5: Chapter 5 Gold Changes Hands
March 15, 2025, Saturday, Sunny, 7 ~ 18°C.
At six in the morning, the eastern sky was just beginning to show the first light of dawn.
Qiao Yichen, who had fallen asleep yesterday afternoon, woke up now, prompted by his biological clock.
The curtains were drawn, leaving only the lingering warmth and dimness of sleep in the room. After waking up, he didn't immediately get out of bed, but lay there, placing his palm on his chest to feel his heartbeat.
In his previous life, he died on the bed of a hotel suite, the cause being sudden cardiac arrest.
In this life, he was reborn at his workstation, and the original owner died from overwork.
Two lifetimes, two lives, both ruined by the issue of 'a collapsed body'.
After thinking this through, Qiao Yichen sat up and threw off the quilt to get out of bed. He walked to the closet—it was a simple cloth wardrobe the original owner had bought online, and the zipper was a bit sticky. He pulled it open; inside hung a few shirts and jeans, with miscellaneous items piled at the bottom.
He squatted down to rummage through, and his fingers touched a piece of chemical fiber fabric that felt quite coarse.
Pulling it out, he saw it was a set of dark, old sportswear, the color faded to gray, with the fabric noticeably thinner at the elbows and knees.
This was what he used to wear often in memory, but it had been essentially 'put away' once he got busy with work.
After changing into these old sweats, a familiar tightness spread across his shoulders and chest—the skeletal frame of this body was much leaner than his memory of his original self.
Putting on his shoes, as he tied the laces, he suddenly remembered the custom-made running shoes from before, whose soles would adjust support based on his arch and gait.
The pair on his feet now looked like an out-of-season sale item from some brand, and the tread on the soles was mostly worn smooth; one could only say they were better than nothing.
He stopped dwelling on these thoughts.
Once ready, he pushed open his room door and walked out.
He lived in a shared rental house. It was still the middle of the night, the entire living room was dark without lights on, and the door to the room of the little internet celebrity Min Min, the main bedroom, was tightly shut.
He tiptoed across the living room, trying not to make a sound.
After going downstairs, because the "Ruiyuan Residential Area" where he lived was generally quite old, it lacked facilities like a 'park'.
However, behind the complex, there was a small public green space with a plastic jogging track about two hundred meters long.
In the early morning, a few elderly people were already walking slowly on the green space, and opera music played from the radios clipped to their waists, occasionally singing along as they walked.
Arriving there, Qiao Yichen first did a few stretches, then some warm-up movements. Only when he felt his body was loosened up did he start moving around the old track.
The entire track was uneven; in some places, the plastic had begun to age and crack, exposing the cement underneath.
Qiao Yichen didn't run very fast initially; the main focus wasn't speed, but observing his own breathing and heartbeat.
Exhale—inhale, exhale—inhale.
He just repeated this rhythm continuously.
Slowly, sweat quickly seeped out of his skin. The fabric of the sportswear was not very breathable, causing a stuffy feeling all over his body.
But he still chose to keep running, not stopping his pace.
After running about three laps, estimating about six hundred meters, his lungs started to feel strained, and his thighs felt heavy.
And now, he had to slow down and stop after running just a few hundred meters to catch his breath in the interval.
The original owner's body really seemed severely weak.
Thinking back to his past life, as the Vice President of a major corporation, every workout was in a private gym, with a heart rate monitor connected to a large screen and a professional coach recording data beside him.
After exercising or when tired, someone would always hand him water and a towel.
Now, he helplessly stopped, bent over, bracing his hands on his knees, gasping for air.
At this moment, the morning air carried the scent of dew and grass, cool yet real as it entered his lungs.
Just then, an old man taking a walk nearby passed him, glanced at him, and teased with a chuckle, "Young man, how long has it been since you moved? Why are you so weak, your face is even pale."
