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

"Brother, the 24 hours are up."

Li Yichen opened his eyes. His gaze first met the terrazzo floor, then his knees, and then the tobacco-smelling military overcoat on his shoulders.

With the back of my head against the wall, my cervical spine was as stiff as a cement pillar.

He leaned against the wall to stand up, his military overcoat slipping from his shoulders to his waist. He caught it and draped it over his arm. He twisted his neck to the left—snap. He twisted it to the right—another snap.

The corridor was full of people.

Cheng Zhiyuan, Liu Guoliang, Xiao Jingshan's wife and daughter, and the three generals' accompanying adjutants—everyone was there. Some had been sitting all night, while others had just come out of the adjacent lounge. But at this moment, no one remained seated.

Everyone stood up.

A dozen pairs of eyes were fixed on him.

Ignoring the stares, Li Yichen walked towards the ward door. His footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor, one after another.

Push the door open and go inside.

The silvery-white nanomedical chamber stood quietly in the center of the ward. The pulsating frequency of the blue and white light bands on the chamber walls was even slower than yesterday—so slow that it was almost imperceptible. A natural deceleration as the repair process neared its end.

Li Yichen walked to the front of the cabin and pressed his hand on the control panel.

The holographic data screen lights up.

Ling'er's voice was transmitted synchronously through an external speaker, her tone was three points lower than usual, and she was unusually serious.

"The entire repair process is now complete."

Hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor—everyone had rushed to the ward door, but no one dared to step inside. They stood blocking the doorway, craning their necks.

Ling'er continued reporting.

"Liver function - fully recovered, 100% regeneration rate."

"Kidney function - the filtration rate of both kidneys has returned to the level of a healthy adult."

"Lung function - 100% clearance rate of fibrotic tissue, and vital capacity restored to the excellent standard for the same age group."

"Residual metallic foreign objects in the body - all removed."

"Chronic inflammation markers - zeroed out."

……

"Comprehensive Assessment—"

She slowed her speech by half a degree.

"The patient's current physiological indicators are better than the average level of healthy people of the same age. Conservatively estimated, barring any major accidents, his natural lifespan could reach over one hundred years."

A deathly silence.

Four seconds.

Then a sob came from the doorway. It wasn't a suppressed sob, but rather one that had been held back for twenty-four hours and finally couldn't be contained anymore—Xiao Jingshan's wife covered her mouth, her knees buckling, and was supported by her daughter beside her.

Xiao Ying herself was trembling. Trembling violently. Tears weren't flowing, they were falling, one after another, onto the floor tiles.

Cheng Zhiyuan punched the wall in the corridor.

A dull thud. When he pulled his fist back, his knuckles were scraped, but he seemed oblivious, hanging his head and shrugging his shoulders a couple of times.

Liu Guoliang stood at the far end of the corridor with his back to everyone. His shoulders twitched noticeably twice. He quickly wiped his face with his sleeve. The movement was so fast that he thought no one was paying attention.

But Li Yichen caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye.

He didn't look a second time. He looked down and pressed the hatch opening button.

Hiss—the pressure valve is leaking air.

The hatch slid open upwards.

The smell of disinfectant mixed with trace amounts of ozone wafted out and lingered in the air for two seconds before being drawn away by the ventilation system.

Inside the cabin—Xiao Jingshan moved.

First, his hands. He clenched his ten fingers, then relaxed them. Then, bracing his elbows against the bulkhead lining, he slowly, inch by inch, sat up.

No one helped him.

Just over a month ago, the person needed a caregiver's help even to turn over, but now he can sit up on his own.

He looked down at his hands. His skin was still loose, and the age spots were still there. But that layer of ashen, decaying aura that seeped from his bones—was gone.

It was as if someone had peeled off a layer of old newspaper covering him.

His eyes lit up.

The two attending physicians practically pounced on them.

Old Zhou had all the equipment in his hands: stethoscope, blood pressure monitor, and pupillary pen. Young Chen followed behind, measuring blood oxygen and checking reflexes. The two worked together seamlessly, completing the entire physical examination process in a flash.

With each item checked, Lao Zhou's hands trembled a little more.

Finally, he put down the stethoscope.

Turning her head to look at Li Yichen leaning against the wall, her lips trembled several times.

One person blurted out, "This is not scientific."

It paused for another beat.

"But he really got better."

Li Yichen didn't reply. He stepped aside.

Because Xiao Jingshan's wife had already rushed in.

The old woman rushed to the edge of the bed and grabbed her husband's hands with both of hers. She couldn't speak; her mouth was open, and only breathy sounds could be heard. Tears streamed down her face as she repeatedly stroked the back of his thin, dry hands.

Xiao Jingshan raised his other hand and awkwardly patted his wife's back.

My throat felt rusty; every time I opened my mouth, it was all sand.

"Don't cry. I'm perfectly fine."

Xiao Ying stood at the foot of the bed, biting her lip, tears streaming down her face, not daring to utter a sound. She was afraid that if she made a sound, she would break down.

