Su Ying didn’t make a fuss or hesitate; she simply accepted the money.
Although she was extremely dissatisfied with the flat and the neighbourhood, she would genuinely be evicted by the landlord if she didn’t pay the rent.
Su Ying wiped away her tears, then dabbed the tears from her mobile screen, and replied between sobs: ‘Thank you, Senior Brother. I’ll pay you back as soon as I find a job.’
[Senior Brother: No problem, don’t worry. If you’re ever in a tight spot, just let me know.]
As soon as she received the money, Su Ying transferred 1,600 to the landlord. With that major task out of the way, she felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she stared blankly at the game’s login screen on her computer.
The 5,000 yuan from her senior had temporarily solved her immediate financial crisis. With roughly 4,000 yuan left in her pocket, and by tightening her belt a little more in line with her usual lifestyle, she could easily make it last three or four months—or even five, if she really had to.
But what about a job? What would happen when her rent was due in three months’ time?
Su Ying seemed unable to see a way forward.
There were plenty of college graduates like her in Spring City. Two years ago, she’d still been able to find a relatively decent receptionist job, but now, with the number of graduates increasing year on year and the economy in decline, even arts graduates were struggling to find work. Where was she supposed to go from here?
Was she really going to end up shaking milk tea?
It wasn’t that she looked down on the job, but if she had a choice, she’d much rather sit in a comfortable office.
Su Ying’s mind began to wander uncontrollably; she even pictured herself working at a bubble tea shop, being complained about by customers for making a mistake, being told off by the manager, and having her pay docked—as if she were experiencing it all first-hand.
She was mired in this self-pity until a loud ‘gurgle’ sounded.
Su Ying glanced at her phone; it was already two o’clock in the afternoon. She hadn’t had a single sip of water since the incident at the office.
Su Ying swallowed hard and decided to fill her stomach first.
She rode her electric scooter out the door. Outside, it had started to sleet at some point, and the biting wind that swept in instantly sobered her up.
What had happened had happened; there was no point in dwelling on it.
There was no need to worry about what would happen in two hours’ time, eight kilometres away.
It would be better to do as her senior colleague had suggested: treat it as an early start to the New Year holidays and look for a proper job after the festivities.
With that thought, Su Ying breathed a sigh of relief and rode her electric scooter straight to Wanda.
The weather was simply too cold; she really didn’t want to go out unless absolutely necessary. With that in mind, she’d stocked up on groceries for nearly a week.
As she left the supermarket, she spotted the lottery outlet with the ‘Winner’s Banner’ hanging outside again. Su Ying hesitated for a moment but walked over anyway. It was only when her hand touched the ticket machine that she suddenly remembered she hadn’t checked the tickets she’d bought a few days ago to see if she’d won.
She dug out the photo of the ticket she’d taken at the time from her photo album and searched for the latest winning numbers in her mobile browser.
Swiping between screens, she looked at the album on one side and the browser on the other, muttering to herself: “03, 09, 32…”
After reciting the last number, she looked up in disbelief, rubbed her eyes, and murmured: “ ‘Am I hallucinating?’
She blinked a few times, glanced around, turned off her phone, and carefully slipped it into her top pocket.
Carrying her shopping bag, she’d intended to walk to the toilet with a composed air, but as she walked, she ended up practically sprinting towards it.
Su Ying locked the cubicle door as if she were a thief; her heart was pounding, and a cold sweat began to break out on her forehead.
Only then did Su Ying realise that her hands had been shaking like a sieve all along.
She fumbled for her mobile and checked the numbers again.
Unable to believe it, she checked them once more.
Not a single digit was wrong.
She’d won the first prize in the Double Colour Lottery—a single ticket worth 6.3 million!
After deducting 20% tax, she’d have a cool 5 million in her pocket!
5 million!
She’d won five million!!!
“Ah!!!” A shriek pierced the silence of the toilet. The cleaning lady rushed in and shouted, “What’s the matter? What’s happened?”
Su Ying, inside the cubicle, clamped her hand firmly over her mouth to stop herself from making any further sound.
Su Ying stayed in the cubicle for a while, and only after making sure no one was waiting outside did she slowly emerge from the toilet.
She had never been as calm as she was now; after coming out, she even washed her hands thoroughly following the seven-step handwashing method and dried them carefully.
On the way home, she rode her electric scooter as slowly as possible. At traffic lights, she didn’t turn left but obediently went straight twice; she didn’t even ride across the zebra crossing when the lights were green, but stayed on the cycle lane.
Su Ying wanted to be as careful as possible, to avoid doing anything at this critical moment that might turn joy into sorrow.
By the time she had returned to her rented flat with the utmost caution, it was already five o’clock in the afternoon.
The flat was quiet, with only the occasional faint snore drifting from Aunt Lin’s bedroom.
Aunt Lin was asleep, and her daughter hadn’t come home from school yet.
Su Ying went back to her room, dug out the lottery ticket from the drawer under her desk, and checked it over carefully once more.
She had won five million. It was true.
Perhaps the initial excitement had worn off; Su Ying had now calmed down.
She put the ticket back in the drawer, took out her mobile phone and began scrolling through her bookmarks for ‘How to Claim a Lottery Jackpot’.
Perhaps due to the app’s recommendation algorithm, she was immediately flooded with posts on how to claim lottery winnings and vlogs about the blissful life after winning. She became engrossed in them, scrolling for a full two hours.
It wasn’t until a wave of hunger washed over her that she realised this was no longer mere hunger—it bordered on pain.
Su Ying slapped her forehead and glanced at the shopping bag on the floor. She’d gone out to buy ingredients to cook, yet here they were, untouched.
