Lin Cheng woke before his alarm.
That alone told him something was different.
In his previous life, mornings had been heavy—his mind cluttered with anxiety, deadlines, and the quiet fear of losing everything he had built. Now, his thoughts were clear, sharp, already moving.
Someone had noticed him.
He didn't know who yet, but the air felt subtly different, like the stillness before a storm.
Lin Cheng washed up, changed into simple clothes, and left the apartment. The campus was just beginning to wake. Students walked in loose groups, yawning, checking their phones, talking about exams and weekend plans.
Ordinary lives.
He blended in perfectly.
That was intentional.
He bought a cheap breakfast from a street vendor and sat on a bench, watching people pass. His phone buzzed.
This time, it wasn't an unknown number.
Finance Department Notice:
Student investment seminar today, 4 PM. Attendance optional.
Lin Cheng's fingers paused.
In his previous life, this seminar had been meaningless. A dull lecture by an old investor that most students skipped. He had skipped it too.
But now…
He remembered.
That "old investor" wasn't just a guest speaker.
He was Chen Guoan.
Lin Cheng finished his breakfast calmly.
So this was the test.
Across the city, Chen Guoan stood in his office, staring at the same stock chart from the night before. It had stabilized perfectly. No reckless dumping. No suspicious accumulation.
Clean.
Too clean.
"Set the seminar as scheduled," Chen Guoan said. "Make sure attendance is… encouraged."
His assistant hesitated. "Sir, are you sure it's worth—"
"If this person is who I think they are," Chen Guoan interrupted quietly, "they won't miss it."
Back on campus, Lin Cheng attended his classes as usual. He answered questions when called upon, took notes when required, and remained entirely unremarkable.
That was the most dangerous part.
At exactly 3:50 PM, he closed his notebook and stood.
The lecture hall was half full when he arrived. Most students sat lazily, some scrolling through their phones, others whispering to friends. No one paid him any attention as he took a seat near the middle.
At precisely 4 PM, Chen Guoan walked in.
The room quieted instantly.
He wasn't flashy. No expensive suit. No loud presence. Just a neatly pressed jacket, silver hair combed back, eyes sharp enough to cut through pretense.
"Good afternoon," Chen Guoan said. His voice was calm, steady. "I won't waste your time."
He spoke about markets. About timing. About restraint.
Most of it sounded ordinary.
Lin Cheng listened carefully.
Then came the trap.
Chen Guoan changed the slide.
"A hypothetical scenario," he said. "A small-cap stock rises without news. Volume is controlled. Movements are precise. What do you do?"
Hands went up.
"Follow the trend!"
"Short-term profit!"
"Insider trading!"
Chen Guoan shook his head slowly.
"Wrong," he said. "Those answers belong to people who arrive too late."
His gaze swept the room—and stopped.
Just for a fraction of a second.
On Lin Cheng.
Lin Cheng met his eyes calmly.
No challenge. No eagerness.
Only quiet confidence.
Chen Guoan smiled faintly.
"And what if," he continued, "the one who caused the movement exits early?"
The room fell silent.
Lin Cheng raised his hand.
Chen Guoan gestured. "You."
Lin Cheng stood.
"If they exit early," Lin Cheng said evenly, "it means the objective wasn't profit."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
Chen Guoan's eyes sharpened. "Then what was it?"
"To test reactions," Lin Cheng replied. "To identify observers. And to confirm whether the market still behaves as expected."
The room went completely silent.
Chen Guoan studied him for a long moment.
"And what would you do next?" he asked.
Lin Cheng didn't hesitate.
"Disappear," he said. "And prepare for the second move."
For the first time, Chen Guoan laughed softly.
After the seminar ended, students filed out excitedly, arguing over theories and buzzwords. Lin Cheng walked out calmly, hands in his pockets.
A voice stopped him.
"You didn't ask for recognition," Chen Guoan said from behind. "That's rare."
Lin Cheng turned.
"I don't need it," he replied. "Not yet."
Chen Guoan's smile deepened.
"Interesting answer."
They stood there for a moment—two men separated by decades of experience, staring at each other like chess players recognizing a worthy opponent.
"I'd like to talk again," Chen Guoan said.
Lin Cheng nodded once. "When the time is right."
As he walked away, Lin Cheng felt it clearly.
The test had ended.
And he had passed.