Volume One, Chapter Three: A Windfall from the Heavens

Chen Hao truly regretted his earlier decisions. He had been the one paying off the mortgage all along, yet the Zhao family refused to put his name on the property deed—and he had agreed to it.

“You leeches,” Chen Hao muttered, “I’m really at my wit’s end with you. But let me make one thing clear: this mortgage is for twenty years. I’ve only paid for one year. The remaining nineteen years? You can pay them yourselves.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the Zhao residence.

It took the Zhao family a while to recover from the shock.

Wang Su was the first to speak. “Yali, has that bastard lost his mind?”

“He’s not crazy,” Zhao Yali gave a bitter smile. “He’s simply reached his limit, completely enraged. What we owe him goes far beyond this.”

Zhao Haizhou was baffled. “Sis, how did this idiot suddenly become so terrifying? Wasn’t he just a fool? How did he get so strong all of a sudden?”

Zhao Liya knew nothing of the severity; she was still nursing the burning pain on half her face.

Outside, Chen Hao felt utterly drained and lost.

The woman he had pined for over three years had long been with another—Young Master Zhou—while he was nothing but the greenhorn standing on the vast grassland.

His proud job was gone; now, everything had to start over.

The woman who had loved him most, his foster mother, had passed away. From then on, he was just an orphan—a child without a mother, fragile as a blade of grass. He felt he was the most pitiful man alive.

Yet, despite it all, a faint warmth lingered in his heart. He recalled his foster mother’s teachings, words about resilience and forgiveness. Gradually, the emptiness inside him began to fade.

Especially the words of that strange white-bearded old man: from now on, he must become a true man.

Teaching those Zhao family members, who had tormented him for three years, a lesson felt exhilarating. Even the arrogant Young Master Zhou was kicked twice and dared not retaliate—it was truly satisfying.

Chen Hao believed that saying: “Kindness invites cruelty, and a gentle horse is ridden hard.” Facing villains, tolerance and retreat only embolden them further.

From this moment on, Chen Hao resolved to change—never to be bullied again. He would straighten his spine and become a true man.

He reached down to touch himself—still intact, seemingly even more vigorous. This was his source of confidence: he was a man with two balls.

Talking to himself, he said, “Old man, watch if I pee standing up—I will definitely become a real man.”

Suddenly, he remembered the injury on his forehead. But strangely, he felt no pain. Wiping away the blood with a tissue and touching the spot, there was no wound, no pain—how odd.

“Creak—”

A luxury car came to a stop right in front of Chen Hao, startling him.

The rear window slowly rolled down, and a middle-aged man spoke to Chen Hao: “Get in.”

Chen Hao thought he must have misheard. He glanced at the man again, certain he didn’t know him.

Pointing to himself, he asked, “Sir, are you talking to me?”

The man said, “Is there anyone else here besides you? Get in.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Chen Hao opened the door and got inside. Barefoot against shoes—he had nothing left to lose, nothing left to fear.

Inside, the atmosphere was calm and elegant. The middle-aged man moved aside to make room. “Sit, make yourself comfortable.”

His tone was gentle yet commanding.

Once seated, the man told the driver, “Drive.”

The car moved forward in silence; no one spoke.

Eventually, it stopped in a secluded place.

The man pulled out a bank card and handed it to Chen Hao.

Chen Hao took it—a sleek black card adorned with golden patterns and emblems.

Holding it, he asked, “Is this a VIP card for a foot massage parlor or something...?”

“This is a bank card,” the man interrupted. “There’s 100 billion inside. The password is six zeros.”

Chen Hao was stunned, speechless. He stared at the heavy card in his hand, overwhelmed. “Is this... real? You’re not joking, are you?”

The man smiled faintly, his tone firm and unwavering. “It’s real. You have no reason to doubt. This 100 billion is yours.”

Chen Hao’s mind nearly froze. He had never imagined being connected to such vast wealth. A stranger offering him 100 billion? Even the tales of Arabian Nights couldn’t match this.

The man spoke again: “This isn’t charity. It’s a test. The money isn’t free—you must meet conditions.”

“Nothing in life is free,” Chen Hao replied. “This money’s hot. You’re not asking me to commit crimes, are you? I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

The man shook his head with a smile. “You think too much. My conditions are legal and reasonable.”

Curious, Chen Hao asked, “What are your conditions?”

“You must spend all 100 billion within three months. If you succeed, I’ll give you another 100 billion. If you fail, you owe me 200 billion.”

Chen Hao laughed uncontrollably. “Spending money isn’t hard. Don’t worry—I’ll burn through this 100 billion in three months.”

The man shook his head again, then said, “Let me be clear: first, every penny must be spent by you personally; no one else can spend on your behalf. Second, you cannot destroy the money—you must genuinely spend it.”

Chen Hao asked, “Just to be sure, I can spend it however I want, as long as it’s me spending it?”

“That’s right,” the man confirmed.

Chen Hao felt as if he was dreaming. He pinched himself hard—it hurt. It was real.

“May I ask why you’re doing this to a complete stranger like me?”

“Wait until the three months are up. Then, you will understand everything.”

The man’s unwavering gaze deepened Chen Hao’s curiosity. Yet, he knew he had no choice but to comply.

Alone and with nothing left to lose, he might as well give it a try.

After getting out of the car, Chen Hao stood on the roadside, still dazed. He stared at the bank card, as if trying to verify its authenticity.

Could this be true fortune at last? The old white-bearded man had said that when luck arrives, even heaven cannot stop it.

Watching the luxurious Maybach drive away, Chen Hao smiled bitterly—it all felt like a dream.

Just as he was about to leave, his phone rang. The number was unfamiliar but local.

He answered.

“Young master, this is Li Qicheng, branch manager of Dijin Bank’s Jingzhou branch. Please come to the bank.”

Chen Hao was baffled. When had he become a “young master”? Dijin Bank was the top bank in Daxia, and even a branch manager was a financial titan in Jingzhou.

“Manager, you must have dialed the wrong number. I’m not a young master—I’m just an orphan.”

Li Qicheng responded warmly, “Mr. Chen, I did not dial incorrectly. You are the holder of a 100 billion deposit. I need to meet with you personally. Please come to Dijin Bank’s Jingzhou branch. I’ll be waiting.”

Chen Hao stood there, stunned.