After seeing Lin Chang off, Pei Qian quickly received a transfer notification.

A total of three hundred thousand yuan, all of which became Pei Qian’s personal property.

The system wouldn’t interfere with others giving money to Pei Qian, as long as the money was received reasonably and wouldn’t arouse suspicion about the system from others.

But Pei Qian couldn’t spend all this money himself. He had to set aside a portion for props, and this amount couldn’t be small.

Simply put, it was to prevent Lin Chang from becoming suspicious of Pei Qian’s behavior.

It wouldn’t make sense if Pei Qian took this money, spent it on wild entertainment, and then there was no follow-up. That would be unreasonable.

Lin Chang might not care at all how Pei Qian spent the three hundred thousand, or he might care—it was hard to say.

If Lin Chang happened to ask about it on a whim, Pei Qian needed a reasonable explanation. Although this possibility was small, he had to be prepared for it.

So, after taking the two hundred thousand yuan acting fee, Pei Qian also needed to spend the remaining hundred thousand on props, make a show of it, and produce some kind of result.

This project was destined to fail, but that was fine. Lin Chang had already prepared for the possibility that the three hundred thousand would be wasted.

As long as Pei Qian showed that he didn’t really need this money to spend but was just playing around, and Lin Chang wouldn’t become suspicious, that would be enough.

Looking at the three hundred thousand quietly sitting in his bank account, and seeing his assets increase to over 370,000 yuan, Pei Qian couldn’t help but sigh.

Running a company and working hard to earn ten million converted to only a hundred thousand, yet casually doing some side work brought in two hundred thousand.

After discovering this clever operation, it seemed there was even less reason to convert personal assets through profits…

……

July 1st.

Pei Qian opened his computer and checked his grades.

Hmm, all just barely passing…

“I feel like I’ve been infected by Old Ma.”

“Forget it, I’m busy trying to lose money now, I don’t have much energy for academics. Being able to get grades like this is already not bad.”

Pei Qian consoled himself.

He was majoring in liberal arts, where exams mainly relied on memorization, so cramming to pass wasn’t difficult.

Currently, Pei Qian doesn’t want to drop out.

It wasn’t that he valued the diploma, which was meaningless to him, but mainly… he had nothing else to do after dropping out.

Now, Pei Qian attended classes whenever he felt like it. When he was lazy, he would sleep late or play games in his rented apartment. He only needed to check on the company before settlements, working hard to avoid losses.

Even if he dropped out, he would just be staying in his rented apartment all day, and his life wouldn’t change at all.

Moreover, Pei Qian didn’t want to expose his identity.

Until now, many people around him, including some of his classmates, only knew that Pei Qian had acted in “Mr. Pei’s Daily Life” and regarded him as a minor internet celebrity, but they didn’t know he was the boss of Tenda.

Pei Qian’s concerns mainly came from three aspects.

First, issues with his parents.

Second, if his classmates knew Pei Qian was a boss, their relationships would probably become a mess. People from school would constantly approach him, asking for jobs or loans, which would be too annoying.

Third, although Pei Qian was a boss, his actual disposable personal assets were too limited. He feared that if people who resented the wealthy or reckless individuals fixated on him and discovered some clues, things could escalate.

Pei Qian couldn’t expose the existence of the system, so it was better to avoid unnecessary complications. It was best not to let too many people know his identity and avoid these unnecessary risks.

His current life was quite comfortable, and Pei Qian had no intention of changing it for now.

Of course, if he could occasionally lose a few million, that would be even better.

The summer vacation was approaching quickly. Many students who had finished their exams and checked their grades had already gone home early, while Pei Qian’s new cycle of loss-making journey was just beginning.

Pei Qian planned to make a list to carefully calculate the current profit and loss situation of each project and plan his future loss-making route.

After opening Excel and writing two lines, Pei Qian opened the browser to look up some information, then habitually opened AiLiDao and started watching anime.

Before he knew it, more than an hour had passed.

“Hmm, what was I planning to do earlier?” Pei Qian suddenly remembered this question.

Just then, Pei Qian’s phone rang.

