Mildred scanned the musical instruments in the classroom—a grand piano, violin, cello, guitar, trumpet, clarinet… and a few she had never seen before.

"Feel free to pick one, Ms. Ginger."

The male professor, with a refined and gentle appearance, pushed up his glasses. To him, this was the easiest test possible.

Any student admitted to Riverdale University had learned multiple instruments, and this section was only about measuring their skill level.

Mildred answered truthfully, "I don't know any instruments."

"What?"

She repeated, "I can't read sheet music or play any musical instruments."

The other two professors silently marked an X next to the music section.

The forum was filled with mocking remarks.

"Is she kidding? Not even one instrument? It's literally the easiest category! Playing music is equivalent to breathing here!"

"Please—she grew up in the slum. She probably has n

"Shit. Does she have photographic memory or what?"

"She memorized all the numbers with just a glance? That's real talent right there!"

"No way. They probably let her see the questions in advance and cheated."

Panic flashed across Tamara's eyes as she witnessed Mildred's unexpected talent. She stood by the window, exchanging a subtle look with the male professor.

The male professor cleared his throat and said, "Ms. Ginger, to ensure fairness and impartiality, I will now read out a random sequence of numbers. Please repeat them back."

"Sure."

He crossed his arms, leaned against the chair, and began blurting out whatever number came to his mind. "Two, five, eight, five, nine, three, seven, four, nine, two, seven, five, zero…"

When he finished, he realized he could barely remember what he had just said. "Can you repeat that?"

Mildred repeated the sequence of numbers without a miss.



The next day, Julian sent Mildred to the main gates of Riverdale University.

"Don't be nervous, Mildred. Just take a deep breath and answer whatever the examiner asks. If you're unsure, just leave it blank. Whatever you're good at, I have the money to pave the way for you."

She looked at the overflowing affection in her father's eyes and sighed again. "Dad…"

Hearing that word struck a chord deep within him. "I'm here, I'm here…"

Mildred helplessly patted Julian's arm. "Dad, you should be more mindful of your health. Go for frequent body checkups, especially for your heart and brain vascular health."

He watched as she descended from the car, tears brimming in his eyes. "My precious daughter. After all the years you went missing, you still know how to be concerned about me.

"Quick—book a health checkup appointment for me. I don't want my Mildred to worry about me."

As soon as Mildred entered the campus, Tamara appeared behind her. "You're such a sweet talker, Milldred. You were hostile toward me and our brothers because you knew better than to covet Dad's favor, right?

"I really have to commend you for your ability to move Dad to tears with ease. It's truly impressive."

Mildred smiled. "Did you finally realize how useless you are? It sure took you long enough."

"Hey…" Tamara spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't forget I was the one who brought Mr. Quirke to Kieran. He's treating Kieran at this very moment! I don't think I'm as useless as you think.

"Besides, you should be scared for your test today. Those results are what'll determine how much you're worth to the family."

Mildred shot her a look. "Are you trying to have swollen cheeks again?"

Frightened, Tamara quickly covered her face and zipped her lips. Mildred's lips curled into a faint curve. "No? Then shut your shrieking mouth. It hurts my ears."

They walked in silence all the way to the classroom. When they arrived at the door, Mildred saw that a small crowd had already gathered in the hallway.

"So, that's the long-lost Ginger heiress? Honestly, her vibe doesn't even come close to the campus belle's!"

"What if she has hidden potential? It's too early to judge her. Besides, she has a board-member-daddy backing her."

"So what? An aptitude test is the fairest of all. If she doesn't bring anything to the table, she'll just be wasting space after enrollment!"

"I mean, what kind of skills can a girl from the slum have? Is she gonna impress us with penny-pinching skills or some trash-to-treasure magic? Too bad our school doesn't exactly specialize in training bottom-feeders."

The reason these students were so haughty was simple: Riverdale University wasn't an average private school. It was a prestigious institution founded decades ago by several of the oldest and wealthiest families in the city.

Most students were born into privilege, groomed from a young age with elite artistic training or tutelage under world-renowned mentors.

For them, university wasn't just about academics; it was about building connections and preparing to inherit family legacies.

A small handful had earned their place through sheer academic excellence, their talents too exceptional to ignore.

But coming from ordinary backgrounds, they rarely mingled with the aristocratic crowd. They stuck to their own, keeping a respectful distance, and in doing so, avoided most of the drama.

"Take it easy, Mildred. The test covers over a dozen categories. As long as you show exceptional talent in any one of them, the examiner will let you choose a corresponding major, and you'll be admitted without issue."

Tamara wore a sweet and harmless look in front of everyone.

