Chapter 119: Looking Cool Is What Matters Most; Everything Else Is Useless

The day after receiving our high school diplomas, it began to rain again.

Fortunately, it was only a light drizzle, which did nothing to dampen the enthusiasm of Class 3-2 as they feasted and engaged in hours of raucous screaming and singing at the KTV. As a renowned figure in the local underworld—a man even the big boss of the Honglian Nightclub had to show respect to—Zhang Wuyong was toasted repeatedly. Yet, his tolerance for alcohol had truly increased; he felt as though he could drink a thousand cups without succumbing to intoxication.

Eventually, the party came to an end. Once everyone parted ways, it was unlikely that most of the class would ever see each other again. Even if, years down the line, someone were to try and organize a class reunion, many would surely be absent. After all, the Second High School was not a prestigious institution, and while most in the class could manage to get into an undergraduate program, the divide in their academic performance and future paths was stark. The social strata they would eventually inhabit would likely be just as clearly defined.

Taking advantage of the occasion, Zhang Wuyong went to visit the place where Yan Yan and her fellow girls worked, streaming live on the internet. These girls simply sat there, facing their cameras, occasionally smiling or thanking the "uncles" or "big brothers" who sent them gifts. Zhang Wuyong couldn't help but marvel that such a thing could actually generate money; youth and beauty were indeed powerful advantages. Many of them weren't even truly beautiful, but it didn't matter. Korean plastic surgery and Chinese beauty filters were the black magic of this era. Besides, compared to the cost of Korean surgery, Chinese beauty apps were essentially free—high quality, low cost, and incredibly cost-effective.

That evening, Zhang Wuyong bought a deck of cards. Adopting his "Flawless" title, he studied a video by a foreign magician, watching him perform card tricks over and over again. After nearly ten viewings, Zhang Wuyong began to practice shuffling and cutting the deck. His movements were as fluid and pleasing to the eye as those of the magician who had spent years mastering the craft. Anyone watching would have assumed he had practiced for years as well. The only difference was that while the magician could pull a spectator's chosen card from the deck or shuffle to a specific suit, Zhang Wuyong’s hands moved the same way, yet the cards he produced were wrong, and the suits were never what they should have been.

He did some research. The magician’s cards were standard, with no tricks involved, but the quality of the cardstock made a difference. It was hard to achieve the same results with cheap decks from a corner store. Furthermore, one needed to understand basic techniques like the "double lift," where a magician appears to flip one card but actually flips two. Even though Zhang Wuyong had learned the motions, he only flipped one card at a time, so the outcome was naturally different. Additionally, when the magician performed rapid shuffles and cuts, the order of the deck remained unchanged—a nuance that was impossible to discern just by watching a video.

Of course, once the mechanical movements were "copied," the rest was merely a matter of understanding the principles and nuances of magic. Once he grasped the magician’s sleight of hand, it was only a matter of time before he could replicate the entire routine perfectly. There were even online discussions about which brand of cards was best for practicing such tricks; different brands varied in thickness and smoothness. Some were designed with rougher backs to make them easier to grip, which made them unsuitable for certain card tricks.

Zhang Wuyong stood before the mirror, constantly spreading, shrinking, cutting, and shuffling the cards. In his hands, the deck moved like the strings of an instrument, shifting and changing in unpredictable ways. At one moment, they fanned out like a peacock; the next, they were stacked into a solid block. *Swish, swish, swish*—the mesmerizing faces of the cards blurred under his controlled movements. The corners of his mouth curled into a self-assured smile. Never mind if the suits were mixed up or the effect wasn't perfect; he just wanted to know: did he look cool? He had been constantly receiving friend requests from girls lately, yet he had never truly thought of himself as a handsome man. But now, playing with the deck, he felt he looked absolutely dashing.

He cut the deck into two halves and held them toward the mirror. After a series of rapid shuffles, the deck seemed to shrink, though he made no extra movements. Finally, he turned the cards in his left and right hands toward the "audience," gave them a slight flick, and—leaving one card in each hand—the rest of the deck simply vanished.

"Damn!" Combined with the system’s storage slot, it wasn't just cool; it was lethal! Even he thought he looked amazing. Could he actually go on stage and perform close-up magic now? He opened the system interface. The remaining cards were divided into five stacks, placed within the five slots of his system storage. He had pondered it many times and still found the system storage to be quite bizarre. Why would the system create something like this? But he stopped worrying about it; for someone like him who hadn't transmigrated, as long as it was useful, that was enough.

That night, the rain grew heavier. By the next morning, he sent a WeChat message to Tongtong, asking if she was up and if Auntie Zhu was at home. She didn't reply for a long time. Zhang Wuyong figured she must have stayed up late reading again; she seemed obsessed with science fiction these days.

He opened the window; outside, the rain had turned into a torrential downpour. It wasn't until noon that he received a reply: she had just woken up.

"Mom said the rain is too heavy, so she isn't coming back for lunch." She followed this with a "scared" emoji.

"So you haven't eaten yet?" Zhang Wuyong asked.

"Before Mom went to work this morning, she steamed some rice and cooked some dishes for me."

"Then I'll come over to hang out with you in a bit!"

Tongtong replied with another "scared" emoji. Zhang Wuyong chuckled to himself—Tongtong was indeed clever. She had been worried from the moment he asked if her mother was home early that morning! But no matter how scared she was, it was useless!

Zhang Wuyong pulled out the girl’s cosplay outfit he had purchased. While practicing his magic earlier, he had retrieved it from the storage slot and folded it by his bedside. His mother was out playing mahjong, and his father wasn't home. He wasn't in a rush; he took his time showering and styling his hair, making himself look fresh and clean—like a boss.

He checked the time: 1:30 PM. Even though Auntie Zhu had told Tongtong she wouldn't be back, lunch was a break period, and one never knew if she might return unexpectedly, so he had to be patient. You can't rush these things! At this point, Auntie Zhu would be heading back to work soon, so she definitely wouldn't return. Only then did he take the costume and head across the hall.

He rang the doorbell. Moments later, Tongtong opened the door, her face flushed red. When he had asked about her mother and said he was coming over, she already knew she was going to be "played with" that afternoon. It wasn't his first time at her place; if he wanted to come over, he could just come—why the need to ask? Her heart was racing with anxiety, but no matter how much she panicked... it was useless!