291: Leave it to me.

Zhong Huai's neck stiffened.

That rhetorical question was devoid of any emotion, yet it felt heavier than ten thousand rebukes.

His face, which had just turned red from embarrassment, paled even further in an instant.

"A 288-star assessment... you're going to set the questions?"

Yeah.

He had just taken full responsibility, thumping his chest and saying it was simple.

But how to test it?

This question had come full circle again.

“Cough.” Zhong Huai gave a dry cough, forcing himself to hide his lack of confidence. He stiffened his neck, putting on a "this is no big deal" posture.

“Boss, you're just splitting hairs here.”

“Whether it's 288-stars or a thousand stars, is there a difference?” Zhong Huai held up two fingers, then snapped them together into one. “Essentially, they are both impossible tasks!”

He had found his logical pivot point, and his whole being instantly came back to life. He paced back and forth in the training room, spittle flying as he spoke.

“Since it's 'impossible to complete,' then our task isn't to let him 'complete' it, but to let him 'fail' reasonably!”

“We just need to set a hurdle he can't possibly clear, and that's it. If he fails, it's a matter of his ability, not a problem with our questions. That way, we can also give an account to Teacher Gao!”

Zhong Huai slapped his hands together, giving himself a thumbs-up for his own wit.

Didn't this just bring him back to his original line of thinking?

Simple, crude, and effective.

However, Qin Zhan did not respond.

He simply turned around and looked back at the virtual tactical board.

On the screen, next to the glaring number "288," was Lin Yu's laughably clean file.

Qin Zhan's thoughts, however, drifted far away.

To the mud pits of the military academy over twenty years ago.

A youth covered in injuries, yet grinning, charging time and again at an obstacle wall that instructors had deemed "impossible" to scale.

Back then, if someone had told him there was a 288-star challenge...

How would he have reacted?

Fear? Retreat?

No.

It would be excitement.

A bone-deep fanaticism, a craving to conquer everything.

“If it were me...”

Qin Zhan said these words almost subconsciously.

His voice was very soft, so soft it was nearly drowned out by the hum of the equipment in the training room.

“I would definitely want to try.”

Zhong Huai's pacing came to a sudden halt.

He stopped and looked at his captain with an expression as if he were seeing a prehistoric creature.

“Come on, Boss,” Zhong Huai couldn't help but complain. “If everyone in the world were like you, what would happen? Everyone would be a combat maniac.”

He walked over to Qin Zhan's side in a few steps, swiping the virtual screen to pull up Lin Yu's thin file again.

“Look at this kid. Is he anything like you?”

Zhong Huai's finger poked at the screen, his tone carrying a hint of inexplicable envy.

“Middle-class parents, solid family background. He got lucky and was paid hush money by the Four Major Pharmaceutical Companies, even landing a position as a research institute director for free.”

“He’s a legitimate little boss now, worth at least a few million! He’s set for life, and the only thing he’s missing is a university degree to decorate his resume!”

Zhong Huai grew more animated as he spoke, as if he had already seen through Lin Yu's "essence."

“What is he taking the College Entrance Examination for? For the fame! For the credentials!”

“Let's just go through the motions, find a place for him to show off a bit. As long as his skills are decent and he's not some uncoordinated waste, we'll give him a passing grade.”

“A little boss who hasn't even graduated yet, passing the College Entrance Examination and smoothly getting into university—what a perfect script! It'll be enough to make him happy!”

Zhong Huai spread his hands with an expression that said, "I'm doing this all for his own good."

“Why do we have to make things difficult for him? Why force him to bang his head against 288-stars? If something goes wrong, it won't be good for anyone.”

The training room fell silent once more.

Qin Zhan listened to Zhong Huai's worldly yet incredibly realistic analysis and remained silent for a long time.

Yeah.

Zhong Huai was right.

For a Young Man who had already achieved financial freedom, the most rational and safest choice was to go through the motions, get the degree, and then go back to enjoy his life.

Challenging limits? That was for lunatics like them.

Qin Zhan let out a long sigh.

In that breath, there was relief, but also a trace of unspeakable disappointment.

“Perhaps.”

He spoke slowly.

“It's just that, for the whole Blue Star, it's always a good thing to have more truly strong individuals.”

After saying that, he stopped dwelling on it.

Qin Zhan turned back to face Zhong Huai, the steady aura belonging to the Fangs' captain returning to him.

“Since you have so many ideas...”

“You will be fully responsible for this assessment.”

Zhong Huai was taken aback, then a bright smile broke out on his face.

“Yes, sir!”

He snapped to attention, his voice loud and clear.

“Boss, just you wait and see!”

Zhong Huai thumped his chest, taking full charge. The previous embarrassment and social death had long been cast to the back of his mind.

“He's just a little boss who hasn't even left school. I guarantee I'll have everything arranged perfectly for him!”

Seeing Zhong Huai's high spirits, Qin Zhan also felt much more relaxed.

He walked forward silently, raised his hand, and gave Zhong Huai's stiff shoulder a firm pat.

“You've worked hard these past two days.”

Qin Zhan's movements were stiff, and his words were halting.

He really wasn't good at comforting people.

“When your brain works too fast, it's easy to get tired sometimes.”

“The original business trip to the Abyss Domain—don't go.”

He paused and added a sentence.

“Get some good rest.”

Zhong Huai's head snapped up, and he was completely stunned, as if poked by a high-voltage cattle prod.

What?

Rest?

To actually hear the word "rest" from the mouth of Qin Zhan, an iron man who wished he could split a day into forty-eight hours?

What kind of horror movie of the year was this?

He was stunned for a full three seconds, using his brain—which was comparable to a supercomputer—to repeatedly confirm he hadn't misheard.

Then, an uncontrollable surge of wild joy, like a volcanic eruption, gushed from the bottom of his heart.

“Holy crap!”

Zhong Huai couldn't hold it back and blurted out a curse.

Immediately after, he burst into loud laughter, doubling over and leaning against the nearby equipment to keep from collapsing. Tears were almost coming out.

“Hahaha! Brother Zhan! You're my real brother! I didn't hear wrong, did I? You're letting me rest? Getting the word 'rest' out of your mouth is harder than letting me dismantle a Star Destroyer with my bare hands!”

In this laughter, there was surprise, relief, and more than anything, the feeling of having survived a disaster.

The atmosphere, which had been so awkward he could have dug out a three-bedroom apartment with his toes and wished for death on the spot, was finally completely dispelled by this burst of unbridled laughter.

Qin Zhan looked at him, his face still expressionless, but his tense jawline seemed to soften slightly.

It was good to let this kid relax a bit.

A string pulled tight for too long will eventually snap.