Super Rich: Starting the game by going back ten years to buy Bitcoin

Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains; it was exactly seven o'clock.

Li Yichen opened his eyes, his neck stiff. Not because of his ribs, but because there was a head on each side of him.

Xiao Yuqing was nestled in the crook of his right arm, her sleeping posture unusually proper, her breathing long and even. Liu Xiaoyu lay on her left side, one hand still resting on his waist, her fingers unconsciously clutching the hem of his T-shirt.

He stretched his neck, and his joints cracked twice. The tightness in his ribs had lessened to almost negligible levels; the repair efficiency of the gene-optimized serum was truly phenomenal.

It's impossible to turn over; there are people on both sides.

Li Yichen stared at the ceiling for five seconds, then coughed lightly.

Xiao Yuqing on the right woke up first. Her eyelashes fluttered twice, and she suddenly opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. Her entire face changed from white to pink and then to red, so fast it could be used as a color correction tutorial.

Liu Xiaoyu on the left was a beat behind. She groggily rubbed against the pillow—and then realized that the pillow was hard, moving, and warm to the touch.

The hand retracted. The person sprang.

"I...I'm going to wash up!"

Liu Xiaoyu wrapped herself in the blanket, rolled out of bed, and ran barefoot to the bathroom.

Xiao Yuqing sat up, gathering her loose hair with her hands, and didn't dare to look at him. She managed a hoarse voice as she managed to squeeze out, "I...I'll use the bathroom in the guest room."

After saying that, he ran away.

Li Yichen lay motionless. Most of the blanket had been pulled away, leaving him sprawled on the bed with his legs bare, staring at the ceiling.

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

Twenty minutes later.

The three of them came out of the master bedroom. Li Yichen walked in front, followed by Liu Xiaoyu and Xiao Yuqing, who kept a half-meter distance between them and didn't look at each other. Their faces were so red they could boil eggs.

Just then, a small head popped out from the stairwell.

Seedlings.

The little girl, wearing a pink nightgown, with three tufts of hair sticking up in her hair, hopped up to me, clutching a little rabbit doll in her hand.

"Brother Li! Uncle Zhou said breakfast is ready and asked me to come and call him—"

They stopped in their tracks.

The big eyes darted between the three people. Then, tilting its head, it spoke with the innocent naiveté of a child.

"Sister Liu, Sister Xiao, did you sleep with Brother Li last night?"

The air in the corridor seemed to freeze instantly.

Liu Xiaoyu's face turned from red to purple, and she covered her face with both hands. Xiao Yuqing turned to face the wall, her shoulders shaking, it was hard to tell whether she was laughing or trying to disappear on the spot.

Li Yichen bent down and picked Miaomiao up, gently tapping her forehead with his index finger.

"Children shouldn't pry into adults' affairs."

Miao Miao touched her forehead, pouting. "Why?"

Li Yichen didn't answer, but picked her up and walked downstairs. The two women followed behind, wishing they could bury their heads in the cracks of the floor.

First floor.

Ji Yanran was already seated at the dining table.

A bowl of plain congee, a dish of pickled cucumbers, and a cup of soy milk. He was slowly taking a bite of half a cucumber, holding it between his chopsticks.

Footsteps approached. She looked up.

The three people filed down the stairs. Li Yichen led the way, carrying Miaomiao in his arms, his expression calm. The two behind him—

Liu Xiaoyu kept her head down, her ears bright red, and her hair still damp. Xiao Yuqing's eyelashes fluttered, her gaze wandering aimlessly, avoiding any look towards the dining table.

Ji Yanran paused for a moment in mid-air with her chopsticks.

She didn't say anything. Not a single syllable escaped her throat. She simply lowered her head and continued drinking her porridge.

But the hand holding the chopsticks had its knuckles slightly tightened.

Breakfast was served in an eerie silence.

Miaomiao was the only happy one. She swung her little legs back and forth on the stool, chattering about the kindergarten drawing competition.

"The teacher said my rocket drawing is the best! It's even better than Tongtong's! Tongtong's looks like a caterpillar—"

Everyone laughed when they heard Miao Miao's words.

Li Niannian brought out a plate of fried eggs from the kitchen and glanced around at the people at the table. Liu Xiaoyu was engrossed in eating her porridge, Xiao Yuqing was stirring her soy milk but hadn't drunk any, and Ji Yanran's expression was calm, but her chopsticks were moving much faster than usual.

Li Niannian silently placed the fried egg on the table and turned to go back to the kitchen.

She can't control this kind of thing, and she doesn't want to.

Liu Xiaoyu was the first to stand up. The chair leg scraped against the floor tiles with a thud.

"Brother Li, I'm leaving now. I have to go to work today."

Xiao Yuqing followed closely behind, picking up her bowl and heading towards the kitchen. "I'm leaving too; the shop might be a bit busy today."

The two put on their shoes almost simultaneously. The door opened and closed so quickly it was practically a race for their lives.

The living room was silent for three seconds.

Ji Yanran put down her chopsticks, picked up a napkin to wipe her mouth, stood up, grabbed her briefcase from the sofa, changed into her high heels, and walked towards the entrance.

Reaching the doorway. Stopping.

He turned around.

Li Yichen was still sitting at the dining table, holding a bowl of soy milk, drinking it sip by sip, his expression excessively relaxed.