Qiao Yichen lacked the strength to reply; he could only slowly straighten up, wave his hand to signal the old man, and then, with steps like the devil's—slowly—he walked to a bench on the green space and sat down.
He looked up at the sky gradually brightening in the distance, lost in thought.
Health.
This was the first thing, and the essential thing, he had to firmly grasp after his rebirth.
Money can be earned again, opportunities can be found again, and connections can be rebuilt if lost.
But as soon as the body collapses, everything resets to zero, just like before.
After resting on the chair for ten minutes, he got up and walked back. He arrived at the breakfast stall near the complex entrance, bought soy milk and a few steamed buns, and paid via QR code.
The balance displayed on his phone was only 327.41 yuan.
Seeing this number, he took a fierce bite of a bun.
Remembering that the gold bar from yesterday hadn't been liquidated yet, the first thing he needed to do today was this; he couldn't delay...
In the blink of an eye, it was half-past nine in the morning. Qiao Yichen, leaving the "Ruiyuan Residential Area," walked into a gold shop carrying that old backpack.
The shop was tucked away on an Old Street, with a small storefront. Various gold ornaments were displayed in the glass counters. The owner was a lean man in his fifties, currently wearing reading glasses while scrolling through his phone.
"Selling gold," Qiao Yichen said, taking the gold bar out of his backpack and placing it on the counter.
The owner put down his phone, picked up the gold bar. He opened the packaging, weighed it by feel, placed it on the electronic scale, examined the engraving with a magnifying glass, and finally took out a small spectrometer—the entire process was executed with practiced fluidity.
"Au99.9, one hundred grams," the owner said, putting down the instrument and looking up at him.
"I don't have a purchase certificate here, so I can't confirm the legal source, which means I'm taking a risk. The gold price today is 910 yuan per gram, so I need to deduct a bit," the owner said, then tapped out the number 89000 on the calculator.
Qiao Yichen looked at the calculator, silent for two seconds: "89,500. Transfer it."
The owner squinted at him, finally nodding: "Deal."
Just as the owner said the word 'Deal,' a system prompt suddenly popped up in his field of vision.
[System Prompt]
Intelligence verification for this instance is complete.
No subsequent risks were triggered.
Qiao Yichen froze in place for a few seconds. After the intelligence concluded, a verification message actually popped up. After coming to his senses, he handed over his phone's QR code for payment.
A few minutes later, the deposit notification sounded on his phone. He didn't linger in the gold shop but turned and walked into the crowd outside the door. Intelligence Mission One had been successfully liquidated, and the amount was within expectations.
By noon, Qiao Yichen first ate lunch at a roadside restaurant, then walked towards his destination mall.
His goals were clear: first, he went to the menswear store and bought two decent sets of clothes. Then he bought two sets of sportswear for washing and changing during his morning runs, plus a brand-new backpack.
He didn't go to luxury brands for clothes, as he currently lacked the means. His assets were limited, so he could only choose a domestic business casual brand with a good reputation.
A dark gray linen-blend shirt, black slim-fit trousers, a navy blue lightweight suit jacket, and a pair of brown suede loafers—he chose styles that fit well.
While trying on the shirt, he remembered the Italian custom suits from his previous life, each bearing the tailor's handwritten serial number.
This shirt, however, had the generic size printed on the label: "XL 180/96A."
He stared at himself in the mirror wearing the affordable shirt for a few seconds, then directly scanned the code and paid. The total for all these items added up to only about 2,500 yuan.
On the way, he also stopped by a styling shop in the mall, where he had the stylist give him a short, spiky, clean, and fresh haircut.
After tidying up, his overall image was completely different from before; he looked much more energetic and handsome.
By the time he returned to the shared rental house, it was already three o'clock.
The little internet celebrity Min Min in the main bedroom was nowhere to be found; there had been no movement from her room the entire time.
He returned to his own room, first confirming his phone balance, then paid off the 18,000 yuan he owed on his credit card, finally letting out a long sigh, feeling the lightness of being debt-free.