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

For the next two weeks, Li Yichen completely gave up.

Every morning at eight o'clock, I set up a folding chair at my private fishing platform by the Huangpu River, cast my fishing rod, and put my phone aside.

Forget about space carriers, lunar bases, and orders from the four major war zones—they threw them all at Ling'er and Liu Ruyan.

He now has only one goal in life: fishing.

Ling'er sends out progress reports every day without fail. Currently, the mothership's keel has been laid to 12% completion, and the dome of the second lunar base is nearing completion...

Li Yichen glanced at the data, hummed in agreement, and continued to stare at the float.

However, God probably felt that a trillionaire was not worthy of having a talent for fishing.

For seven consecutive days.

Seven days.

Total results: three palm-sized white strips and a yellowed plastic bag.

Every day after school, Miao Miao rushes to the backyard in her slippers before even putting down her schoolbag.

"Bro! Did you catch a big fish today?"

Li Yichen remained silent for three seconds.

"……No."

A compassion far beyond her years appeared on Miao Miao's little face.

The little girl walked over, tiptoed to reach the back of his hand, and gently patted it.

"It's okay, bro, you'll definitely be able to do it tomorrow."

The tone was like a homeroom teacher comforting the student who was last in the grade.

Li Yichen's hand holding the fishing rod trembled slightly.

Inside the watch, Ling'er was lying on the edge of the dial, laughing so hard she was shaking, her little legs kicking in the air several times.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

You're laughing.

"I am artificial intelligence, I cannot laugh."

tenth day.

The fishing rod suddenly sank.

Li Yichen sprang up from the folding chair, gripping the fishing rod handle tightly with both hands. The fishing line stretched taut, and a splash of white appeared on the water's surface.

Five minutes later.

A two-pound bass was lifted out of the water, its silver scales shimmering in the sunlight.

Li Yichen held up the fish, his mouth stretched from ear to ear in a wide grin.

He specially asked Zhou Dahai to steam it in the most meticulous way, with scallions and ginger at the bottom, and steamed fish soy sauce drizzled on top until it was shiny. When it was served, the whole fish was still steaming.

"Come on, have a taste, I caught it myself."

Miaomiao picked up a piece of the tenderest meat from the fish's belly with her chopsticks, put it in her mouth, and chewed it a couple of times.

Then her little nose wrinkled up.

"Brother, this fish tastes muddy."

The chopsticks froze in mid-air.

Ji Yanran stood beside her, holding a bowl of soup. Her shoulders shrugged, and she choked on every sip, coughing until her face turned red.

Li Yichen slammed his chopsticks on the table.

"impossible."

He picked up a piece and put it in his mouth.

I chewed for three seconds.

His expression froze.

It does have a muddy smell.

Miao Miao tilted her head to look at him, her dark, grape-like eyes filled with sympathy.

Ji Yanran finally finished coughing, wiped her mouth with a tissue, and said with a hint of laughter in her voice, "President Li, why don't you stick to your high-tech stuff? Fishing really isn't for you."

Li Yichen picked up another piece of fish without expression.

It tastes like mud.

It still tastes like mud.

"...Uncle Zhou, pack up the rest of the fish and feed it to the cat."

"Boss, we don't have cats."

"Then throw it away."

Day 15, 3 PM.

The autumn sun warmly bathed the fishing platform, and the river surface shimmered with golden light. Occasionally, a cargo ship would pass by in the distance, emitting a long whistle.

Li Yichen propped up his fishing rod with his eyes half-closed. Today, the float was as still as if it had taken root.

At this rate, today will be another glorious day for the Air Force.

Ling'er's holographic figure was perched on the edge of the watch, her two short legs dangling back and forth, and she held up a pair of sunglasses in her hands, giving off an annoying "I'm on vacation too" vibe.

"Brother, with your luck, you could be an air force commander in ancient times."

"Try saying it again."

"In fifteen days, I caught three small whitebait and a plastic bag full. Oh, and one bass whose flesh had gone bad. If I were to convert that to an hourly wage—"

"Ling'er".

"Okay, I'll shut up."

A river breeze blew by, carrying the fresh, slightly fishy smell of water plants.

A rare moment of blankness where I don't have to think about anything. My mind is free of the progress of laying the mothership's keel, the temperature curve of vibranium forging, and the urgent order calls from the four war zones.

It's nice to just sit here.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated.

A name appeared on the screen—Liu Guoliang.

Li Yichen picked up the phone with one hand, swiped to answer, and spoke in a lazy afternoon tone.

"Brother Liu, did you miss me?"

There was no laughter on the other end of the phone.

Liu Guoliang's voice was very low, as if he were bringing his mouth close to the microphone. His speaking speed was twice as fast as usual.

"Xiao Li, are you free now?"

"It's convenient, I'm fishing. What's up?"

"What kind of fish are you fishing for!"

Liu Guoliang's voice suddenly rose a notch, then quickly returned to normal. As if realizing there were people around, he abruptly lowered his volume.

"Can you get to the military region within an hour? It's urgent. I can't say it over the phone."

Li Yichen's fingers twitched as he held the phone.

Having dealt with Liu Guoliang for over half a year, he knew the man's temperament inside and out. He was a real tightwad, had a fiery temper, and spoke like a machine gun, never beating around the bush.

What could make him so anxious, what could make him lose control of his voice on the phone—

This is no small matter.

"One hour is enough. I'll leave right away."

"hurry up."

*Click*, he hung up. Without even a word.

Li Yichen put away his fishing rod, leaned his folding chair against the wall, and strode towards the garage.