Li Yichen quietly retreated to a corner of the room.

The gazes of everyone present slowly began to turn to the silver-white nanomedical pod.

His eyes changed.

It's no longer just curiosity.

It is reverence.

A sense of awe, like "I just witnessed something impossible."

A patient who had been sentenced to death by seven academicians lay in this machine for 24 hours and was brought back to life.

Cheng Zhiyuan spoke first. His throat felt dry, as if he had a handful of shards of glass in his mouth.

"Xiao Li...this machine..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone could tell what he wanted to ask.

Liu Guoliang walked in from the door and took over the conversation. His voice was still a little tense, but much more steady than it had been ten seconds ago.

"This thing—the higher-ups are willing to pay for it. Name your price."

Li Yichen leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

He looked at Liu Guoliang, then glanced at Cheng Zhiyuan.

"What will you buy it for?"

It wasn't a tone of rejection. It was a genuine question.

Liu Guoliang and Xiao Jingshan, who was on the hospital bed, exchanged a glance.

Xiao Jingshan himself took the bait.

The old general's voice hadn't fully recovered; it was rough, like sandpaper scraping against railroad tracks. But every word was clear.

"Xiao Li, do you know... how many of those veterans still alive—those who carried guns, shed blood, and gave half their lives on the battlefield—are left?"

His gaze drifted to the window. The curtains were half-drawn, revealing a quiet pine forest outside.

"Not many left. Fewer each year."

The voice softened by half a degree.

"They've dedicated the first half of their lives to this country. If this machine... could let them see a few more years of peace and enjoy a few more years of happiness—"

He turned his gaze back to Li Yichen's face.

"That's worth more than anything else."

No one spoke in the room.

A scene suddenly flashed through Li Yichen's mind.

When I was little, in the courtyard, my grandfather sat in a wicker chair, his cloudy old eyes shining, telling me stories about my great-grandfather. The black-and-white photograph of my great-grandfather smiling in his military uniform was always tucked on the first page of my grandfather's photo album.

My great-grandfather did not come back alive.

Grandpa later donned that military uniform and went to the battlefield. Although he survived, the old wounds tormented him for the rest of his life. Whenever the weather changed, his legs would ache so much that he couldn't sleep all night.

Five seconds.

Li Yichen spoke up.

"Leave this machine here. No need to buy it."

Liu Guoliang's expression froze. "What?"

"It's free."

The sound wasn't loud. Every word was clear and distinct.

"Consider it my contribution to my great-grandfather—and to millions of others like him."

The entire ward fell silent.

Cheng Zhiyuan opened his mouth, then closed it again. His Adam's apple bobbed twice, but not a single word came out.

Liu Guoliang's facial muscles tensed and relaxed repeatedly, his expression like a spilled palette of colors.

Xiao Jingshan stared at Li Yichen for a long time.

Finally, the old general nodded slowly but solemnly.

"Guoshi."

His voice was hoarse, but as steady as a mountain.

"It is a blessing for the nation to have you, Great Xia."

Li Yichen waved his hand, his tone immediately softening.

"Alright, alright, stop flattering me." He took two steps toward the door, turned back and grinned at Xiao Jingshan, "I haven't been home for almost a month. If I don't go back soon, my little girl will paint my portrait and hang it on the wall."

The old general's lips twitched slightly on his sickbed—he almost couldn't hold back his laughter.

"Commander Xiao, take good care of yourself." Li Yichen gestured with his chin towards him, "Don't forget to treat me to a meal in a while. A nice restaurant, the kind you go to. Don't try to fool me with the military canteen."

"You little rascal—" Xiao Jingshan laughed hoarsely, then coughed twice before his wife quickly patted his back.

Li Yichen turned and walked out.

As she passed Xiao Ying, she bent down and bowed deeply. She didn't straighten up for a long time.

The old woman clutched the tissue, her voice breaking into fragments: "Child... thank you."

Li Yichen didn't stop. He merely raised his hand slightly—

You're welcome.

-

Rooftop helipad.

The wind was three or four levels stronger than downstairs, making the military overcoat flutter loudly. Li Yichen then remembered that Liu Guoliang's overcoat was still draped over his shoulder, and handed it back to him.

Liu Guoliang took it, but didn't put it on; he just held it in the crook of his arm.

The helicopter rotors had already started spinning, and the airflow was making a mess of the two men's hair.

"Brother!" Liu Guoliang shouted at the top of his lungs, drowning out the roar of the rotor blades.

Li Yichen turned his head to look at him.

"I will remember this favor."

Li Yichen smiled and said, "Brother Liu, you're too kind. Don't mention favors or anything like that. It's just what I should do."

He waved to Liu Guoliang, indicating that Liu Guoliang should not see him off, then turned around, bent down, and stepped into the cabin.

The hatch closed.

The helicopter took off, its nose turned, and it hurtled towards the southeast.

The cabin finally quieted down. The soundproofing layer had reduced the rotor noise to almost nothing, leaving only a faint, low-frequency hum.

The helicopter flew through the twilight towards the direction with the densest lights.