But she had no intention of dealing with that hassle now; today, she planned to treat herself and order takeaway!
Su Ying first claimed her red packets from the ‘Coupon Generator’ and the ‘Deals Group’ before opening the food delivery app, where she browsed and selected a spicy hotpot restaurant.
Although there didn’t seem to be much difference between spicy hotpot and spicy hotpot stew, for some reason, Su Ying could never quite replicate the restaurant’s flavour when she made it at home.
Whether ordering in or eating out, she always makes sure to choose dishes she finds difficult to prepare herself.
After applying the voucher, the final cost came to 15.80 yuan. Su Ying felt a slight twinge of regret—that could have bought over a pound of pork belly, enough for two batches of braised pork or stewed meat, providing four whole meals!
But she quickly reassured herself: as a woman holding a five-million-yuan lottery ticket, she shouldn’t be worrying about such a small sum.
In the time it took to watch a few videos, the takeaway arrived.
Instead of taking the takeaway back to her room, Su Ying sat down at the dining table and opened the box. Instantly, the distinctive aroma of spicy hotpot wafted towards her. Sprinkled with coriander and sesame seeds, and mingled with the scent of spices, it made her stomach rumble with hunger.
Su Ying had barely snapped open the disposable chopsticks that came with the takeaway when she heard Aunt Lin’s voice.
“Young people these days really know how to live it up, don’t they? It’s either takeaway or eating out every single day.”
Su Ying frowned at her. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d ordered takeaway—it must have been months ago. The first thing she did every day when she got home was head straight to the kitchen to cook. Where on earth had Aunt Lin got that idea from?
“Auntie Lin,” Su Ying explained in a calm, polite tone, “I just didn’t feel like cooking, so I ordered some takeaway. It’s not exactly a capital offence, is it?”
Auntie Lin pursed her lips. “Young ladies these days are so sharp-tongued. I certainly wouldn’t want a woman like that as my daughter-in-law.”
In the past, Su Ying would have simply swallowed her pride at this point, retreating to her room with her takeaway, cursing Aunt Lin’s ancestors eighteen generations back in her mind, before quietly wiping away her tears.
But for some reason, Su Ying didn’t choose to run away this time. Instead, she pressed on: “That’s a bit rich, Auntie Lin. You haven’t even managed to secure custody of your son—how can you possibly decide what sort of wife he should marry?”
Auntie Lin’s face went pale at the sound of this. She pointed a finger at Su Ying, stammering “You… you… you…” for a long moment, unable to get a single word out, before turning and storming off to her own room.
Su Ying gave a scoff and buried her head in her meal.
When Su Ying first started sharing the flat with Aunt Lin, Aunt Lin would often complain to her about her ex-husband—how he’d cheated on her, been violent, and refused to pay her any money. She’d struggled alone to raise two children, working herself to the bone until her hair had turned white at such a young age. At that time, Su Ying had felt quite sympathetic towards her. However, as they chatted more and more, she learnt that Aunt Lin had been fighting her ex-husband for custody of their son. Unfortunately, the boy—who must have been fed some sort of mind-altering potion by his father—insisted on staying with him, leaving Aunt Lin to take in the daughter her ex-husband had dumped on her.
Once she heard Aunt Lin describe her daughter as a ‘burden’ dumped on her by her ex-husband, she could no longer bear to listen to any of Aunt Lin’s complaints.
Su Ying’s hand paused mid-bite. Her eyes swept over the cluttered mess in the living room. Although the communal area was meant to be shared, it had effectively become Aunt Lin’s private domain; she even had to put up with snide remarks whenever she ate in the dining room.
Once she’d claimed her prize, she’d move out immediately, rent a whole flat on her own in a nice neighbourhood with good facilities, and never share a flat with anyone again!
No!
She was going to buy a flat of her very own!
With this in mind, Su Ying finished her meal and went straight back to her room to start making arrangements to claim her prize.
Her prize this time exceeded five million yuan; the lottery centre in Chuncheng couldn’t process it, so she’d have to go to the provincial capital.
Su Ying had never been to the provincial capital, nor had she ever travelled far from home; she planned to spend a few days sightseeing whilst she was there to claim her prize.
The only problem was her wardrobe; she didn’t have a single presentable outfit.
Su Ying rummaged through every item in her wardrobe. She didn’t have many clothes to begin with; most were cheap items bought on Pinduoduo during her university days, exuding a childish and cheap vibe.
She scrolled back and forth through winter outfits on popular shopping apps, feeling overwhelmed. After finally spotting a few outfits she fancied, she clicked on the shop only to find they were on a 30-day pre-order.
Damn it!
In the end, Su Ying picked out a black long down jacket rumoured to be incredibly warm and nicknamed ‘the art student’s go-to’. Although it was a bit pricey at over 500 yuan, the fill weight of nearly 300g put her mind at ease—at least she wouldn’t be cold.
She’d had more than enough of that cotton coat that was neither warm nor particularly bulky.
Su Ying had made up her mind: as soon as the down jacket arrived, she would buy a ticket to the provincial capital!
After all, there were several high-speed trains to the provincial capital every day; even if there weren’t any that day, it didn’t matter—she could always wait a few more days.
The lottery redemption period was a full 60 days, after all!
She took out the ticket and looked at it again and again, running her fingers over it, reluctant to part with it.
Just as she was about to put it back in the drawer, her hand paused. She glanced nervously at the tightly closed door and carefully slipped the ticket into the gap between the wallpaper and the wall.
Su Ying looked at her handiwork with satisfaction and drifted off to sleep, her mind at ease.