Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 75

Inside a large private booth at the bar, ten college students sat around a table.

Five men, five women—perfectly even.

But every girl’s gaze was fixed, burning with anticipation, on just four of the men. They were waiting eagerly for their introductions.

At the center sat a delicate-looking boy with light ash-brown hair.

He wore a simple white shirt, his charming smile paired with deep black eyes full of quiet warmth. His whole bearing was gentle, like a spring breeze brushing across the face—impossible not to like at first sight.

“My name’s Lu He, junior, majoring in History at T University.”

A younger girl, her cheeks pink and voice shy, asked with hope in her eyes, “Then… what type of girl does senior like?”

Lu He gave her a polite smile, though there was a trace of distance in it.

“Sorry. As a History student, I’m only interested in studying the dead. For now, I don’t have much interest in the living.”

The girl: “…” Her heart instantly shattered into pieces.

“I only agreed to this mixer because the student council president promised me that if I came once, he’d never bother me again.”

He turned, smiling with narrowed eyes, to the boy beside him—the student council president of T University.

“Right, President?”

The president wanted to dig a hole on the spot and bury himself alive.

He’d heard this mixer would be full of pretty girls. But the truth was, they were all here for T University’s three campus gods.

Unfortunately, those three just happened to all be in his student council. He had begged and coaxed endlessly to get them to come.

And now one of them had ripped his excuse wide open before they’d even warmed their seats.

Why me…

Lu He tilted his head and looked toward his other side.

“Your turn.”

The next boy was strikingly handsome, his smile bright as sunshine.

Tall, with long legs folded awkwardly beneath the table, his posture careless and unrestrained, his grin showed off a full set of gleaming white teeth. He looked like a big golden retriever overflowing with energy.

Even his hair had been dyed a vivid gold.

“I’m Qi Guang. An athlete. I like basketball and eating. The president said if I came here, there’d be good food and he’d give me tickets to the next basketball game. That’s the only reason I agreed to come.”

After saying that, he threw the president a big, cheeky grin.

“President, don’t forget your promise!”

President: Please don’t call me out, I’m already pretending to be dead.

“Alright, your turn now.”

Qi Guang tried to clap the shoulder of the boy next to him, but the other coolly avoided his touch.

This one looked like he had stepped right out of a manga—black hair, black eyes, pale skin, dressed in nothing more than a plain black T-shirt, yet still devastatingly good-looking.

“Gu Ming.”

His voice was low and beautiful, like the elegant resonance of a violin.

But his expression was pure frost, as if not a single soul in the room was worth his time.

He lowered his gaze, eyes fixed on his phone. A pale wrist peeked out from his sleeve, slender and elegant, with a red cord tied around it. Dangling from the cord was a tiny bell.

The bell’s style was old, but it had been carefully preserved, and it still rang with a crisp, clear sound.

He spoke his name and nothing else—didn’t even bother to glance at anyone.

It was precisely this arrogance that made Gu Ming the most popular of T University’s gods.

His unreachably cold aura drove countless girls into wild infatuation.

All of them wanted to see the day when he’d fall in love, when he’d drop that icy pride for the sake of a girl.

But so far, no one had ever heard of him sparing a second look for anyone.

The girls around the table gazed dreamily at the three dazzling young men, wanting to get closer, yet not daring to.

They could only pray that during the rest of the mixer, one of these campus gods would take notice of them.

“Then… next, let us girls introduce ourselves—”

Before the girl could finish, Gu Ming was already standing up, impatience clear in his movements.

The president hurriedly grabbed his arm.

“Junior, the mixer’s only just started, don’t leave—”

Gu Ming coldly shook him off.

“I only promised I’d show up. I never said I’d stay.”