In his previous life,
Wei Yi had come to understand something:
Sometimes, menstruation was what kept a man alive.
Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to blame Chen Xinyi entirely. When it came to ending up flat on his back, Wei Yi himself had to take at least thirty percent of the blame.
Back then, as he grew weaker by the day, Chen Xinyi had tried all sorts of remedies. Ginseng and black-bone chicken soup, pigeon stewed with velvet antler, seahorses soaked in liquor—she’d pour one concoction after another down his throat.
The goji berries in his thermos were even more densely packed than those steeped by other people in their forties.
Every now and then, she’d also take pity on him. She’d bring her group of friends along, shut the door, and let them have their fun among themselves.
By rights, Wei Yi should have been relieved that they were doing this.
But he wasn’t.
Seeing that those women no longer needed him only made him feel worse.
A man’s pride could be a real hazard sometimes.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to rise to the occasion.
And the result?
Well, it proved one thing: bragging really could get you killed.
That said, something minor had happened a month before he died.
He’d gotten off work early that day and wandered over to Chaoyang Park, where he ran into an old man practicing tai chi.
The old man wore a white robe, and his beard was longer than Wei Yi’s hair. When he stood still, he looked as if he’d stepped straight out of a period drama.
At the time, Wei Yi’s condition was, to put it bluntly, a thirty-year-old face with a sixty-year-old back.
He carried his thermos everywhere, and even walking a little faster left him panting.
The old man glanced at him, smiled, and beckoned.
“Young man, come here.”
“Me?”
“Do you see anyone else around?”
The old man said his form was an authentic internal martial art called Nourishing Qi and Strengthening the Foundation. Master it, and it could make you feel like a different person.
Wei Yi had thought, Here’s another old con artist. The Capital doesn’t produce much else, just old men like this.
But the old man didn’t waste words. He immediately assumed the stance and performed the routine.
His movements were slow, yet faint sounds of wind and thunder seemed to accompany them.
Skeptical but curious, Wei Yi followed along and practiced for a month.
And, to be fair, his back stopped aching, his legs stopped wobbling, and he even seemed to glide when he walked.
Back when he was in his twenties, he could manage five rounds when going head-to-head with Chen Xinyi. By the time he hit thirty, two rounds were already a struggle.
After practicing this form, he somehow regained the vigor of his prime. Sometimes, he could even get the better of her.
Wei Yi was the sort of person who got carried away as soon as he started feeling pleased with himself.
One night, with Chen Xinyi panting in his arms, he let something slip:
“Sis, I think I could take on ten people now.”
Chen Xinyi’s peach-blossom eyes blinked.
“You sure?”
“Absolutely!”
Three days later, on the weekend,
Wei Yi pushed open the front door.
Chen Xinyi was sitting on the living room sofa, with four other women beside her—all friends of hers.
None of the kids were home. When he asked, he found out that Li Hongjuan, their maternal and paternal grandmother, had taken them.
Chen Xinyi crossed her legs and said with a smile:
“Ten might be too much for you. Let’s try five first.”
Wei Yi stood in the entryway without even taking off his shoes.
I’ll spare you the rest.
So really, you shouldn’t go around bragging.
After hanging up on Chen Xinyi, he chatted with his parents for a while, then locked himself in his room.
He stood still and closed his eyes.
Every movement of that form surfaced clearly in his mind.
The opening stance.
Grasp the Sparrow's Tail.
Single Whip.
Raise Hands and Step Forward.
He followed his muscle memory, moving from one technique to the next. On the third pass, a wave of heat rose from his lower abdomen, surged up his back, and flowed warmly through his limbs.
That surging energy was exactly why he’d dared to challenge the Great Demon King dungeon back then!
Wei Yi settled back into his stance and let out a long breath.
He’d actually brought it back with him.
He sat down by the bed and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Then, something suddenly clicked.
The martial art had been fine in his previous life.
He was the problem.
He’d practiced for barely thirty days and already dared to solo the Great Demon King.
And as if soloing it weren’t enough, he’d taken on five at once.
A level-ten character with basic gear, charging into a level-120 epic raid.
No wonder he’d died.
Wei Yi slapped his thigh.
This time, he needed to learn from his mistakes.
Keep his head down early on.
Focus on leveling up.
Get his gear in order and his stats maxed out before even considering taking on a boss.
For now, he needed to make money.
The lesson he’d learned the hard way in his previous life boiled down to one thing: when a man had no money in his pocket, even his words lacked conviction.
Chen Xinyi had supported him in college, and after graduation too. Once he started working, his salary didn’t amount to a fraction of hers. He ate her food and drank her drinks, so naturally, she called the shots in bed as well.
Wei Yi flipped open his old Lenovo, connected to the internet, and searched for “2014 Brazil World Cup schedule.”
The schedule appeared in no time, all sixty-four matches crammed across the screen.
He stared at the table and studied it carefully.
This World Cup— he could recite it with his eyes closed.
He’d always been a die-hard soccer fan, and in his previous life, this World Cup had come right after his Gaokao.
After moving to the Capital, he’d spent the entire summer in front of the TV, watching most of the matches.
Especially the most exciting ones: which games had upsets, which had ended in massacres, who’d lifted the trophy, and who’d won the Golden Boot—all of it was etched into his mind.
