“You…”

Luo Yu stared in shock, glancing over at the door behind this person.

The lock on the door wasn’t tampered with. Did he walk through the walls? Or climb through the window?

None of that matters. What matters is… did he notice that I was… sleeping here against the rules?

In the dim light of the lounge, the man with black-framed glasses followed Luo Yu’s gaze back toward the door, his hoodie shifting with his movement. Soon he turned back to Luo Yu with a casual smile:

‘’I’m Wen Li, a Ph.D. student in the History Department and the administrator of this lounge.’’

He casually dangled a set of keys in his hand, the metal clinking softly.

‘’Administrator…’’ Luo Yu took a deep breath, deciding to go on the offensive. ‘‘So, as the administrator, does that mean you can just barge into a locked room whenever you want? Is this your style of management? Who would even dare come here if you’re like this?’’

‘’Apologies.’’

Wen Li listened to his rebuke but remained calm, slowly raising both hands in a surrender gesture.

‘’But I didn’t just barge in. I specifically came here to find you.’’

To find him?

Luo Yu’s fingers dug into the couch cushion, turning white with tension.

‘’If you’re looking for me, you could have waited for me to leave. Locking the door means I’m busy, understand?’’

Wen Li chuckled slightly, dropped the argument, and abruptly changed the subject.

‘‘You were sleeping just now, weren’t you?’’

He saw it.

This is bad.

Luo Yu’s eyes stung, and his gaze, fierce just moments ago, suddenly softened and lowered.

‘‘I’m sorry.’’

‘‘Please don’t report me…’’

Wen Li looked at him calmly, then pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket and gently wiped the tears from Luo Yu’s eyes.

‘’Why would I report you?’’

‘‘You’re so adorable; how could I turn you over to the Council for discipline?’’

Luo Yu froze, staring at Wen Li’s gentle, spring-like gaze from behind his glasses.

His was a face people couldn’t help but trust.

‘‘I came here to help you.’’

Help him?

Luo Yu stayed silent, watching as Wen Li put the used tissue on the small table, then sat down beside him on the couch.

‘‘I was also at the streamer auditions earlier and heard you talking about sleeping… So, what, are you interested in it?’’

Luo Yu shifted to face Wen Li, his legs pulled up with bare feet resting on the couch cushion as he replied, ‘’Just curious.’’

Wen Li nodded understandingly.

‘’Sleep is an essential part of our ancestors’ lives, after all. It’s perfectly normal for anyone to be curious about it. Once in a while, choosing to skip meds and experience sleep—perfectly normal.’’

Luo Yu’s back slowly relaxed.

Seems like he won’t be sent to the hospital… or reported.

‘’You mentioned helping me?’’ He looked up cautiously.

Wen Li nodded, still smiling gently.

‘’I’m currently assisting Professor Tao Mian from the History Department on a historical study of “sleep” culture. The project group still needs an undergrad for organizing materials. Since you’re interested, would you like to join?’’

He added meaningfully, ‘‘You might even have legitimate opportunities to experience sleep.’’

Luo Yu slumped.

It sounded appealing to others, but what he needed was a reliable way to sleep regularly. The occasional chance wouldn’t help much.

‘’Does it pay?’’ he asked quietly.

Wen Li paused, seemingly surprised, then finally said, ‘‘You’ll receive a weekly meal stipend of one hundred.’’

…That’s it? College students sure sell cheap.

Luo Yu bit his lip in hesitation, trying to decline politely. ‘‘I’d really like to join, but if I have to stream soon, I may not have time for the project.’’

Wen Li looked at him, visibly surprised.

‘‘You don’t actually believe you’ll make it through the streamer selection, do you?’’

‘’Why not?’’

His performance was clearly better than the other applicants!

Wen Li chuckled, leaning forward slightly, studying Luo Yu as if he were a little fool.

‘‘Are you really that naïve, or are you just pretending?’’

‘’Sleep has become a global taboo, a subject no one dares touch. Even if you manage to sneak it in under an academic guise, the Council could still crack down. They’re already tolerating you more than enough by letting you discuss it at the audition. There’s no way they’d let you actually become a streamer.’’

Luo Yu bit his lip, looking down. His phone suddenly buzzed.

He absentmindedly picked it up to check.

It was a rejection message from Xingyao Platform.

Luo Yu’s heart sank, and he turned off his phone, his path forward suddenly turning bleak again. Surviving in this world was so hard.

Noticing Luo Yu’s downcast expression, Wen Li’s lips curved in a faint smile as he seized the moment.

‘’But if you truly want to do it, there’s still a way.’’

Luo Yu’s gaze shot up.

‘‘All you need is someone to take responsibility for you… Haven’t you heard? Every professor has a recommendation slot.’’

Wen Li continued smoothly, ‘’If you agree to join the research team, I could persuade Professor Tao to recommend you as a contracted streamer on the platform, citing the project’s need for external outreach.’’

‘’The whole project team would back you up for your streaming.’’

‘‘And even this lounge could be yours for two hours daily to stream without any interruptions. Not even from me.’’

This lounge!

Two hours a day, just enough time for him to sleep. Once he saved up enough from streaming, he’d no longer need to worry about finding a place to rest.

“I want to join.”

Luo Yu leaned forward, supporting himself on the couch, tilting his head to look up at Wen Li with a pleading expression.

“Big brother, please let me join!”

Wen Li looked at him intently, then placed a gentle hand on his soft hair, giving it a satisfied ruffle.

“Then come with me.”

