Chapter One: Is the Graduation Project Building a Desolate Planet?

"Huayun, what's your graduation project? Mine is plant purification." A girl affectionately linked arms with Huayun. "It’s a bit difficult, but with some effort, it’s still manageable, and there’s plenty of time—two years."

Plant purification was an intermediate skill for Alliance cultivators—not easy, but the graduation project requirements for this skill wouldn’t be insurmountable, though certainly demanding.

"I haven’t checked yet," Huayun replied. She had only recently arrived in this world, and if Chen Jiao-jiao hadn’t mentioned it, she wouldn’t even have known such a thing existed.

Chen Jiao-jiao had been the original Huayun's closest friend during university; they were inseparable most of the time.

"Then hurry up and take a look! This decides whether we can graduate and land a good job," Chen Jiao-jiao urged.

Their graduation projects were generally long-term assignments.

The First University of the Alliance did not have a fixed academic system. Students in the College of Botany spent the first three years studying compulsory knowledge and skills. Afterward, graduation projects began, assigned randomly, with no time limits. During this phase, students could choose elective courses to their liking.

The difference was, during the compulsory phase, students received various privileges—scholarships, credits, and so on. But once they entered the graduation project stage, they were treated as before for the first two years; after that, they had to earn credits on their own unless they made major contributions or breakthroughs. The university would no longer grant policy-based scholarships or rewards.

Each student had three opportunities to submit their graduation project, with their highest score taken as the final result. Rewards varied according to their grades, marking the last bonus they would receive as students.

The interstellar society cared deeply for its students. During the compulsory phase, students’ expenses were almost entirely covered, and they even received star credits in their accounts. As a result, most students chose to stay for the full five years.

"Now that’s something I don’t believe! I remember someone said she’d relax and enjoy herself after graduation!" Huayun laughed.

Chen Jiao-jiao’s family didn’t depend on her income. The original Huayun vaguely knew her family had certain influence, but she’d never looked into it. Friendship during school was simple, and the original Huayun had no intention to curry favor.

"Hehe~" Chen Jiao-jiao scratched her head and giggled. She really didn’t want to work for someone else and suffer indignities. Wouldn’t it be better to just work within her family's domain? She had no desire to endure hardship.

Despite this, Huayun opened her email. The original Huayun was an orphan—her journey had been harder than most.

-- Dear Huayun of the College of Botany, 389th class, First University of the Alliance, the college formally notifies you that your randomly assigned graduation project is the development of a barren star...

--

There followed a series of details: the college would allocate a small barren planet, and under the guidance of a mentor, the student would carry out development according to her own ideas.

As for assessment, it combined public opinion with mentor grading. The email had a detailed scoring rubric attached.

The final grade would depend on scores and the number of people who scored.

"What? Development of a barren star? How is that possible?" Such a topic shouldn’t even appear in undergraduate graduation projects; even graduate students would only tackle this as a team. Chen Jiao-jiao couldn’t help but cry out, "The college must be out of its mind!"

"Come on, let’s go to the college! How can they ask us to develop a barren star?" Chen Jiao-jiao gritted her teeth. If they could develop a barren planet, would they still be students? They’d be the dean of the College of Botany by now!

Huayun was equally bewildered—development of a barren star? Was interstellar society really playing at such a scale?