After the last party fiasco, Pearl squeezed in and linked arms with Tamara. "That's right. We all passed at least three or five tests, while Tamara passed six! She chose the art programme because she loves painting.

"It's literally so easy to just pass at least one. Don't tell me you can't do that. You know, you should've flattered Arthur more if you knew you had to study. Marrying him is so much easier than enrolling here!

"Oh, wait—I just remembered he'd rather die than marry you."

Laughter bubbled up around them. Everyone at the banquet knew how Arthur had publicly refused to marry Mildred because of his recovered health.

Before Mildred could respond, a familiar female voice cut through the crowd. "Is dodging school by chasing marriage really something to brag about? If it's so great, why aren't you married yet, Pearl?"

The crowd dispersed, allowing Zoey to come through.

Pearl's expression was grim. "I forgot—your brother actually intended on marrying this slum stray. You Sheppards really have a strange taste in people!"

Zoey stepped in front of Mildred, calm and confident. "Dorian's taste is way beyond what ordinary people like you can comprehend. And I'm sure Mildred will ace the aptitude tests—doesn't matter if it's one or ten categories!"

Mildred choked on her saliva. She hadn't even seen the tests yet and had no confidence, so where did Zoey's boldness come from?

A wave of jealousy rose inside Tamara as she watched Zoey defend Mildred so fiercely. Was Dorian really into Mildred? What was it about her?

Pearl guffawed sarcastically. "Sure—ten categories, is it? How about a bet, Zoey?"

She taunted, "If Mildred fails to pass in at least ten categories, you'll have to run ten laps around the track while blasting through a megaphone that 'Zoey has terrible taste.' Deal?"

Zoey planted her hands on her hips. "And if Mildred succeeds, you're going to do the same by saying 'Mildred and Zoey are the best.' How about that?"

Pearl held out a hand. "High five, and it's a promise. Backing out means you're a loser!"

Mildred quickly reached to grab Zoey's hand, but the latter had already slapped palms with Pearl.

Oh, well…

Zoey looked back, her face more miserable than if she were about to cry. "It's fine. Worst case, I'll just run ten laps. Just do your best in there!"

Mildred was speechless. Soon, a few professors arrived. "Why's everyone gathered here? Make way, please… Come on in, Ms. Ginger."

Mildred was about to head into the classroom when Zoey held her back, her expression full of sorrow. "I'm really fine, Mildred. Just do your very, very best, okay?"

Zoey might as well have said, "You must pass all ten tests or I'll die," out loud. Mildred shook her head helplessly, as this was something she couldn't guarantee.

She followed the examiners inside, unaware that the last male professor exchanged a knowing glance with Tamara.

Once seated, the classroom cameras silently switched on. At the same time, the live stream of "The Ginger Heiress' Aptitude Test" began on the campus forum.

"Oh my gosh. I didn't know we'd get such a juicy broadcast today!"

"I heard Zoey made a bet with Pearl that Mildred would pass all ten tests. Place your bets, everyone!"

"That's never going to happen. The one who holds the highest record is Kieran, who passed a total of nine tests. He's the GOAT."

"I bet a pack of chips that Mildred will fail the first round. She'll soon be stuck in some useless literature major like me, just coasting through school."

Everyone started placing bets. The elites were generous—Pearl had already wagered over two million, while Zoey's side had a measly two thousand, all from her alternate account.

Then, the system alert popped up. "Alumnus Arthur Luzon bets two million that Mildred Ginger will pass."

Another system alert rang. "Alumnus Dorian Sheppard bets three million that Mildred Ginger will pass."

Zoey covered her face. This wasn't about who threw the most money. With such high stakes, wouldn't that only make Pearl even prouder when she won?

Meanwhile, in the classroom, Mildred had no idea she was already carrying bets totaling five million and two thousand. She was focused, listening carefully to the examiner's question.

"So, you want me to pick any instrument and play the sheet music on this page?"

Mildred scanned the musical instruments in the classroom—a grand piano, violin, cello, guitar, trumpet, clarinet… and a few she had never seen before.

"Feel free to pick one, Ms. Ginger."

The male professor, with a refined and gentle appearance, pushed up his glasses. To him, this was the easiest test possible.

Any student admitted to Riverdale University had learned multiple instruments, and this section was only about measuring their skill level.

Mildred answered truthfully, "I don't know any instruments."

"What?"

She repeated, "I can't read sheet music or play any musical instruments."

The other two professors silently marked an X next to the music section.

The forum was filled with mocking remarks.

"Is she kidding? Not even one instrument? It's literally the easiest category! Playing music is equivalent to breathing here!"

"Please—she grew up in the slum. She probably has never touched an instrument before."

"By the way, is the bet even valid still? It's clear Pearl's go

Chapter 20