The only hint was the task icon—a crystal-clear box with a heart-shaped pattern painted on it, resembling the wish Boxes sold in gift shops. It seemed useless except for its aesthetic appeal.

Mo Qi had sold similar trinkets before. He had purchased them in bulk for a small sum and then sold them to male students in the dormitories at prices lower than those in gift shops, specifically targeting those with girlfriends.

Later, more people followed his lead, and once the market became saturated, it stopped being profitable. Mo Qi took the opportunity to pack up the remaining goods and sell them to his competitors for a profit before making his exit.

Regarding these wish boxes or heart wish boxes, supposedly, you fold a paper crane, a wishing star, or a heart-shaped paper each day and place it inside the box. It’s said that when the box is full, your wish will come true. Of course, both buyers and sellers know this is just a gimmick. People who engage with these items simply enjoy origami and like pretty boxes.

“People’s hearts are unpredictable, and this heart wish box—these seem to be the only clues so far. It looks like it’s related to wishes,” Mo Qi pondered aloud to his phone.

He felt a bit ridiculous, realizing he was starting to believe he had stumbled upon some mysterious event and was now talking to his phone.

Who knew the app responded with: [Upon completion of the task, basic skills will be unlocked, personal attribute cards upgraded, reward item cards granted, and there’s a chance to obtain scene cards. Failure or exceeding the deadline will result in account termination.]

“Winning won’t get me a scholarship or good grades, and I’ll have to keep playing this game. Losing, on the other hand, means account termination, getting rid of this virus-like app. Why should I even bother completing the task?” Mo Qi wondered aloud.

The app remained unresponsive, seemingly indifferent to whether he actively completed the task or not.

With only an hour left before class, Mo Qi studied his phone a bit longer but found no further clues within the app.

He understood playing the game and completing tasks meant interacting on his phone. But recalling his inexplicable charm that seemed to attract others, Mo Qi began to have uneasy thoughts.

“Maybe the clues are supposed to be found in real life?” Mo Qi muttered to himself.

Then he thought he must be losing his mind. How could he really be encountering such a mysterious event? Perhaps everything was just a coincidence. Maybe the painting was just a lenticular image, and maybe the app could collect his voice data to trigger automatic responses.

“I should find a phone repair shop and figure out how to uninstall this software,” Mo Qi decided.

He got up, preparing to return to his dormitory to fetch his books and head to class.

A couple walked past Mo Qi, and the girl glanced at him inadvertently, prompting them to halt.

“Why aren’t we moving?” The boyfriend tugged at his girlfriend.

She remained unmoved, her gaze seemingly stuck on Mo Qi.

“What’s going on? You’re checking out another guy right in front of me?” The boyfriend also looked at Mo Qi, his words trailing off.

More proactive than his girlfriend, the boyfriend let go of her and approached Mo Qi directly. “What’s your name? Which college and major are you in? What year? Can I have your phone number? Want to add WeChat?”

The girl wasn’t to be outdone. She pushed her boyfriend away and leaned in close to Mo Qi.

“I’m Ke Xiaoxi, from the School of Literature, majoring in Chinese Language and Literature. I’m a sophomore. Here’s my phone number: 15XXXXXXXXX. And this is my WeChat QR code. Can you add me as a friend?”

“No!” Mo Qi replied firmly.

With that, he quickened his pace, moving away from the couple and from this increasingly bizarre world.

Ke Xiaoxi hurried after him. “Hey, wait for me! Let’s be friends.”

The boyfriend, now somewhat more sober, grabbed the girl and said angrily, “Ke Xiaoxi, I’m right here and you’re chasing after someone else. Are you trying to break up with me?”

“Break up if you want, I’ve tolerated you for so long. Have you ever looked at your own flaws? You forgot my birthday…” The argument behind him escalated. Mo Qi went from walking to running, silently hoping the couple would reconcile once he was out of sight.

After a few steps, their argument turned into shouting, then into harsh words. Ke Xiaoxi’s piercing voice cut through the air.

“Splash!” A splash came from the lake. Mo Qi stopped and turned back to see only the boyfriend by the lakeside; Ke Xiaoxi had vanished.

“No way…” Mo Qi hurried back to the boyfriend. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“I didn’t push her!” The boyfriend stared blankly at his hands. “We were arguing, yes, but look, we were four or five meters away from the lake. How did she fall in?”

“What are you waiting for? Help her!” Mo Qi, who knew how to swim, quickly took off his jacket and jumped into the water. Before he could submerge himself, Ke Xiaoxi’s body floated to the surface.

She was covered in water plants, her face swollen. It didn’t look like she had just fallen in; it seemed more like she had been in the water for four or five days.

Mo Qi didn’t dare touch the body. Instead, the boyfriend jumped into the water and pulled Ke Xiaoxi out, holding her lifeless body and crying bitterly.

Mo Qi climbed back onto the shore, feeling chilled to the bone. He picked up his jacket, and his phone slipped out of the pocket, the screen unlocked to reveal the game interface.

On the screen, the beautiful crystal box was open, and a red heart-shaped origami folded from the top to the bottom of the box, as if an invisible hand had dropped the paper inside.

The transparent heart-shaped pattern on the box, previously clear, now had its edges outlined in blood-red, pulsating gently as if echoing a heartbeat.