"I'll pay with a QR scan."
Wendao quickly lifted his phone, pretending he had been planning this all along. His thumb slid across the screen with practiced ease—thankfully, the system had deposited 900 RMB into his account earlier, and the phone's payment app automatically converted it into credits.
No terrifying coins.
No panic.
No accidental ten-million-credit bomb dropping on the counter.
Just a normal, harmless QR code.
A soft electronic chime played as the payment went through.
"Here you go. Sorry for the inconvenience," he said with a gentle smile.
The girl visibly exhaled, shoulders relaxing fully for the first time since the coin ordeal. She tapped a few buttons on her computer, her expression returning to calm professionalism, though traces of lingering tension still flickered in her gaze.
"Thank you for understanding," she replied, bowing her head politely.
But even as she handed him the receipt, a subtle curiosity sparked in her eyes.
Because normal students… normal customers… normal anyone… did not casually carry around RMB coins like they were pocket change.
RMB—real, physical yuan—was something closer to a status symbol than actual money nowadays. Only people with strong financial backgrounds or ties to high-level establishments ever touched them.
And this young man had just plucked one out of his pocket casually, like it was lint.
'Is he a hidden rich guy?'
The thought flashed across her mind instinctively.
She tried to remain composed, but her eyes betrayed a faint, questioning sparkle. The way he had apologised politely, the way he had switched to QR without fuss, the faint confidence in his tone—it all seemed to hint that he was not ordinary.
Wendao, meanwhile, had zero idea what was going through her mind. He only knew that the moment he put that coin back into his pocket, the crushing atmosphere around the counter seemed to disperse like mist.
As he tucked away his phone, he glanced briefly at the girl. She was smiling again—soft, friendly, and more respectful than before, an unspoken shift in her attitude.
A small shift caused by one tiny coin worth a ridiculous ten million credits.
"Say! Can I get your link ID? I want to apologize properly by treating you to some food—if that's alright."
Wendao kept his tone casual, but his heart thumped with the confidence of a man who suddenly realized he had the equivalent of multiple small nations in his pocket. The moment the thought came to him, he almost laughed. This was the perfect chance to test whether cash truly had magnetic power in real life.
The girl blinked.
"Eh!"
Her reaction was so cute and unguarded that a few customers nearby glanced over. She stood there frozen for a second, stunned that this thin, quiet boy—who normally would blend into the background—had suddenly asked her so directly.
"Uh… sure."
Her voice softened at the end, almost melting into a whisper.
A light blush spread across her cheeks as she lowered her gaze. It wasn't a refusal. It wasn't even hesitation.
It was instinctive acceptance.
Chen Yuning—her name tag read—fumbled with her phone for a moment before pulling up her contact interface. She tapped open her LinkedIn ID, the social platform everyone here used for messaging, payment splitting, and sharing location.
She held it out with both hands.
Wendao scanned it quickly, trying not to look overly triumphant. But inside, he was celebrating like he had just cleared a boss fight.
"So… you'll be free in about an hour?" he asked.
"Mm." She nodded softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "My shift ends then. If it's just grabbing something to eat… I wouldn't mind."
There was a faint shine in her eyes, a curiosity she couldn't hide. To her, this wasn't just a casual outing—it was a chance to figure out who this hidden-rich kid really was. Someone who carried RMB coins was not simple. Not even close.
"Alright! I'll be waiting," Wendao said with an easy smile, trying not to look as excited as he felt.
But excitement still leaked through.
His first day after reincarnation, and he already had something that resembled… a date. Albeit a simple food outing. Still, her lack of resistance, the hint of interest in her gaze—it all boosted his confidence more than necessary.
As she returned to her counter duties, occasionally glancing in his direction, Wendao walked away with light steps.
It suddenly clicked in his mind—they were batchmates.
Fine Arts department.
Same year.
Same subject.
He had seen her before, sitting a few rows ahead. But with his old body's timid personality and thin frame that looked like he was forever recovering from an illness, he doubted she ever noticed him. He was the type whose presence didn't ripple the air around him.
After securing the plan to meet Yuning, Wendao stepped outside the game centre. The evening air brushed against his face—cool, slightly humid, carrying the mixed scents of street food stalls from nearby. Neon lights flickered across the pavement, reflecting off passing bicycles and scooters as he began to walk aimlessly down the block.
He needed time to recollect his memories.
