned from Pengcheng. Wang Jianhua felt that while her body was back, her mind wasn’t.

What had happened in the Special Zone? Wang Jianhua sensed a growing distance between himself and Ziyu.

“It’s nothing, Jianhua. I want to take a walk outside campus. Will you accompany me?”

They couldn’t watch television at school, and Xia Ziyu had been restless all day. Du Zhaohui had overestimated her—she had no access to any intelligence sources. China’s intelligence agencies couldn’t have predicted that the Soviet Union’s previous leader would die on March 10th, and a new leader would take office overnight.

Xia Ziyu needed news reports for confirmation, to put her mind at ease.

Wang Jianhua could only accompany her.

“Second Uncle has finally found fortune, now working for a Hong Kong boss.”

Along the way, Wang Jianhua tried to make conversation. Xia Ziyu was distracted—being a bodyguard was hardly a stroke of fortune. Could a young Hong Kong master truly value a bodyguard? If her Second Uncle could still stand and continue working for Du Zhaohui, that would be one thing, but if he was confined to a wheelchair, Du Zhaohui would soon forget him.

But Second Uncle had fulfilled his purpose—without Xia Dajun, she would never have made contact with the Hong Kong young master.

She knew Hong Kong’s wealthiest were rich, but why would they meet with her without any connection?

It was because Xia Dajun worked as Du Zhaohui’s bodyguard that Xia Ziyu had the chance to speak with Du Zhaohui.

She had originally been confident about cooperating with Du Zhaohui, but the arrogant Hong Kong young master, relying on his wealth, hadn’t taken her seriously, forcing her to make a “prophecy.”

This was a step Xia Ziyu hadn’t wanted to take. After one successful prediction, Du Zhaohui might expect a second.

Yet she couldn’t succeed in predicting everything!

Xia Ziyu had no mood to deal with Wang Jianhua. Having witnessed the wealth of Hong Kong people, she felt particularly restless.

If Wang Jianhua was destined for success, and Wang Guangping couldn’t help him now, didn’t that mean his success would partly depend on her effort? Would she help by earning money from a snack stall, or after graduating, being randomly assigned somewhere, earning a fixed salary… Like this, she’d be just like her peers, falling from extraordinary to ordinary. Unable to take care of herself, how could she help Wang Jianhua advance?

Xia Ziyu was anxious. She used to think there was plenty of time, but now with Xia Xiaolan developing well, she didn’t want to lose to her and feared her revenge. She wanted to quickly find herself a new patron.

Xia Ziyu walked outside the school, heading straight for the newspaper stand:

“Uncle, do you have today’s evening paper?”

The newspaper vendor had never seen anyone so eager to buy a newspaper. “You’re in luck, the evening edition just arrived!”

He pulled out a paper for Xia Ziyu. She didn’t need to flip through it—the news was on the front page. Her fingers gripped the paper tightly, her lips pressed together, her cheeks trembling. This wasn’t nervousness but excitement. She had finally gotten something right, feeling as if all her previous frustrations had been released.

Seeing Xia Ziyu frozen with the newspaper, Wang Jianhua had to pay for it himself.

The newspaper vendor, noticing Xia Ziyu’s state, couldn’t help but glance at the paper himself. The Soviet Union changing leaders—why was this girl so excited? The vendor mused:

“I think this young lady’s mental state isn’t right. You should counsel her.”

The experienced vendor had seen much. Wang Jianhua and Xia Ziyu were dating—ordinary classmates wouldn’t stroll outside campus after dinner!

Xia Ziyu felt as if walking on clouds. Seeing her like this, Wang Jianhua could only escort her back to her dormitory.

“Ziyu, get some rest when you get back.”

Wang Jianhua was puzzled. Xia Ziyu had changed since returning from Pengcheng. Previously, she had revolved around him, dedicating herself entirely to him. Now, though physically present, her heart was elsewhere—for the first time, he felt uncertain.

What had changed Ziyu?

Was it something that happened in Pengcheng, or was it his father’s job transfer that bothered her?

Wang Jianhua couldn’t be sure.

Xia Ziyu couldn’t care less about Wang Jianhua’s feelings at this moment. She went upstairs like a ghost with her newspaper. Her roommates, who had been discussing something, immediately fell silent when she entered.

One roommate, who used to be closest to Xia Ziyu before growing distant, felt somewhat sympathetic seeing her dazed state.

“Ziyu, you failed two courses last semester. Buck up—you can retake the exams!”

In her freshman year, Xia Ziyu’s grades were above average, and she was well-liked by her classmates and teachers.

In the first semester of sophomore year, due to the tutoring class incident, she first received a major disciplinary action, her relationships hit rock bottom, and she failed two final exams… Everything went wrong.

The roommate meant well, but Xia Ziyu seemed unconcerned:

“Failed is failed. I’ll just retake them.”

She seemed to disregard the failed courses, so why was she distracted? Wait—this distraction didn’t seem to come from sadness, but excitement.

The roommate couldn’t understand—excited about failing two courses? She decided to drop the subject.

The other roommates exchanged meaningful glances—no one could understand Xia Ziyu now.

Xia Ziyu read the newspaper again, then folded it neatly and placed it under her pillow. She no longer cared about relationships with roommates. When she was in trouble, no one had helped her—these people meant nothing to her now.

Did she need to care?

Their lives would follow different paths—she had nothing to discuss with these frogs as well.

Now, she just needed to wait quietly for Du Zhaohui to seek her out. The initiative was in her hands!

That night, Xia Ziyu smiled even in her dreams.