Ling'er peeked halfway out from her wristwatch, her sunglasses already off, her two pixelated eyes gleaming with the faint light of data analysis.

"Brother, I ran through Uncle Liu's voiceprint just now. His heart rate was 30% higher than his normal baseline, and his vocal cord muscle tension was abnormal. His emotional indicators leaned towards anxiety and depression—it doesn't seem like a military crisis, but more like a major change in his personal emotional state."

Li Yichen opened the car door, got in, and started the engine with a single button.

"Stop guessing. You'll know when we get there."

Looking up, the U8 glides out of the villa area gate and merges into the expressway leading to the Shanghai Military Region.

Fifty-two minutes later.

The car was parked outside the main gate of the Shanghai Military Region.

As soon as Li Yichen opened the car door, before one foot even touched the ground, he saw Liu Guoliang already standing next to the guard post.

His military uniform was crisp and clean, but a button on the collar was undone. His hair wasn't as neatly combed as usual; a few strands were sticking up at his temples, as if he'd just haphazardly tousled it a couple of times before leaving in the morning.

This detail made Li Yichen's heart skip a beat.

Liu Guoliang strode over. There were no pleasantries, no smiles. He patted Liu Guoliang's shoulder with a hand, harder than usual.

"Come with me."

The two walked through the camp. Along the way, they passed several groups of armed sentries. Everyone stood at attention and saluted when they saw Liu Guoliang, but no one gave Li Yichen a second glance—clearly, they had been instructed beforehand.

I entered a detached gray office building. The corridor was so quiet that only the echo of leather shoes on the terrazzo could be heard.

Liu Guoliang pushed open the door to a small conference room and stepped aside to let Li Yichen enter first.

The door closed.

There were only the two of them inside. The fluorescent light emitted a faint hum of electricity.

Liu Guoliang didn't sit. He stood with his back to Li Yichen for a few seconds, one hand resting on the windowsill. His knuckles were white from the exertion. Outside the window was a gray-green training field, empty and deserted.

Then he turned around.

The expression on that face—Li Yichen had never seen it before.

It wasn't anger. It wasn't irritability.

It's a feeling of powerlessness that seeps into your very bones. Like the roots of a large tree rotting underground, while the outer canopy is still holding it up, but you know it won't last much longer.

"Brother Liu."

Li Yichen pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, looking straight ahead.

"What exactly happened?"

Liu Guoliang was silent for three seconds. His lips moved twice, as if searching for a suitable opening.

Finally, he pulled out a chair and sat down. He interlaced his fingers and braced his hands on the table, his knuckles turning white from the effort.

"Commander Xiao...something has happened."

Li Yichen's back tensed up.

Xiao Jingshan. Commander-in-Chief of the Shanghai Military Region. General. The one who personally pinned the rank of Major on his chest. The final decision-maker for the Heavenly Soldier Project. The key figure who made the final decision to have the military fully cooperate with him.

"What's going on?"

"He carried out a mission on the northwestern border in his early years." Liu Guoliang's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against glass. "An explosion occurred, and shrapnel injured his internal organs. At that time, the field hospital had limited resources, and they were able to clean up part of the debris, but some fragments were still embedded deep inside and could not be removed."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down twice.

"He's been gritting his teeth and enduring it all these years. His medical reports get worse and worse, but he won't let anyone tell. No more than five people in the military region know about it."

Li Yichen leaned back in his chair, his brows furrowing more and more tightly.

"A week ago," Liu Guoliang slowed his speech, each word seeming to be painstakingly extracted, "he was reviewing documents in his office when suddenly—"

He raised his hand and made a gesture as if he were falling off a chair.

"He passed out immediately. He was already unconscious when the guards rushed in. The military general hospital did everything they could to save him, and he did wake up, but..."

"What did the hospital say?"

"The nation's top expert team, including seven academicians, flew in overnight from Beijing for a consultation."

Liu Guoliang's voice sounded as if something was blocking it, and the last syllable trembled.

"Conclusion—multiple organ failure. Liver, kidneys, lungs, all are deteriorating. The shrapnel fragments from those years created a chronic inflammatory response in the body, which accumulated over decades, leaving the internal organs riddled with holes."

He raised his head.

Her eyes were slightly red, but her gaze was as intense as red-hot iron.

"There is no cure."

The four words slammed onto the table, into the air, and onto every wall of this drab little conference room.

Li Yichen did not respond.

He is waiting.

Liu Guoliang stared at him for five seconds. Ten seconds.

Then there was this deputy commander, who commanded tens of thousands of elite troops, a powerful military man whom the leaders of the four theater commands called a miserly tycoon—

"I called you here today."

His voice suddenly became very soft.

"I want to ask you a question."

Li Yichen looked into his eyes.

"Do you have anything... that could save him?"

The fluorescent lights in the conference room hummed. Outside the window, the training field was deserted, and birds flew across the gray-green horizon in the distance.

Liu Guoliang gave a bitter smile, a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"I know this question sounds absurd. A group of academicians have been sentenced to death, and I'm asking a young man who makes chips—it sounds like a joke."

His fingers clenched and unclenched on the table.

"But you are Li Yichen."

The volume was kept to a minimum.

"You can pull out anything at random and overturn the world's understanding of things. I really—"

He swallowed hard.

"There is really no other way."

The air froze.

Li Yichen leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling on Liu Guoliang's white knuckles.

Suddenly, something popped into Li Yichen's mind: a nanomedical pod. If this thing could be made, it could definitely save Commander Xiao's life.