Between the original owner's life and his past life's memories, the jumble in his head felt like two overlapping movies playing at the same time. If he didn't sort things out, he might accidentally offend someone important… or worse, expose himself as someone who didn't belong.
As he walked, he checked the system interface again.
Just like before, the translucent blue panel appeared before him, hovering obediently at eye level.
The 100 RMB in his pocket and the 900 in his account—all confirmed as legitimate. He could use it freely. No restrictions, no cooldown, no strange consequences.
But the next section caught his attention.
[Host Character Level: 1]
Daily Passive Income: 1,000 RMB
A small progress bar lay underneath—completely empty.
Only then did he notice the fine print.
To increase income and unlock higher-tier items, the host must level up.
EXP can be gained through quests.
'Quest: Find romantic partners for host.'
'Reward: 10 Exp per personality.'
'Quest: Raise Host Society outlook by a margin.'
'Reward: 20 Exp per book.'
At least this one made sense. Read books, be cultured. Fair enough. But reading required time, and his scattered mental state didn't help.
'Quest: Make Internal connection with those in higher level of society.'
'Reward: 10 Exp per personality.'
He winced.
Networking with the elites?
With his current weak presence, thin frame, and lack of confidence, he would probably be kicked out of any high-society gathering before he even crossed the doorway.
And there were more quests. Many more. Each requiring attention, status, charisma, presence—things he sorely lacked at the moment.
"For now… impossible," Wendao muttered to himself.
He closed the panel with a tired swipe.
He needed a foundation before aiming for these things. A stable reputation. Confidence. Maybe a better appearance. And definitely not fainting in front of rich people.
As he continued walking, his thoughts drifted to the earlier incident at the counter. The credit system of this world resurfaced in his mind—how credits were universal currency, and how RMB had grown insanely rare. He remembered vague rumours that physical RMB was minted with precious metals to prevent counterfeiting.
On a whim, he reached into his pocket and took out the 1-yuan coin again.
Under the streetlamp, the coin glimmered—not the dull metallic shine of cheap currency, but a soft, warm gleam.
Real gold. Not gold-plated. Not gold-colored. Pure gold.
He let out a low whistle.
"No wonder she nearly panicked…" he murmured, shaking his head.
He could practically picture the girl's trembling expression again—her tense shoulders, the way her fingers curled as if the coin were radioactive.
"I really put her in a spot back there," he sighed.
A single gold coin worth ten million credits.
And he had tossed it onto the counter like spare change.
He slipped the coin back into his pocket carefully this time, almost reverently, as if it were a priceless relic. With a helpless laugh, he continued walking down the street. This new world was going to take some getting used to.
After what felt like half an hour of pacing, scrolling through his phone, and pretending he wasn't checking the time every two minutes, Wendao finally spotted her.
Chen Yuning stepped out of the game center's side door, now dressed in casual clothing instead of the shop's hoodie uniform. Her outfit was simple—a soft pastel shirt tucked into light jeans—but on her, it created a refreshing, natural charm that was completely different from the professional vibe she had inside the store. Her hair, now untied, fell slightly over her shoulders, swaying lightly with each step.
For a moment, the neon glow of the street reflected off her figure, giving her an almost gentle halo.
"Finally done with work," Wendao said as he approached, smiling with a tone that carried a hint of the long wait.
She returned the smile just as warmly, a subtle excitement tucked into the corners of her lips.
"Yeah! Just finished. Today was a bit busier than usual." Her mood seemed lighter now, her voice softer. "And after this, I'll be free for a whole week. No shifts."
She said it casually, but her eyes didn't miss a chance to watch his expression. As if she was quietly curious about how he'd react.
And Wendao, blissfully unaware of her unspoken expectation, simply sighed.
"Is that so? Well, that's a shame. I was thinking of visiting you in that game arcade."
He said it plainly, without any attempt at flirting—just honest disappointment.
For a split second, Yuning stared at him, stunned.
Then a small burst of laughter escaped her, light and airy, like she couldn't help herself.
"You really… say everything directly, don't you?" She teased with an amused smile.
Her eyes softened, her earlier curiosity replaced with something warmer. His straightforwardness wasn't off-putting—it was surprisingly refreshing. Most guys she met danced around their intentions, hiding behind awkward hints or overly confident bravado.
But this thin, slightly tired-looking boy?
He just said whatever was on his mind.