"Investing takes more than just courage and vision. Your friend is still too young."

  Arthur Vance put on his usual authoritative tone, the demeanor of a listed company CEO. "It's good for young people to have entrepreneurial ideas, but there's a limit to everything. Even if her family is well-off, she can't just throw money around blindly."

  He looked at his daughter with a smile. "Does she understand AI? Does she know what stage the domestic AI industry is at right now? If she's throwing money at something she knows nothing about, that's just reckless. Maybe she'll get lucky, but you can't rely on luck forever."

  "Dad, you're being so preachy right now!"

  Scarlett furrowed her brows and shot back. "Let me ask you something—when Vance first entered the AI field, was it because you understood it? You probably still don't understand the technical side, right? You just know business. So essentially, Grace is no different from you!"

  "That's not the same thing!" Arthur retorted, unwilling to back down. "Vance has a professional team of hundreds. How can a few fresh graduates from your school's computer science department compare to that?"

  Scarlett snorted and curled her lip. "Say what you want. But if Grace's team actually develops industry-leading software, don't come crying to me later asking me to broker a partnership with her."

  With that, she put down her cutleries and stood up. "I'm done. Going upstairs to pack."

  Watching his daughter's retreating figure, Arthur just shook his head with a doting smile.

  Madam Vance chimed in, "Our daughter has always been willful, but she's never argued with you this much over anyone or anything. She's really made an important friend."

  Arthur nodded. "And it seems this friend is subtly influencing her. Hopefully it straightens out her temperament a bit. She's not a child anymore—she can't keep acting like one."

  Madam Vance shot him a look. "And who spoiled her?"

  Arthur laughed heartily, offering no denial.

  Grace had enjoyed herself last night and drunk a bit too much. This morning, her head was pounding.

  Remembering the night they'd ordered male hosts—she'd drunk plenty then too, but woke up fine—she couldn't help but suspect the expensive alcohol from last night might have been fake.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  She forced herself out of bed, downed a glass of water, and sat on the living room sofa for a while until she felt better.

  Checking her unread messages, she found seMauvel photos from her brother. Her mother was in front of a mirror, trying on a newly purchased dance outfit.

  "Sis, your idea worked perfectly. Mom bought a bunch of new gear online. She goes to class every day and even practices in her room at night."

  Grace smiled at the photos.

  Just then, a message from Scarlett popped up: "Half an hour till I'm at your place. Get ready."

  Grace replied with an OK emoji and dragged her groggy self into the bathroom.

  Half an hour later, a brand-new Bentley pulled up punctually at the villa entrance.

  Grace got in, greeted Walter and Charles in the front, then turned to Scarlett. "I think I drank fake liquor last night. My head feels like it's exploding!"

  "What?" Scarlett examined her face and nodded. "You do look a bit pale. Want to rest today and go back to school tomorrow?"

  Grace shook her head. "I'll just lie down in the dorm. Same thing."

  As the car slowly pulled away, Scarlett handed Grace a shopping bag. "Here are the shoes. When are you going to give them to Leo?"

  "Today, probably. Having a pair of men's sneakers in our dorm would just be weird."

  Scarlett nodded, then muttered, "I don't get why guys love sneakers so much. I've never even seen Charles wear them. Oh, he doesn't play basketball either."

  "Hey Charles, would you be happy if I bought you sneakers?" She suddenly leaned forward and asked.

  Charles glanced at her sideways and shook his head.

  Scarlett turned to Grace. "See? Not all guys are into sneakers."

  Grace smiled without comment, her gaze catching Charles's slightly stiff expression in the rearview mirror.

  Back at school, as usual, Charles carried Scarlett's luggage to the girls' dormitory building.

  "Give it to me. You don't need to go up." Scarlett stopped Charles as he started toward the steps, naturally taking the luggage from his hands. "Thanks!"

  Charles's brow furrowed slightly at her words, his expression turning strange as he looked at her.

  But Scarlett didn't notice. She grabbed Grace and headed into the dorm building.

  Charles stood there watching until Scarlett disappeared from view. Then, with a downcast expression, he lowered his head and turned away.

  Chatting and laughing, the two arrived at their dorm door. Scarlett had already pulled out her key when she noticed—the lock was gone. The door was slightly ajar.

  She'd added that extra lock herself for safety. Now it was completely missing, with even visible signs of forced removal.

  Startled, she blurted out, "Oh my god, burglars!"

  The stuff they'd left in the dorm was all designer stuff—valuable enough to attract thieves.

  But there were surveillance cameras in the hallway. Who would be so bold?

  Grace remained relatively calm. She pushed the door open, and both of them froze at the sight before them.

  The bed near the entrance, previously empty, was now neatly made, complete with blackout curtains. Personal items were arranged on the desk below.

  As they stood there stunned, a tall figure—easily 170 cm—emerged from the balcony inside.

  She had short, neat hair cropped at ear level. She wore a loose white shirt with the hem casually tied at her navel, paired with ultra-short denim shorts. Her legs were impossibly long with perfect proportions—not slender and delicate, but defined with visible muscle lines, radiating a powerful beauty.

  Scarlett's first instinctive murmur escaped: "Damn, those legs... such a waste not to put them in stockings..."

  The girl noticed them at the door. After a brief pause, she spoke first. "You're in 336 too?"

  Grace nodded and stepped inside with her things. "You're our new roommate? I'm Grace, sophomore in Astronomy."

  "Scarlett, sophomore in Bioengineering."

  " Mauve, sophomore in Fine Arts."

  Mauve had narrow, elongated phoenix eyes. Her face carried little expression as she spoke, giving off an aloof, distant vibe. Though she was greeting them, Grace could tell it was purely out of basic courtesy.

  "Mauve?" Scarlett looked puzzled, curious. "What’s your full name?"

  "My surname is Wiener."

  "Mauve Wiener?" Scarlett's confusion deepened. "That's such a strange name."

  Grace glanced at her and subtly shook her head, signaling that might not be the best thing to say.

  But Mauve Wiener seemed completely unfazed. She merely said flatly, "That's what everyone says."

  With that, she picked up the trash bag by her feet, walked past them, and left the dorm.

  Scarlett watched her retreating figure, then looked at Grace. "That girl is so weird too!"