Ji Yanran spoke up.

"Boss, you're in that state, how can you still be thinking about doing that kind of thing?"

Her voice was flat, and she enunciated each word clearly.

"Can't you just take a few days off and wait until you've fully recovered before talking about it?"

Li Yichen spat out the soy milk in his mouth.

White liquid splattered across half the table, with a few drops landing on the edge of Miao Miao's bowl. Miao Miao yelled, "Brother, you've dirtied my porridge!"

Li Yichen frantically grabbed a tissue to wipe his mouth, then looked up at Ji Yanran at the door, his face a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"Huh? Instead of going to your job, why are you meddling in my personal affairs?"

Something flashed in Ji Yanran's eyes. It happened so quickly she didn't even notice it herself.

He snorted coldly.

He turned around. He opened the door. He left.

The sound of high heels clicking on the steps outside the door was particularly loud. Each click was imbued with emotion.

The door closed.

The living room fell silent.

Miao Miao lay on the opposite side of the dining table, her hands supporting her chin, her little legs swinging on the stool.

"Brother, Sister Ji seems unhappy."

Li Yichen looked in the direction where Ji Yanran had disappeared through the doorway, and the corners of his mouth slowly curled up.

This girl... is she jealous?

He finished the remaining half bowl of soy milk, and his mood inexplicably improved a lot.

After tidying up, Li Yichen hummed a tune as he went to the backyard.

I reclined the rocking chair, put on my sunglasses, and draped my legs over the armrest. A river breeze blew in from the opposite bank, carrying the warmth unique to early summer. I exuded a carefree and relaxed air.

Zhou Dahai glanced out the kitchen window and muttered, "Young people are different. He broke three ribs, but he still has so much energy."

The watch vibrated slightly.

Ling'er's voice came from close to her ear, very softly.

"Brother, there's something I need to tell you."

Li Yichen hummed in response, without opening his eyes.

"The United States has already released a press release stating that the USS Ford experienced an accidental ammunition detonation during routine training, resulting in damage to the ship and casualties. The statement made no mention of any external attack."

Li Yichen's lips curled slightly beneath his sunglasses.

"Just as I expected. I had to swallow my pride and bear it."

Ling'er continued, "However, on the covert side, I've detected that the US intelligence system launched a global tracking project codenamed 'Black Hawk Down' in the past twelve hours. It mobilized the resources of three reconnaissance satellites and eleven overseas intelligence stations to specifically investigate the origin of the 'unidentified flying entity'."

She paused.

"Currently, their search is focused on the military-industrial complexes of Russia and China."

Li Yichen closed his eyes and tapped his fingers lightly twice on the armrest of the chair.

"Let them investigate. They can investigate for as long as they want, but they won't find anything about me."

The armor had no nationality markings or response codes. Although some of the manufacturing materials came from military sources, the handling process was deliberately obscured. In addition, Ling'er processed all digital traces throughout the process—even if you combined the CIA and NSA, they would only be able to stare blankly at a bunch of radar noise.

Ling'er responded.

It paused for half a second.

"elder brother."

"Um?"

"Were you...happy last night?"

Li Yichen opened one eye behind his sunglasses.

"Why would someone as an AI care about this?"

"I'm just curious!" Ling'er's voice rose half an octave, carrying a mischievous and irritating tone. "Your heart rate fluctuated abnormally several times last night, peaking at 1:17 AM—"

"Shut up."

Li Yichen expressionlessly flipped his watch over, placing the dial face down on the armrest.

Ling'er's laughter came out muffledly from beneath the surface; though muffled, her smugness was impossible to hide.

The courtyard fell silent.

The warm sunlight bathed him. The rocking chair creaked and swayed, and a river breeze carrying moisture drifted in from afar.

The man with three broken ribs had his eyes closed, a smile that was hard to decipher.

The armor production line on the 66th floor is running. The brain-computer interface production line on the 63rd floor is running. Liu Ruyan at the aerospace base is pushing forward the Lingxiao II plan. The factory is in its final stages. Chips are being shipped out.

And he was sunbathing.

at the same time.

The headquarters building of Future Technology. Sixtieth floor.

Ji Yanran sat behind her desk.

The pen in my hand swept across the paper—the same character "准" (zhun, meaning "accurate") was written three times, and each time it was crooked.

She threw the pen down.

He leaned back in his chair and covered his face with his hands.

My mind is filled with the image I saw when I pushed open the door last night. A blanket, with two large bulges on either side. The outlines are clearly defined.

And this morning. When the two women came out of his room, their ears were bright red and their gazes were evasive.

She took a deep breath and lowered her hand from her face.

He said to the air, "What does this have to do with me?"

I picked up my pen and continued signing documents.

My hands are still trembling slightly.

My phone vibrated.

She glanced at the screen.

Sender: Fengyue.

Content: Mr. Ji, the agenda and attendee list for today's brain-computer interface chip signing ceremony have been compiled. Please review them. The attachment has been sent to your email address.

Ji Yanran stared at the two characters "Feng Yue" for three seconds.

Then flip the phone over, screen down, and place it face down on the table.

The new secretary is quite efficient.

She buried herself back in the pile of documents. The pen tip touched the paper, drawing a crisp, clean signature.

Those things that shouldn't have been there were buried along with it.