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

Of course, this Liu Qiang is not Liu Xiaoyu's brother.

Li Yichen's mind clicked in half a second—it was another Liu Qiang. A college classmate, in the same year, but in a different department.

He was wearing a white polo shirt, his hair was slicked back, and he was holding a cup of coffee, his face showing a knowing smile.

Whenever he feels he has the upper hand, Liu Qiang acts like this: his mouth is tilted to one side, his chin is raised, and his nostrils practically point to the ceiling.

It's been over two years since we last met. The last time we bumped into each other was during graduation season, at a barbecue stall near the south gate of the school. We glanced at each other but neither of us spoke to the other.

This grudge isn't a huge one, but it's not insignificant either.

In the first semester of my sophomore year, I was taking a macroeconomics class. Xiao Yuqing sat next to Li Yichen, and Liu Qiang sat in the third row behind. For the entire semester, this guy's eyes were almost always glued to the back of Xiao Yuqing's head, not the PowerPoint presentation.

One day after class, Liu Qiang strolled over and patted Li Yichen's desk with a grin.

"Dude, can I switch seats? I can't see the blackboard from the back."

Li Yichen raised his head slightly at that moment.

Two weeks ago, after a physical examination, the school bulletin board posted the vision test results for the whole class in black and white. Liu Qiang's vision was 5.2 in both eyes.

Can't see the blackboard?

"No change."

Not a single extra word was given.

From that day on, Liu Qiang blacklisted him.

He deliberately cut in front of him while queuing in the cafeteria, "accidentally" bumped into his shoulder in the corridor, and when he was chatting with a few buddies downstairs in the dormitory, he raised his voice to the top of his lungs—"You know, some people are so poor they're practically dirt poor, yet they still hog up seats and won't give them up, what are they pretending to be so great for?"

Li Yichen never responded. It wasn't that he was holding back; it was laziness. Arguing with someone like that was too much effort in the long run.

We hadn't seen each other for over two years since graduation, and today we unexpectedly bumped into each other in front of the watch store in Hang Lung Plaza.

What a small world!

Li Yichen glanced at Liu Qiang, turned around, and walked into the store.

The words "Hey—isn't this Li Yichen?" were still hanging in the air, waiting for someone to respond. But he acted as if he hadn't heard them at all, and walked straight away without even pausing.

Liu Qiang stood there with his coffee pestle in hand, and bit his cheek.

The coffee doesn't smell good anymore.

This guy—he's still exactly the same as he was in college, oozing with smugness from the inside out.

He tossed the paper cup into the trash can next to him and followed him inside.

Li Yichen entered the store and glanced around.

The exhibition hall wasn't large, but it was tastefully decorated. Dark wood display cases were inlaid with warm-colored LED strips, making the luster on the watch dials stand out in patches.

He stopped in front of the middle row of display cases.

A watch.

Black dial, Oyster case, green ceramic bezel. The dial markers are illuminated by a spotlight, creating a ring of tiny, scattered lights.

This item was placed in the very center of the display case, with its base two centimeters higher than the two sides, and a spotlight was turned on specifically for it.

The store's signature item was instantly recognizable.

He waved to the female saleswoman behind the counter.

"Take a look at this watch."

The saleswoman was in her early twenties, with a neat low ponytail and her name tag reading "Chen Xue". She responded and bent down to reach for the latch at the bottom of the display case.

The moment the hand touched—

"Don't take it."

A voice came from behind. It wasn't loud, but it carried an unyielding force.

Chen Xue's hand froze. She looked up, her professional smile faltering.

"manager."

Liu Qiang walked around the display case and stood next to Chen Xue. He crossed his arms, raised his chin slightly, and glanced at Li Yichen out of the corner of his eye.

Chen Xue glanced at Liu Qiang, then at Li Yichen, and cautiously began to speak.

"Manager, this customer wants to see this watch, I—"

"I told you not to take it."

Liu Qiang interrupted her and gestured towards Li Yichen with his lip.

"This guy was my college classmate. Do you think I don't know him? This watch isn't something he can afford."

Chen Xue withdrew her hand from the lock.

She straightened up and quickly glanced at Li Yichen from head to toe.

The dark gray, lightweight shirt, with its drape and sheen, clearly wasn't from a department store discount section—she recognized the brand. It was an Italian bespoke line, with individual pieces retailing for 80,000 yuan or more.

Black trousers, with a clean cut.

The belt buckle is a matte dark silver color, without a logo, but the workmanship and texture are excellent.

This whole outfit must cost at least several hundred thousand.

Someone who can spend hundreds of thousands on clothes can't afford a watch?

Chen Xue forced herself to raise her head.

"Manager, since the customer wants to see it, let's take a look. We're in business; there's no reason to refuse a customer..."

Li Yichen stood opposite the display case, his hands in his pockets, looking at Chen Xue.

He nodded slightly.

She's a competent salesperson. She has good judgment and courage, far superior to that manager whose brain is filled with cement.

Liu Qiang's face darkened.

A sales clerk at the counter, in front of the customer, retorted to his words. He was the manager. He had said no, and his subordinates jumped in to argue—what kind of behavior is that?