Seeing the name displayed on his phone, Pei Qian was surprised.

“Uh… Teacher Zhang?”

It was his university counselor, Zhang Wei.

Pei Qian was puzzled. Why would Zhang Wei call him?

He didn’t hold any positions at the university, and with his grades, scholarships, and honors were unlikely to involve him. As for anything else… that was even less likely.

Zhang Wei’s tone was friendly: “Pei Qian, I heard that you’ve acted in a short drama series and joined a studio, currently doing quite well. Is that right?”

Pei Qian suddenly understood—he was talking about Fei Huang Studio.

He had acted in the short drama “Mr. Pei’s Daily Life,” and he was rarely in the dormitory, which his classmates all knew about.

So his classmates thought he was busy with this studio, and this news had reached Zhang Wei through various channels.

Pei Qian straightforwardly admitted: “Yes. Is there something you need, Teacher Zhang?”

“Very good, very good. I always thought you were keeping a low profile, but you’ve been busy with your career. And you’ve still maintained excellent academic performance. You’re capable!”

What the hell, “excellent academic performance”!

He had barely passed…

After Zhang Wei’s praise, Pei Qian felt a bit embarrassed.

This was normal. Many university counselors didn’t care about students’ grades; comparatively, they cared more about employment rates.

For someone like Pei Qian, who would find a job immediately after graduating from university, there would be no employment issues, so Counselor Zhang would have less to worry about.

However, Zhang Wei’s praise had another purpose.

“It’s like this. With graduation season approaching, some outstanding students in our college who are in their senior year haven’t secured jobs yet. I wonder if you could recommend them to the leaders at your studio and help with their employment?”

Outstanding students? Then you’re asking the wrong person.

Pei Qian instinctively wanted to decline: “Wouldn’t it be better for them to go through campus recruitment?”

Zhang Wei coughed twice: “Campus recruitment… they haven’t found suitable jobs, otherwise they wouldn’t have dragged it out until now.”

Pei Qian immediately understood.

Oh, so they just haven’t found jobs!

Zhang Wei’s “outstanding students” was a euphemism, almost causing a misunderstanding.

In reality, they should be called “students left over from campus recruitment”…

Although Handon University was a key university with an employment rate of around 90%, there was still a group of students who couldn’t find jobs, which was normal.

Moreover, even within that 90%, there was a lot of inflation. After all, every year was proclaimed as the “most difficult graduation season,” and finding a satisfactory job was hard. Most students found jobs just to make do and might resign after two or three months.

Some were even nominally attached to their relatives’ companies, and these were also counted as employed.

For universities, especially counselors like Zhang Wei, improving the employment rate was a major headache. The employment rate was considered a performance metric for the college and teachers, so they would do everything possible to increase it.

Besides encouraging students to actively participate in campus recruitment, they would also proactively contact companies, solving problems one by one if possible.

Zhang Wei wanted to contact the person in charge of Fei Huang Studio through Pei Qian to see if there was a way to arrange one or two of these leftover students into the studio.

Although the chances were slim, what if it worked?

Pei Qian couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. You’ve found the right person!

Handon University was a key university, and people who could get in weren’t low in intelligence, that was true.

But now, this batch of people under Zhang Wei’s supervision had already been filtered by companies!

It was now graduation season, already July. Those who had secured postgraduate recommendations were already enjoying themselves; those who had found jobs had either already started or were about to start; those who had decided to try again for the postgraduate entrance exam had already informed their counselors.

The names still on Zhang Wei’s list were people who wanted to find jobs but hadn’t received offers despite going through countless rounds of campus recruitment.

Didn’t this perfectly match Pei Qian’s requirements?

Pei Qian immediately said, “Don’t worry, Teacher Zhang, I’ll take care of this. Why don’t you send me the list? Or notify them to come for an interview at the company?”

Zhang Wei hadn’t expected Pei Qian to agree so readily: “Ah, good.”

After exchanging a few courtesies, Pei Qian hung up the phone.

Soon, Zhang Wei sent these people’s resumes to Pei Qian’s email.