Page (1/3)

Lin Chuan walked on the noisy street, his heart beating steadily and strongly in his chest.

The rage and loss of control in the restaurant have been completely stripped away. After the huge dizziness of rebirth subsided, what remains is absolute calmness.

There are only a series of numbers in his mind now.

That string of numbers was discussed on the streets of Jiangcheng for a whole month in the previous life, and was even printed on the front page of the newspaper.

Crossing two streets, a store with a dilapidated red background and white lettering sign of "China Welfare Lottery" appeared in front of us.

The store is not big, with two folding tables inside.

Several shirtless middle-aged men were writing and drawing on scrap paper with pencils, their brows frowning so hard they could kill a fly.

The boss behind the counter was shaking his cattail leaf fan and listening to Shan Tianfang’s storytelling on the radio with half-closed eyes.

Lin Chuan walked straight to the counter, took out a crumpled two-yuan note from his trouser pocket, and pressed his fingertips against the glass plate.

"Boss, make a bet on the two-color ball."

The boss didn’t raise his eyes and lazily pulled out a betting slip: “Select by machine or by yourself?”

"Choose for yourself."

Lin Chuan’s voice was steady, neither fast nor slow: “Red ball, 05, 12, 16, 24, 27, 31. Blue ball, 08.”

The boss’s fingers on the keyboard paused and he glanced up at him.

This young man was wearing a white T-shirt that had turned yellow after washing. He looked poor, but he didn't even stutter when he called out his number. His eyes were straight and filled with indescribable energy.

"A total of two yuan. Young man, don't you double it? There is a pool of five million today."

The boss made a habitual sales pitch, and sneered secretly in his heart - he is another poor guy who wants to make a fortune, and he can't even afford to buy an extra bet.

"No need, one injection is enough."

​Special prize, one bet is enough to empty the prize pool.

The thermal paper printer makes a "buzzing" sound.

A lottery ticket with residual warmth was pushed out.

Lin Chuan reached out and pinched the thin piece of paper, and the rough touch spread throughout his body along his fingertips.

Five million.

In 2000, the cost of a flat-storey apartment in the city center of Jiangcheng was only a few hundred thousand.

He folded the lottery ticket carefully, put it into his shirt pocket close to his heart, turned around and opened the door curtain.

As soon as he walked out of the alley where the lottery shop was located, two hurried footsteps chased him from behind.

"Lin Chuan! Stop!"

Liu Mei was out of breath while running on those inferior high-heeled shoes, and the makeup on her face was stained by sweat.

Zhang Lei followed closely behind her, his fake Pierre Cardin suit open, breathing heavily from exhaustion.

Zhang Lei grabbed Lin Chuan’s arm and forced a brotherly smile on his face:

"Kawako, you've gone too far with your drinking today! Let's just tear up the transfer agreement. What nonsense were you talking about in the box just now?"

"Your sister-in-law... no, do you still want Liu Mei's reputation? Come, come back with me and admit your mistake to my father. We can discuss the matter of one hundred thousand yuan."

Lin Chuan lowered his eyes and his gaze fell on Zhang Lei's hand holding his.

In the last life, it was this hand that held the wine glass and drank the poison that killed him.

"Let go."

The sound is not loud, but it is too cold to be warm.

Zhang Lei was stunned for a moment, and felt an inexplicable suddenness in his heart.

The Lin Chuan in front of him was obviously still the cowardly boy, but the look in his eyes sent shivers down his spine. Page (1/3)