"Are you the manager or am I the manager?"

His voice suddenly rose, and the air in the exhibition hall seemed to tremble at those words.

"I said you can't take it, and that means you can't take it! Get out of here!"

He waved to Chen Xue.

Chen Xue shrugged. Her lips moved, but she didn't say anything more, lowering her head and retreating to the corner of the counter.

She turned around, took her phone out of her skirt pocket, and quickly tapped the screen with her thumb.

A message was sent.

Recipient: "General Manager Wang"

The message was brief: "Mr. Wang, a customer wanted to see the store's flagship watch, but Manager Liu wouldn't let him take it and even told him to his face that the customer couldn't afford it. The customer was wearing a custom-made Brioni shirt, and his outfit was worth at least two or three hundred thousand yuan."

After sending the message, she put her phone back in her pocket, lowered her head, and stood in the corner without saying a word.

Liu Qiang's attention was entirely on Li Yichen, and he didn't notice her little actions at all.

"Hey, Li Yichen."

He leaned against the display case, crossed his arms in front of his chest, with the same air of someone sitting with their legs crossed.

"You've probably come to the wrong place, haven't you? Do you even know where you are? If you don't, go outside and turn right, look up at the sign. Patek Philippe. This isn't a place for someone like you."

Li Yichen looked at him. No rush.

What happened to Patek Philippe?

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and pointed towards the display case—directly facing the Greenwich Mean Time display with its green ring and black dial.

"And what do you mean by 'not something someone like me can afford'? Is this watch that expensive?"

Liu Qiang smiled.

He laughed so loudly that the sound bounced off the glass wall of the exhibition hall.

"Do you know what you mean?"

He gestured with his chin toward the watch.

"This is our store's prized possession. Ten million. You heard me clearly—ten million."

He held up one finger and waved it in front of Li Yichen.

"Even the cheapest piece of this stuff could earn you enough to last you decades. Do you know what you mean? You probably can't even afford one of these screws, can you?"

As Liu Qiang spoke, he waved to Li Yichen again—in the exact same gesture he had used to chase Chen Xue away, without even changing the angle.

"Go away, get out of the way. Don't get in my way."

Li Yichen didn't move.

The image from just now flashed through his mind. The way Liu Qiang waved to shoo Chen Xue away, and the way he was waving at him now—it was a copy-paste. That's how he was back in college—always acting like he was the best. He was refused a seat change once, and he held a grudge for two and a half years. Now he's a watch shop manager, and he's got the nerve to swagger.

Ten million? Is that a lot?

You should know that he currently has 1.3 billion yuan in his bank account.

"What if I could afford it?"

Liu Qiang was stunned for a second.

Then he laughed even louder. He tilted his head back, his Adam's apple bobbed twice, and his smugness seemed to burst from the top of his head.

"You? Can you afford it?"

He reached out and patted the glass of the display case, making a crisp "snap" sound.

"If you can afford this watch—I'll kneel down right now and call you Dad."

The exhibition hall fell silent for a moment.

Chen Xue, who was in the corner, raised her head slightly.

Li Yichen tilted his head and looked Liu Qiang up and down for two seconds.

That kind of scrutiny isn't an examination. It's like flipping through the leaves of a cabbage in a market, then disdainfully putting it back.

"I don't have a son like you."

Liu Qiang's smile froze on his face.

"It's not presentable."

Li Yichen added another sentence. It was casual, like casually mentioning the nice weather.

Liu Qiang's face went from red to white. It turned even whiter than the spotlights in the display case.

His fingers scratched across the display case, his nails digging into the gap between the glass and the metal frame.

"Li Yichen".

Squeezed out from between his teeth, each word bursting out one by one.

"All you do is talk the talk. If you're so capable, then buy it. If not, get out. Stop pretending to be all high and mighty!"

His arm was outstretched, his finger pointing towards the door. His fingertips were trembling. Not from fear, but from anger.

Li Yichen looked at the trembling finger.

He didn't say anything.

Not urgent.

Eleventh floor.

In an office on the top floor of Hang Lung Plaza, a middle-aged man in a gray suit stood up from behind his desk.

He clutched his phone in his hand. The screen displayed the message Chen Xue had sent.

He watched it twice.

A Brioni custom-made shirt. The outfit cost two or three hundred thousand. The manager blocked them from looking at it, and even said in front of the customers that he couldn't afford it.

The middle-aged man's temple throbbed. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, flung open the office door, and strode toward the elevator.

The leather shoes stomped heavily and hurriedly on the marble floor of the corridor.

The elevator doors opened.

He went inside and pressed the button for the first floor.

The numbers jump down layer by layer.

11. 10. 9.

8. 7. 6.

In the shop.

Liu Qiang pointed to the doorway, his facial muscles taut.

Li Yichen stood in front of the display case, putting his hands back into his pockets.

He didn't look towards the door.

Looking behind Liu Qiang, he saw a figure in a gray suit walking briskly towards him from the direction of the elevator through the glass doors of the exhibition hall.

They were walking very fast.

His face was drawn out.