Why did the system take my request to take photos with a cosplayer seriously?

"Hello teacher, is this where we register for the School of Journalism and Communication?"

The final consonant rises, as if each word is swirling on the tip of the tongue, giving it an accent similar to "Cheese Snow Leopard".

Ding Heng subconsciously turned his head.

A girl is standing in front of the registration table.

He wasn't very tall, probably just over 1.5 meters, and dressed simply.

Her hair was tied into two braids that hung down in front of her chest, with the ends of the braids tied with red hair ties.

She has a round face and her skin isn't particularly fair, but it has a rosy glow from being at high altitude.

Ding Heng's mind went blank.

Pema.

Although the temperament was completely different from that in his dream, he wouldn't mistake that face.

"What are you looking at?"

Long He followed Ding Heng's gaze and asked in an annoyed tone, "You know him?"

"do not know."

Ding Heng withdrew his gaze, but his heart was in turmoil.

In my dream, Baima was a rich young lady, a mischievous and clever little devil.

The white horse in front of me...

"that……"

Bai Ma's voice sounded a little embarrassed: "Hello, senior, may I ask..."

Before she could finish speaking, the senior student in charge of registration looked up and sized her up.

"Excuse me, could you please speak Mandarin?"

"Am I speaking Mandarin...?"

Bai Ma's accent was so typical that the senior couldn't help but let out a sneer.

Inspired by him, the people around him also chuckled softly.

Faced with the ridicule of the crowd, Baima's face turned ugly, and she stood frozen in place.

Just as the senior was about to speak again, a hand suddenly reached out and slammed onto the table.

With a loud "smack," everyone was startled.

Ding Heng looked down at him and asked, "Which college are you from?"

The senior student was stunned: "What?"

Do you know what ethnic unity is?

Ding Heng was unreasonable and directly accused them: "These Tibetan students have come all the way here, is it appropriate for you to make fun of their accent?"

The senior's expression changed, and he opened his mouth as if to explain.

Ding Heng took out his phone and pointed the camera at his senior: "I recorded everything just now. How many trending topics do you think this will make?"

"you!"

The senior student's face turned pale, and he reached out to snatch the phone.

Ding Heng dodged to the side with a nimble movement.

"Stealing your phone?"

A crowd had already gathered around to watch the spectacle and whisper among themselves.

A middle-aged teacher rushed over, sweat beading on his forehead.

"What happened? What happened?"

Ding Heng put his phone away: "Hello teacher, this senior just made a joke about the accents of ethnic minority students. I reminded him to watch his words and actions, but he felt that I was meddling."

The teacher glanced at the pale-faced senior, then at Baima who was standing silently with her head down, and her heart skipped a beat.

Who can bear such a heavy accusation?

"It's a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding, it's all a misunderstanding."

The teacher quickly tried to smooth things over, turning to the senior student and saying sternly, "Why aren't you apologizing to this student right now?"

The senior's face turned pale and then flushed, and finally he managed to squeeze out a "I'm sorry" through gritted teeth.

"N-It's okay..."

Baima raised her head and quickly responded.

The teacher then turned to Ding Heng, smiling apologetically: "Student, I know you meant well, but you have to be careful what you do. Could you please delete the video first? Making a big fuss like this won't have a good impact..."

Ding Heng nodded. As a freshman, he didn't dare to make a big fuss and deleted the video in front of everyone.

The teacher breathed a sigh of relief and quickly gestured for the senior student to leave first.

The crowd gradually dispersed.

Bai Ma looked up at Ding Heng and said, "Th-thank you!"

"You're welcome."

Ding Heng put his phone back in his pocket and turned to leave with Long He.

Baima jogged up to catch up: "Um... how did you know I'm from an ethnic minority?"

Ding Heng's lips twitched: "Little sister, don't you know you have an accent?"

Baima smiled sheepishly: "I thought I had almost finished making changes."

The three of them walked into the school together, chatting as they went.

"You came from the snowy region?"

"Um... I'm also the first 985 university student in our pastoral area."

"You're not even eighteen yet, are you?"

"Yeah! I even skipped grades when I was little."

"Amazing!"

Ding Heng secretly began to analyze the situation...

Unlike in my dream, the Pema in front of me was just an ordinary Tibetan girl who was doing well in her studies. She probably had never left the snowy region much since she was a child.

The three of them stopped at a fork in the road.

Baima bowed to Ding Heng: "Thank you so much for today... My name is Baima Yangjin, you can call me Baima."

"Ding Heng".

Ding Heng recalled his mischievous stepsister from his dream, then looked at the simple-minded girl in front of him, and couldn't help but nag, "When you argue with someone in the future, don't try to reason with them. Reasoning is the most useless thing to do in an argument; it's easiest to just label them..."

Baima paused for a moment, then shook her head vigorously.

"No, no, ethnic minorities and Han people are the same. We are all one family. We can't threaten people with this kind of thing."

Her tone was serious, and her face was tense.

“My mother said that the country built roads, electricity, and schools for our pastoral areas, giving us the opportunity to study in the mainland. We should be grateful and not use this as leverage to bully others.”

Looking at that earnest little face, Ding Heng couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

Wow, they've got pretty high awareness.

"Okay, you're right. I wish you all the best in college."

"Suddenly..." (Thank you in Tibetan)

Baima smiled at him, then turned and left.

Her braids swayed behind her as she walked lightly.

Ding Heng watched her walk away before turning his gaze away.

Turning her head, she met Long He's gaze.

"You two seemed to be having a good chat?"

"how?"

"You wouldn't like that type, would you?"

Which type?

"Someone as small as her."

Longhe gestured to indicate Baima's height, his face full of disdain.

Ding Heng was both amused and exasperated: "What are you thinking? This young girl came to register alone and was bullied. What's wrong with me speaking up for her?"

"Okay, okay, you have a strong sense of justice."

Longhe waved his hand and didn't ask any further questions.

Ding Heng picked up his suitcase and walked towards the boys' dormitory building.

"Wait for me downstairs, I'll go upstairs to put my things away."

"Ah."

Longhe leaned against the flower bed downstairs, looking down at his phone.

Ding Heng climbed to the fourth floor and pushed open the door to room 412.

The dormitory was empty; the four beds were bare, covered only with the straw mats provided by the school.

He threw his suitcase on the ground, randomly picked a lower bunk by the window, stuffed his things into the closet, tidied up briefly, and went back downstairs.

Ding Heng patted Long He on the shoulder: "Let's go, come with me to buy some things."

The two arrived at the supermarket and, to save time, decided to split up.

Long He turned and walked towards the household goods section, while Ding Heng went to the general merchandise section. Just as he turned a corner, he caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of his eye.