Seeing those awkward questions and the QQ group exploding, Gan Lin couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement and despair.

The class teacher, Zheng Zhixiu, whose QQ status had just been "Online," now showed as grayed out in the lower tiers of the contact list—it was unclear if she had truly logged off or simply entered "invisible viewing mode."

Pestered by too many inquiries, Gan Lin finally replied to one of his closest female friends, "I really don't know..."

Unexpectedly, at that very moment, a gossipy girl happened to ping his chat window, and those five words, followed by ellipses, were accidentally sent directly to her instead of being kept private.

The result was instantaneous: within three seconds, Gan Lin's reply was pasted into the main QQ group chat, causing immediate pandemonium. So many people were posting that the screen scrolled upward furiously; what one person had just said was instantly buried by the influx from those following behind.

And then there were the boys, eager to stir the pot, who unleashed their legendary artifacts—the Screen-Swiping Golden-Hooped Rod or the Skyscraper—drawing a chorus of angry shouts.

The notification sounds for private messages rang incessantly. Gan Lin decided to re-post in the class group: "I really don't know, I haven't measured it myself."

This sent the neighboring Fatty Long into near-fall laughter. Wang Zhuo, who was meticulously washing residual lubricant off his body in the bathroom, witnessed the entire exchange via his Clairvoyance and could only offer a wry smile at Fatty Long’s masterful technique for stirring up trouble.

Young men often seek amusement in jest, and as the central figures, neither Wang Zhuo nor Gan Lin felt genuinely angry. Perhaps this was the very essence of vibrant youth.

"Pics or it didn't happen, we demand proof!" "In this icy, snowy weather, we kneel and beg for verification!" "Where is Instructor Wang? Summon Instructor Wang!" "As a 180cm guy, hearing Instructor Wang actually has 250... man, the pressure is immense." "Damn, you dare claim 180? I’ll bet you two dozen beers; the winner pays, the loser drinks." "From now on, 250 won't be an insult anymore, you guys get it." "Girls, tremble, moan, and worship the might of Instructor Wang!"

Cheng Gang, who had dared to call for the girls to moan, was immediately submerged beneath the tide of popular war. Various personal attacks rained down upon him like a flood, and titles such as "Choker-Neck Guy" and "Premature Ejaculation King" were heaped upon him by the girls without hesitation...

It was then that Gan Lin realized that after a year in university, many of the reserved little misses from high school had transformed into fiery matrons. These were topics they would never have dared to engage in before, but now they were buzzing with excitement, as if injected with adrenaline. It seemed that girls who had boyfriends and intimacy now constituted the majority.

"Say, have you decided on the stakes for the bet?" "Study Committee Member, Study Committee Member, can you leak any information? Is Wang Zhuo more likely to win, or is Jin Chengyou?" "Is Fatty Long still around? I want to ask, are you betting on the soft size or the hard size?"

This question caused a significant portion of those in front of their computers to erupt in laughter. If the soft size was 250, wouldn't the hard size be as long as an upper arm? There couldn't possibly be such a freak in all of China.

The screen filled with laughing emojis, but the girl who asked the question continued her clowning, gravely stating, "I watched a documentary where the African Elephant-Man tribe’s soft size was sixty centimeters, almost touching the ground."

It was getting more and more ridiculous. Gan Lin gave up typing altogether, sitting helplessly in front of the computer, watching them perform.

"In ancient times, the great ear thief Liu Bei's hands reached his knees; now we have Instructor Wang, hehe..." "Is Teacher Zheng around? I found a picture of a 270 specimen for reference—if she's not here, I'm posting it, okay?"

Before this person could confirm whether Zheng Zhixiu was present or not, Gan Lin used the QQ group administrator mute function to silence him for thirty minutes.

A male student immediately protested, "Protest! Committee Member is infringing upon a classmate's right to speak!"

The girls expressed their protest as well, though in truth, the vast majority of them were eager to see that picture.

Sure enough, moments later, a rather bold girl posted in the group, "I’ve seen that picture; it had mosaic censoring. Totally lame."

This led to an uproar in the group, but this girl privately received countless direct messages begging her to share the censored image...

Wang Zhuo was so engrossed in watching the spectacle that he momentarily forgot he was still in the shower, and when he grinned, warm water splashed into his mouth.

As he became more familiar with women, he could often predict their contradictory psychology: they were even better than men at saying one thing to your face and another behind your back. What they said and what they did, what they did and what they thought, and what they thought and what they said were often entirely inconsistent.

No wonder some predecessors concluded that "Boys, don't try to guess a girl's thoughts," "A woman's refusal shouldn't be taken seriously," and "When a woman says no, she often means yes."

Wang Zhuo could already imagine the mosaic picture being rapidly passed among the classmates. While publicly cursing the boys as vulgar and sleazy in the QQ group, they would privately scrutinize and comment on that picture.

He never expected that his own measurement would one day become the focal point of discussion for the entire class; Wang Zhuo was speechless at the situation.

Just then, a male student in the QQ group was vividly recounting, "The unspeakable incident that happened between me and Instructor Wang in the men's restroom." This fellow possessed excellent literary talent; his words rhymed and flowed perfectly, much like a storyteller reciting an epic.

Everyone was watching him entertain, and for a moment, the screen-swiping phenomenon decreased significantly. Wang Zhuo seized this opportunity, turned off the showerhead, and quickly dried himself off.