…

The History Department Research Center was located on the top floor of the teaching building, not far from the activity center.

Following Wen Li, Luo Yu met Professor Tao Mian, the history professor, for the first time.

The elderly professor wore a simple, dark green button-up shirt. His hair was streaked with gray, and he wore gold-rimmed reading glasses as he looked at Luo Yu from behind his desk. Wen Li recounted Luo Yu’s performance at the live streaming audition.

After listening, Professor Tao adjusted his glasses with a calm expression.

“Luo Yu, your generation grew up with constant messages of ‘value life, avoid sleep.’ Why are you interested in sleeping?”

Luo Yu rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, managing a shy smile. “Professor, I’ve just… always been a bit rebellious since I was young!”

Professor Tao chuckled, giving him a thoughtful look.

“Rebellion is good. In these times, being a bit rebellious is much better than just going with the flow.”

“I can let you join the project team and recommend you as a sleep streamer. But I need you to promise me one thing.”

Luo Yu obediently smiled and nodded. “What is it, Professor?”

Professor Tao spoke slowly.

“You may share our research findings on the history of sleep, showing people how our ancestors used to sleep. But—”

“Under no circumstances, in any setting, should you actually sleep.”

Luo Yu’s fingers trembled slightly as he glanced quickly at Wen Li beside him. Seeing that Wen Li had no intention of reporting him, he immediately replied:

“I understand! Don’t worry, Professor. I’d never do something that risky!”

Professor Tao nodded approvingly. “That’s good.”

Luo Yu watched as Professor Tao filled out the recommendation form and sent it to Xingyao Platform before he finally left the professor’s office with a sense of relief.

As he walked out of the teaching building, the first rays of morning light fell gently on his face.

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll be working with the project team, from 5 a.m. to 11 p.m.,” Wen Li said, turning to Luo Yu.

Luo Yu nodded. He had already looked up the information: 5 a.m. to 11 p.m. was the standard workday in this world.

From 11 p.m. to midnight, everyone took their medicine, and midnight to 5 a.m. was the designated time for rest and recreation. Of course, some exploitative factories pushed workers to work from midnight to midnight…

Wen Li played with the drawstrings on his hoodie, then added:

“The lounge will be available for your streams from midnight to 2 a.m. every day. I won’t interrupt you. For those two hours, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

Two hours — just enough for a nap!

The morning light fell into Luo Yu’s eyes like golden warmth. “Thank you for helping me, senior! See you tomorrow!”

He was about to leave but heard Wen Li speak quickly:

“Luo Yu.”

He turned back.

“Whether you’re really sleeping or pretending to sleep, no one will notice. Most people watching your stream will have never seen someone sleep, so they won’t be able to tell the difference.”

Luo Yu nearly bit his lip in surprise.

He smiled, covering his reaction. “Senior, what are you suggesting?”

Wen Li’s gaze was as gentle and calm as before. “Professor Tao is conservative; you don’t have to follow his every word. Do what you want.”

Luo Yu laughed lightly. Once Wen Li turned to leave, he finally let out a deep breath.

Why would Wen Li encourage him to actually sleep?

He couldn’t figure it out.

But whatever Wen Li said, he had no choice but to stick to his current path.

…

As soon as he returned to his dorm, Luo Yu received the recommendation code from Professor Tao and quickly logged into the “Xingyao” app to verify his status as a streamer!

The student channel’s contract terms were slightly more lenient than for other streamers.

Since this was a school collaboration, he only needed to stream for two hours daily during winter and summer breaks and two hours twice a week during the semester to receive a base pay.

Audience gifts had the same profit-sharing arrangement as other types of streams: a 50-50 split with the platform.

The only penalties were if the streamer failed to meet the required hours for seven consecutive days or violated platform guidelines, leading to a tenfold penalty of the base pay.

The list of violations mostly involved illegal or criminal behavior.

Luo Yu skimmed through the contract, filled out his information, and in the “College Major and Research Focus” field, carefully typed History – Sleep.

Under the “Student Practical Experience” section, he added his role in the Sleep History Research Project.

For “Work Content,” he wrote Promoting Classical Culture – Sleep.

He pasted the recommendation code, and as he submitted it, a celebratory effect popped up—

“Congratulations! You have successfully signed with the ‘College Student’ channel on Xingyao!”

Returning to his profile page, Luo Yu saw that his streamer nickname had automatically been set to—

“History – Sleep – Luo Yu.”

Just like the names in his class group, unchangeable and a bit too basic.

When he checked the College Student Channel, he found out that the entire channel used this format for names. It definitely had a strong “college student” vibe.

Several hours later…

Luo Yu dodged taking his medicine again, changing into a V-neck shirt as soon as he returned to the dorm.

The silver thread on the shirt’s neckline embroidered a rose, with silver tassels hanging down, gently swaying against his barely visible chest.

He styled his hair briefly, gathered his streaming props from earlier in the day, and headed to the second-floor Student Lounge for History Majors in the activity center, right on time.

Luo Yu locked the door, quickly walked over to the wooden table, moved it to face the dark blue curtains, and positioned the chair in front of them.

He set his phone on a metal stand, took a seat at the table, brushed his bangs aside, and casually unbuttoned the top button of his shirt to breathe easier.

Just as he was about to start streaming, he suddenly stood up again.

He pulled out a sheet of paper from the bookshelf, wrote “Live streaming in progress, please do not disturb,” folded it into a triangular sign, and placed it outside the lounge door.

Feeling more at ease, he returned to the table, tapped “Start Live” on his phone screen, and began streaming.