The next morning, after receiving a call from Xiaoyu, Chen Mo got up and made his way to campus. Today was the donation ceremony—and his first time giving a speech on stage.
When he arrived at Binhai University, Xiaoyu, Li Lingfeng, Li Ruoxi, and several school leaders, including Principal Qiu, were already waiting near the gate. As soon as Chen Mo's car pulled up, the group moved to greet him.
"Chen Mo, I have to apologize in advance," said Principal Qiu with a sheepish smile. "Because so many students want to hear your speech, we had to move the ceremony to the outdoor square. The auditorium couldn't fit everyone. I didn't want to disturb you late last night, so I didn't call."
"That's it?" Chen Mo laughed lightly. "No problem. A stage is a stage—indoors or out."
Xiaoyu stepped closer, a clipboard in hand. "Let me walk you through today's schedule."
Soon, the group made their way toward the university square.
As they approached, a noticeable stir swept through the crowd of students already seated in the open area. Heads turned. Then came an eruption of applause.
Camera flashes began to go off. Reporters, already waiting in position, turned their lenses toward Chen Mo.
The Marching Ant Company had become a legend in the domestic tech industry. Its president, Zhao Min, was a frequent public face and something of a media darling. But the chairman—the mind behind the company—had never appeared publicly.
Until yesterday.
After the forum posts and student leaks from Binhai University, reporters from across the country rushed to the coastal city overnight, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious young entrepreneur.
Looking out at the square filled with thousands of students, Chen Mo finally understood why the venue had been changed. The auditorium never stood a chance. It looked like half the entire school had shown up.
Unbeknownst to him, the university had declared a half-day break to allow students to attend the event.
As he took his seat, the applause slowly died down. Chen Mo, though composed, couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious. All the lenses were trained on him.
The ceremony began, and Principal Qiu Guofeng stepped up to the microphone.
Wearing his usual suit and signature gold-rimmed glasses, Qiu Guofeng looked energized and relaxed.
"I know what you're all thinking—you didn't come here today to see an old guy like me," he joked.
A burst of laughter echoed from the students, followed by loud applause. Principal Qiu's humor wasn't new—most students remembered him cracking similar jokes during orientation.
"But I still have to say a few words," he continued with a grin. "Just a few—though it might feel like more."
Another round of laughter followed.
"When you started school, I told you something during the opening ceremony: 'Today, you are proud of Binhai University. Tomorrow, Binhai University will be proud of you.'
"Why do I say it every year? Because I'm a bit lazy. The speech barely changes."
More laughter. Then he continued, his voice steady and sincere.
"Today, Binhai University is proud—proud of one student in particular: Chen Mo, your senior. I hope that one day, each of you will also chase your dreams, contribute to society, and make your alma mater proud. Don't be like an ostrich, hiding in the sand to avoid challenges.
"Maybe one day, one of you will be the next Chen Mo, standing here and giving back. And even if you don't become the next him, strive to be someone useful to the world.
"I also heard that the shorter a speech is, the louder the applause."
He stepped back, and the crowd responded with enthusiastic cheers and clapping. For once, a speech didn't drag on like molasses—and the students were grateful.
Once the applause settled, Principal Qiu nodded toward Chen Mo.
"Now, we begin the donation ceremony. Let's invite our esteemed alumnus, Chen Mo, to the stage."
Every camera in the square turned to focus on him. Every pair of student eyes followed.
The reporters knew: this young man was the core of today's story.
Within a single year, the Marching Ant Company had shaken up the tech industry. A newcomer sailing into a sea of entrenched giants—and not just surviving, but thriving.
Chen Mo wasn't just the founder—he was the helmsman steering the ship.
Qiu Guofeng continued, his voice filled with pride.
"Chen Mo has generously donated 20 million yuan to Binhai University. This donation will be used to improve learning conditions and infrastructure for our students. Additionally, the Marching Ant Company has established the 'Ant Scholarship,' which will support students with outstanding academic performance and financial need.
"Let us offer our warmest applause and deepest gratitude to Chen Mo and the Marching Ant Company."
The crowd erupted.
In the front row, Li Ruoxi leaned toward Xiaoyu and whispered with a teasing smile, "Feeling proud yet? Your man's killing it out there."
"Stop it," Xiaoyu muttered, cheeks pink as she nudged her friend away. Still, her eyes remained fixed on Chen Mo—soft, proud, full of warmth.
"I can tell by your eyes you're smitten," Li Ruoxi grinned again. "Should I say you're lucky—or is he the lucky one?"
"I'm the lucky one," Xiaoyu replied quietly.
"You're damn right," said another voice—Li Ruojun. "Just look at the way those girls are staring at him. You better lock him down."
"Now's not the time," Xiaoyu protested with a helpless smile.
On stage, the applause only grew louder. Chen Mo's classmates and college peers clapped the hardest—some had even begun shouting playfully.
"Senior Chen is so handsome!"
"Senior, I love you!"
The cheers kept coming, causing Chen Mo to break into a sheepish smile. He could only laugh at the wave of attention.
Finally, he walked up and handed the oversized donation check to Principal Qiu. Cameras flashed like lightning. Reporters snapped shot after shot of the ceremonial handoff.
After the handover, Principal Qiu stepped up once more.
"Next, we'll hear from our alumnus Chen Mo, who will share a few words of encouragement with all of you. Let's give him a warm welcome."
As the applause resumed, Principal Qiu stepped aside and gestured toward the podium.
Chen Mo drew a deep breath.
He hadn't prepared a speech—everything had escalated too quickly. Yesterday, he didn't expect this level of fanfare. Now, he had no choice but to wing it.
Still, as he stepped onto the podium, the noise faded. Thousands of students looked up at him, eyes filled with curiosity, admiration, and expectation.
His voice, steady but honest, broke the silence—
(To be continued...)