Just as he grabbed a towel to wrap around himself, he suddenly recalled Fatty Long's completely bare, bald eagle. A mischievous impulse struck him, and after a brief consideration, he retrieved the three-headed Philips electric shaver that Zhou Huaian had given him a few days prior.

Normally, he used a blade razor for his beard, resorting to the electric shaver only when rushing out the door. But this current application reminded him of Dongfang Bubai, so he conservatively opted for the electric device.

After a burst of humming, the world felt refreshed.

Thinking that Qi Fei would no longer complain about hair tickling her nostrils, that Guan Yingying couldn't braid it into tight curls, and that Gan Lin no longer had an excuse to refuse going all the way down, and anticipating their expressions when they saw this surprise—Wang Zhuo was inwardly delighted. He tidied up the floor quickly, rinsed away the stubble with water, wrapped himself in the bath towel, and stepped out.

Five minutes later, Fatty Long lost the bet. Whether Wang Zhuo performed better today, or if his 'other part' had grown along with his height, he won without even cheating.

"I am utterly defeated," Fatty Long announced mournfully in the QQ group: "Brother 250 has lost."

The QQ group exploded again, with cries for pictures and proof erupting everywhere. Some even heckled, claiming Fatty Long was a plant for Wang Zhuo, suggesting he staged this to glorify Wang Zhuo, the "Great Zhuo." They demanded Fatty Long provide a photo as proof of the truth.

"We want to see a picture of your face, Fatty Long, next to it—only then will we believe you," Cheng Gang demanded using large, bold text formatting.

System Notification: Member Cheng Gang has been muted by Administrator Gan Lin for thirty minutes.

"A bet is a bet," Wang Zhuo said smugly, clapping Fatty Long on the shoulder. "The keys are in the car; let's go now."

Fatty Long nodded with a bitter smile, gave the computer over to Wang Zhuo, grabbed the car keys from the living room, and headed downstairs to wash the car.

The stakes were three months of car washing. He certainly had work cut out for him now. Today it was just an Audi Q7, but if Wang Zhuo drove back that Mercedes RV one day, he'd see how he managed that.

Hearing Fatty Long shut the door and leave, Gan Lin quickly emerged from the bedroom. She exchanged a look with Wang Zhuo, and they both burst out laughing.

"Is it really twenty-five centimeters?" she asked, looking at the bath towel wrapped around Wang Zhuo's waist.

Wang Zhuo laughed, "Let me fetch the ruler."

The bamboo ruler was brought back. As he handed it to Gan Lin, preparing to slip off his towel, she unexpectedly raised the ruler, found the twenty-five-centimeter mark, gripped it, and began measuring down towards her own lower body.

Wang Zhuo let out a sudden snort of laughter. Measuring that way, the end of the ruler reached her navel.

With Fatty Long washing the car downstairs, Gan Lin absolutely refused to let Wang Zhuo have his way. She was both exasperated and amused by the "bald eagle" maneuver. After carefully manipulating and examining it for a long time, she allowed Wang Zhuo the sensation of being filled completely for the first time.

Honestly, this kind of move was impossible without prior practice. So, she only managed to hold it for one second before desperately pulling away from Wang Zhuo and rushing into the bathroom to gag.

"Turns out, one needs talent for this too..." Wang Zhuo muttered to himself, thinking that perhaps Qi Fei was more naturally gifted, and wondering about Guan Yingying—he was truly looking forward to it.

"What talent?" Gan Lin emerged from the bathroom, covering her mouth with a towel, her eyes still showing traces of tears.

"Heh heh," Wang Zhuo covered his reaction with a laugh, explaining, "I watch women in action films do this without much effort; maybe they are born with it."

"Definitely," Gan Lin nodded immediately, thinking to herself that no one would practice something this uncomfortable; it must be innate.

Wang Zhuo pulled her into an embrace and teased, "Tell me, what did that feel like just now?"

"You can try it yourself and find out," Gan Lin shot him an eye roll, leaned over, and picked up a large banana from the table.

Wang Zhuo was instantly defeated.

Fatty Long returned downstairs, sweating profusely after washing the car.

As he entered the door, Wang Zhuo was chatting with classmates in the QQ group, while Gan Lin was washing clothes in the bathroom.

In fact, summer clothes didn't get very dirty, just sweaty. They could be cleaned perfectly well in the automatic washing machine. Gan Lin's task was merely to sort the clothes inside the machine, find any forgotten items from the living room or bedroom, check for small belongings left in pockets, and then turn on the power button.

When Fatty Long walked into the bathroom, Gan Lin was frowning slightly, holding a pair of Wang Zhuo's underwear and sniffing it lightly. They met face-to-face, and she quickly threw the underwear into the washing machine.

This involved rather embarrassing privacy. Fatty Long immediately pretended not to have noticed, greeted her, and then, without even daring to wash his hands, grabbed a towel and came out.

Standing on the balcony, wiping sweat, he pondered what he had just witnessed. Gan Lin clearly wasn't a fetishist or anything similar, so why was she smelling Wang Zhuo's discarded underwear with such a strange expression?

"Damn it," he suddenly slapped his thigh, realizing the reason. Gan Lin had washed clothes for Wang Zhuo just the day before yesterday. That pair of underwear must have been changed yesterday or today, and she hadn't seen Wang Zhuo during that day and a half. If there was something or a scent on that underwear that shouldn't have been there, wouldn't it catch her attention?