Chapter 519

Following Lin Mo’s line of sight, one could see the woman at the piano explaining patiently to a group of students. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with a bloated figure, small eyes squeezed into slits, a face as wide as a pancake, and skin in such poor condition it almost looked patchy. Every part of her appearance matched the next—unremarkable, if not outright unpleasant.

But the one thing that didn’t fit the rest… was her voice.

That voice, clear and gentle as flowing water, belonged in a world far removed from the woman’s outer shell. It was a heavenly sound trapped in a less-than-desirable body—a complete waste, truly. A classic case of the “voice doesn’t match the face” trope, taken to the extreme.

Lin Mo sighed inwardly, disappointment settling like dust in his chest. He had imagined—hoped, really—that this piano room belonged to the famed goddess of the music department, Qiu Qianwei.

Instead, he found himself staring at someone who looked like a walking contradiction.

Perhaps sensing his gaze, the woman paused in her explanation and looked straight at him.

“Who are you?” she asked with a look of mild curiosity. His appearance didn’t match that of a student—too composed, too neatly dressed.

“I’m a teacher from another department,” Lin Mo replied smoothly, burying his distaste beneath a polished smile. “I happened to hear the piano from the hall and couldn’t help but be drawn in. The playing was just too beautiful.”

He hadn’t come here to make enemies—this was a stage, not a battlefield. Even if the woman didn’t meet his aesthetic standards, her skill demanded at least surface-level respect.

“Ah, I see. Hello there,” the woman smiled, her voice still gentle. “Which department are you from?”

“Finance,” Lin Mo returned a polite smile, then glanced around as if reminded of something. “To be honest, I originally wanted to join the music department. But somehow, I ended up in finance instead.”

Qingling University was massive, and while Lin Mo had become something of a joke in the finance faculty after the basketball incident, the wider campus had no idea who he was. Many departments still knew nothing of his name or face.

“You can play piano?” she asked, a hint of genuine surprise in her voice.

“A little,” he said modestly, his smile hinting at deeper confidence.

“Why not play something for us?” she invited warmly, clearly sensing a kindred spirit and eager to hear his style.

Lin Mo feigned reluctance, shaking his head slightly. “My skill is quite average,” he said, then shifted tone. “But it’s been a while since I played… my fingers are itching. Forgive the indulgence.”

The woman grinned and promptly stood up, stepping aside to offer him the seat.

As Lin Mo sat down, he immediately felt a residual warmth on the cushioned bench, and a pang of discomfort crawled over him. If this had been left behind by a beautiful woman, he might’ve enjoyed it—but now? He couldn’t help but wonder if the seat carried something contagious.

He resisted the urge to jump up and instead forced himself to remain still.

He flipped through the sheet music on the piano stand and landed on one of the most famously difficult pieces: Flight of the Bumblebee.

His fingers hovered over the keys as murmurs rippled through the room. These students weren’t amateurs—they knew exactly how hard this piece was. One look at their skeptical faces told Lin Mo everything he needed to know.

Perfect.

That was exactly the expression he wanted to see.

His fingers struck the keys.

Music exploded through the room—fast, precise, alive. Every note danced in the air like lightning, sharp and flawless. The doubts on the students’ faces melted into astonishment, then admiration, and finally open-mouthed awe.

Meanwhile, in the background, Lin Mo’s system buzzed to life. His points surged upward in real time.

By the time the piece ended, he gained not only a storm of applause but also the unmistakably smitten gaze of the narrow-eyed woman who had ceded him the bench.

Their eyes met briefly.

Lin Mo shivered. Her look sent a chill down his spine, and he immediately broke eye contact.

Wasting no time, he connected with the system.

He poured every last Recognition Point into a single attribute—【Manhood Ability】.

The value climbed. From negative to zero. Then, into the positives.

【Ding! Lin Mo’s Manhood Ability Restored. Villain Points -2000. Lin Mo’s Protagonist Halo +100. Host’s Villain Halo -100.】

The system prompt hit Wang Haoran like a slap to the face just as he raised his glass. The smug satisfaction drained from his expression, and in a knee-jerk reaction, he pushed Zuoqiu Chenyu away from his lap.

She stumbled back, coughing violently as the wine she’d been sipping went down the wrong pipe.

“Can’t you be a little more patient with a rookie?” she snapped, clearly upset. “That was my first try—you didn’t have to shove me like that.”

A few minutes ago, she was nervously trying to fulfill a bet she’d lost months prior. But lacking any experience, she fumbled the execution—so much so that she accidentally drank most of the wine herself.

Finally making progress, she never expected to be pushed away so rudely.

Wang Haoran, however, wasn’t even listening. His eyes were still locked on the system prompt burned into his brain.

Lin Mo’s ability had recovered.

And worse, he had lost everything he previously gained by crippling that ability.

This was the first time one of his “disable the protagonist” strategies had failed.

Lin Mo’s system was turning out to be more dangerous than expected.

Apparently, even poison wasn’t foolproof. If he wanted results, he’d have to resort to physical means—like the time he permanently resolved the Lu Chen problem by cutting things off and feeding them to a dog.

Zuoqiu Chenyu waved a hand in front of his face, frowning. “Hello? Am I invisible now?”

“Huh? What’d you say?” he blinked, snapping out of his daze.

“Still want another drink?” she asked, batting her lashes, hopeful.

Wang Haoran was in the mood earlier, but now his interest faded fast. They’d been messing around for ages, and he hadn’t even touched his food.

No. Time to focus.

“The dishes are getting cold. Let’s eat first,” he said.

Zuoqiu Chenyu muttered an “oh” and began eating in silence, head down, looking slightly dejected.

She didn’t know what had changed. She assumed she’d done something wrong again. The man’s coldness could only mean she wasn’t up to his standards.

Her heart twisted a little in frustration.

She wasn’t good at this sort of thing—being a woman, that is. Her life had always revolved around violence, fighting, and training. She was all brawn, no charm.

No wonder she kept falling short.

She needed to learn. At the very least, she had to reach the baseline. Otherwise, how could she compete with the foxes always fluttering around his side?

While she quietly brooded, Wang Haoran shoveled food into his mouth, his mind spinning with urgency.

He needed to get back to Qingling University.

Whatever was happening between him and Zuoqiu Chenyu can wait. Lin Mo’s recovery of his ability was a real problem, especially with so many female leads on campus.

Even though Lin Mo didn’t seem capable of capturing any of them yet,

Wang Haoran had seen firsthand what a 【Protagonist Fortuitous Encounter Experience Card】 could do.

Plot armor doesn’t follow logic.

Now that Lin Mo was whole again, the chances of some ridiculous romantic encounter skyrocketing out of nowhere had gone up dramatically.

This had to be dealt with—fast.