Spain one, Netherlands five—the defending champions were crushed.
Germany seven, Brazil one—the hosts were thoroughly humiliated on their home turf.
At this point, he was the only person in the world who knew all this.
Wei Yi took out his phone and calculated how much money he had.
His total came to 5,200 yuan: New Year’s money he’d saved, allowance from his mother that he hadn’t spent, and what he’d managed to save from the money his older sister gave him.
Among high school graduates fresh out of school in a county town, that would make him comfortably well-off, maybe even rich. But in the illegal betting market, it wouldn’t even make a splash.
He wasn’t trying to get rich overnight.
The lessons from his previous life were still fresh: bite off more than you can chew, and you’ll end up dead in an ugly way. That went for the bedroom as much as the betting table.
Wei Yi jotted down a rough plan in his notebook.
First round: split 5,000 yuan into five bets of 1,000 each, targeting matches that were all but certain. If the first round paid off, roll the winnings and the original stake into the next round. Don’t get greedy; play it safe.
He knew about freak scores like Germany beating Brazil seven to one, but he couldn’t bet everything on them. The odds were too outrageous, and he’d draw attention. If someone started watching him, he wouldn’t be able to explain himself.
Make money quietly, a little at a time.
At six thirty that evening, Li Hongjuan called from downstairs to say dinner was ready.
Wei Yi shut his laptop and went down. The table held four dishes and a soup: red-braised ribs, steamed sea bass, garlic greens, smashed cucumber, and a large bowl of winter melon and pork rib soup in the middle.
Li Hongjuan piled food into his bowl until it was like a little mountain. “When you get to Yanjing, listen to your older sister. She’s a bit quick-tempered, but she loves you more than anyone.”
“I know, Mom.”
Chen Kaide sat across from him, still in his police uniform, the new insignia on his shoulder gleaming. “Study hard at university. Don’t cause trouble for your sister.”
His adoptive father scolded him just like he would his own son, and loved him just as much.
“Chen, that’s enough,” Li Hongjuan said, shooting him a look.
Chen Kaide cleared his throat and added, “Anyway… just listen to your sister’s arrangements.”
“Mm-hmm!” Wei Yi bent over his rice, replying with a string of “mm-hmms.”
Halfway through the meal, Li Hongjuan put down her chopsticks and grabbed two large bags from beside the sofa.
“Your favorite salted scad, dried radish, dried shrimp, and two bottles of garlic chili sauce. Put them in the fridge when you get to Yanjing. If you want some, ask your sister to cook for you.”
“Mom, Yanjing has everything.”
“Does anything outside taste as good as food from home? Take them.”
Wei Yi took the bags. They were heavy, and his nose stung.
It had been the same in his previous life. Every time he left home, his mother practically tried to pack half the house into his luggage.
After dinner, he went back to his room, and his phone vibrated.
A WeChat message from Chen Xinyi: “I’ve booked your ticket for tomorrow. Ten thirty.”
“Okay.”
As soon as he sent the reply, a bank text came in: 10,000 yuan had been deposited.
Then Chen Xinyi sent another message: “Spending money. Don’t worry about saving it. See you at the airport tomorrow.”
Wei Yi stared at the string of digits, unable to say what he felt.
For a girl who was still studying, 10,000 yuan was no small sum.
Even though she had opened three shops, she probably wasn’t wealthy enough at this point to casually hand over 10,000 yuan.
His older sister was truly willing to invest in him.
She really did love him and treat him well.
So well that she’d loved him to death in his previous life.
He tossed his phone aside and sprawled on the bed.
The next day, the sun was up in Guangdong Province before six.
Wei Yi left with a backpack, two large bags, and a suitcase.
Li Hongjuan was busy at the hospital and couldn’t see him off, so Chen Kaide drove him to the county bus station, where a coach went straight to Pengcheng Airport.
“Call when you get there.”
“Mm.”
“Study hard. Don’t just think about having fun.”
“I know.”
Chen Kaide patted his shoulder, opened his mouth, then finally said only, “Go on. Be careful. Listen to your sister.”
After changing from one bus to another, the journey took a little over two hours, and he finally arrived at Pengcheng Airport.
He collected his ticket, passed security, and found a window seat in the departure lounge. Outside, planes took off and landed on the runway.
Yanjing.
The Capital.
He was about to go there.
In his previous life, he’d lived in Yanjing for twelve years.
He’d studied, taken the civil service examination, married, and died.
The city had given him everything.
And taken everything away.
Wei Yi leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
His thoughts were a mess.
He knew exactly what going to Yanjing meant.
That beautiful man-eating tiger, who left nothing behind, was waiting for him in Yanjing.
But he couldn’t escape her.
Chen Xinyi always kept her word.
If he dared not go, that woman really would fly back and tie him to a plane.
Besides, he really did need Yanjing.
He needed that stage.
He needed to grow stronger in that city, quietly, right under his older sister’s nose.
Strong enough that women couldn’t ride roughshod over him anymore.
Strong enough to take control of his own fate.
The announcement sounded.
Boarding was beginning.
Wei Yi stood, brushed off his trousers, and headed for the gate.
As the plane soared into the clouds, he looked through the window at the city growing smaller below.
He silently said to himself:
In this life, he couldn’t die because of a woman again.
Probably.
Probably not, right?