“What? You can make money just by playing games?”

“No way, you’re telling me I just have to share this, and I get a hundred bucks?”

“Might as well try it—it’s just a few taps on my phone…”

The crowd buzzed with excitement. As long as there was profit to be made, someone was bound to take the bait.

He Qiang was stunned. He tugged on Xu Musen’s sleeve and whispered, “Bro, what are you even doing? We haven’t made a dime yet, and you’re already throwing money out the window?”

Xu Musen shot him a reassuring look.

This scheme—this was none other than the legendary Pinduoduo Red Packet Model from his past life.

A once third-rate e-commerce platform had used this exact method to skyrocket its valuation, overtaking both Taobao and JD.com, the long-reigning giants of the industry.

It was a formula that had perfectly grasped both the financial realities and the psychological tendencies of the average person.

In this era, most people earned just two or three thousand yuan a month. A hundred yuan? That was a whole day’s wages—not a small temptation.

For every new user he brought in, Xu Musen earned two yuan from the platform. Simple math—he was making a profit no matter what.

He wasn’t just making a game. He was selling it.

And this mouth of his? Besides mooching off women, it had never let him suffer a loss.

A few little trinkets might not catch people’s attention, but real cash? Even middle-aged folks who had never touched a game before were now jumping in.

Watching the numbers in his backend skyrocket, Xu Musen couldn’t stop grinning.

No wonder those livestream salespeople from his past life called their viewers “family” so affectionately.

This—this was just harvesting fresh crops of willing fools.

—

An hour later, the free gifts were gone, and they were ready to pack up.

Xu Musen checked his earnings: over 500 new users today, and the number was still climbing.

That meant just from referral bonuses, he had made a cool thousand or two today.

For a student, that was a lot of money.

But for Xu Musen?

This was just an appetizer before the feast.

“You’re still smiling?” He Qiang gave him a look. “You basically gave away your entire stash of private money today.”

Xu Musen patted his shoulder and showed him the backend data.

He Qiang stared at the screen for a long while, then suddenly grabbed Xu Musen’s nose, then his ears, then his arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” Xu Musen shivered at the almost romantic gesture.

“I just—bro—are you really Xu Musen? You feel like you got swapped out by aliens or something.”

He Qiang looked at him like he was seeing a ghost.

The old Xu Musen had one thing on his mind—Yao Mingyue.

Ever since his failed confession, though… he was like a whole new person.

Xu Musen let out a long sigh. He wasn’t wrong.

Because the Xu Musen standing here today was Version 2.0—completely upgraded.

“Relax,” he said, clapping He Qiang’s shoulder. “No matter what changes, I’m still your bro.”

He paused, then added with a smile, “A real brother is the one who pulls you up when you’re down.”

He Qiang grinned, “And the one who—?”

“That’s a wife.”

“…?”

Just as they were shoulder to shoulder, pondering the deep truths of life—

A soft, clear voice drifted from behind them.

“Do you… want a flower?”

They turned around.

There, sitting in a wheelchair, was a delicate-looking girl, around seventeen or eighteen.

She wore a simple white dress, her long, raven-black hair cascading loosely over her face, hiding most of her features.

But peeking through the strands—her skin was porcelain pale, and she had a pair of beautiful, slightly unfocused peach blossom eyes.

She held a bundle of roses in her arms, extending one toward them.

It was only then that Xu Musen noticed—she was in a wheelchair.

The summer breeze stirred, brushing against her slender, pale ankles.

“You talking to us?”

He Qiang eyed the rose in her hand—a symbol of love—and hesitated.

She nodded. “Mm. Aren’t you two dating? I’ve seen people like you before…”

Her gaze drifted to their arms still draped around each other’s shoulders, her expression utterly matter-of-fact.

Her accent had a slight Sichuanese lilt.

Xu Musen and He Qiang exchanged looks.

They’d been so caught up in celebrating, their poses did look kind of—.

“…”

Damn.

They shoved each other away like they’d been electrocuted.

“He Qiang, bro, how are you this dark and still getting mistaken for a—”

“Xu Musen, you’re one to talk! With that soft skin and no masculinity whatsoever—”

They argued, throwing the blame back and forth—completely missing how, when the girl heard the name Xu Musen, her eyes lit up slightly.

She studied him through her curtain of hair, then suddenly rolled her wheelchair closer—so close he could smell the faint scent of flowers on her.

She tilted her head up, finally getting a clear look at his face.

“So it’s you.”

Xu Musen and He Qiang both froze.

“You… know me?”

Xu Musen had no memory of her.

But as he glanced at the wrapping on her bouquet…

Wait a second—

Wasn’t that from his mom’s flower shop?

No.

That was the exact bouquet he’d thrown away the other day.

“Your flowers—”

“I picked them up!”

Her voice turned guarded—like she thought he was about to snatch them away.

“I know you did, but I threw them away.”

“You threw them away. I picked them up. That makes them mine now.”

She said it so seriously, like she was debating territorial sovereignty.

Then she muttered under her breath, “You throw them away every week anyway…”

Xu Musen raised an eyebrow.

So every week, this girl had been waiting to pick up his discarded flowers?

He sized her up again.

Long, silky hair. Soft, clear eyes. Delicate features.

A simple white dress, a slightly worn wheelchair.

She was probably selling these flowers to make a living.

At an age when most kids were out having fun,

One of them was selling roses.
The other was hustling a side business.

Xu Musen chuckled.

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to take your flowers.” He smirked. “But I should warn you—you won’t be finding any more of mine.”

“Why?”

She blinked up at him.

“Because I won’t be confessing to her again.”

“Oh…”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Such a shame.”

Xu Musen shrugged. “Nothing to be sad about. Letting go is sometimes the best choice.”

But she simply tilted her head, eyes still clear as water.

“I’m not sad for you.”

She sighed.

“I’m sad because it means I won’t have any more flowers to pick up.”

Xu Musen: “…”

People’s joys and sorrows were indeed not the same.

He just felt like cursing.

“So…?”

The girl’s expression remained earnest.

She stared at him through her dark lashes and said,

“So you not confessing anymore is going to hurt my business.”

At that moment, the summer wind stirred, lifting her hair.

For the first time, her entire face was revealed to him.

She was… breathtaking.

Easily on par with Yao Mingyue.

But unlike that cold-hearted beauty, this girl—

With her serious, oblivious expression—

Felt like a breath of fresh air.

And at that moment—

Xu Musen thought:

Maybe this second chance at life…

Was about to get interesting.