12: Chapter 12 Good boy... he's grown up

He could buy a large villa in the city center, hire two nannies, and the remaining money would be enough for him to eat lobster every day until he was sick of it.

"I'll go back and take a shower first."

Jiang Feng pushed open the somewhat rusty security door of his home.

No one was home.

His parents were ordinary workers, and at this hour, they were still working overtime at the factory.

This was the cruelty of this world.

Without talent, even if you worked yourself to death, you could barely manage to stay fed and warm.

But starting today, things were different.

Jiang Feng walked into his narrow bedroom, threw himself onto the bed, and looked at the mold spot on the ceiling, the corners of his mouth curling up uncontrollably.

"Ancient War Titan... All-Class Mastery..."

He raised his hand and made a grasping motion in the empty air.

It was as if he had grasped his entire future.

"This is only the beginning."

"Once I deal with this gear, convert it into real-world resources, and then hit the auction house for a wave of skill books..."

Jiang Feng rolled over and fished out a phone with a cracked screen from under his pillow.

As soon as he turned it on, various news notifications popped up.

They were all about the big shot "**Feng."

The bold, dark red headlines were even more eye-catching:

《City-wide Martial Law! Where Is the First Clearer of the Purgatory Difficulty Hiding?》

《General Li Yan Speaks Out: We Will Dig Three Feet Deep to Find That "Feng God"!》

《In-Depth Analysis: The Mysterious Powerhouse May Be a Successor of a Hidden Clan, Extremely Reclusive!》

Looking at those analyses that were talking nonsense with a straight face, Jiang Feng almost laughed out loud.

"What reclusive expert? Absolutely hilarious."

There were even many "experts" analyzing the psychological profile of this mysterious powerhouse.

If these self-proclaimed experts knew that the "hidden powerhouse" they were talking about was currently staring blankly at overnight leftovers in the microwave, they would probably eat their glasses on the spot.

*Creak—*

The rusty security door let out a miserable screech.

His parents were back. Their footsteps were heavy and dragging, like two old machines in disrepair. His father, Jiang Jianguo, wore a faded blue work uniform covered in the smell of machine oil; his mother, Liu Cuilan, carried a translucent plastic bag containing a few hard buns and half a roast duck bought at a discount in this district.

"Xiao Feng, you're not asleep yet?" Liu Cuilan saw her son and forced a faint smile through her exhaustion. "You must be starving, right? Mom will heat up the food now. The workshop ran a bit late tonight to rush out a batch of defective goods."

"It's fine, I just got back too." Jiang Feng took the plastic bag, his gaze sweeping over his father.

Old Jiang was a bit unusual today. Instead of clamoring for two taels of bulk white liquor as soon as he entered, he walked silently to the balcony and lit a cheap Hongmei cigarette.

The smoke curled under the dim yellow light, his back hunched like a low-quality bow that couldn't be drawn.

"Dad, did the factory cause trouble again?" Jiang Feng asked seemingly casually while plating the roast duck.

"Sigh..." Jiang Jianguo took a deep drag and crushed the cigarette butt firmly on the windowsill, as if crushing some form of resentment. "That bloodsucker Zhou the Skinner said they're laying people off because profits are down. It's clearly the aging machinery breaking down, but he insists on blaming us veteran employees for operational errors. Not only is he docking our performance pay, but he also wants to force us out indirectly."

"That's enough, old man, don't say such depressing things in front of the child." Liu Cuilan came out with the warmed buns, her eyes slightly red. "At worst, I'll go wash dishes for someone. As long as Xiao Feng can do well, our suffering is nothing. By the way, Xiao Feng, how did the Awakening go today?"

Finally, they reached the main topic.

Jiang Feng picked up a bun and took a bite, his tone as flat as if he were saying cabbage was two-fifty a catty today: "It was okay. My luck was pretty good, B-rank talent."

"B-rank?!"

Jiang Jianguo spun around abruptly, his cloudy eyes instantly widening like copper bells. "That's an elite talent! Good lad! The smoke rising from the Jiang family's ancestral grave isn't just green this time—it's on fire! That kid from old Wang's house next door only awakened a D-rank, yet he acts like he's looking down his nose at everyone every day."

"It's not that amazing, it's just a support-type talent called [Diligence Makes Up for Lack of Talent]. It gives a bit more experience for killing monsters." Jiang Feng poured a glass of water for his father, rounding out the logic seamlessly. "Although its combat power is average, these days, being a 'power leveler' for a boss is a hot commodity. It's fast to level up and safe."

"Power leveling is good! Power leveling is great!" Liu Cuilan nodded repeatedly, letting out a long sigh of relief. "Mom was just afraid you'd awaken as some Berserker who charges into battle; that's risking your life. Following behind a boss to leech some experience is steady!"

The couple was clearly beyond satisfied with this result. In the survival philosophy of those at the bottom, nothing in this world was more important than "staying alive" and "stability."

"Oh, right," Jiang Jianguo seemed to remember something, his expression suddenly becoming excited like a little old man telling gossip. "Did you hear? Today, some god-tier player with the code name 'Feng' cleared that Purgatory dungeon that even legends and geniuses couldn't beat! Even General Li Yan from the military district went to pick him up in an armed helicopter! The prestige, tsk tsk!"

"I heard about it long ago; they're talking about it all over the wet market." Liu Cuilan looked envious. "That person must be a star of wisdom and war descended from the heavens. If our Xiao Feng could have half... no, one percent of that success, I would feel like I haven't lived this life in vain."

Jiang Feng lowered his head to drink his porridge, using the rim of the bowl to hide the smile he couldn't suppress.

One percent?

How much was that? Probably enough for me to kill a chicken to celebrate?

"Dad, Mom." Jiang Feng put down his chopsticks, his expression becoming a bit more serious. "Actually, my luck really was good today. I managed to scavenge a skill book at the edge of the dungeon, and it was bought by someone from a guild as soon as I came out."

"A skill book?" Jiang Jianguo was stunned and immediately became alert. "How much did you sell it for? You didn't let them cheat you, did you? Those guild people have more schemes than a honeycomb."

"Not much."

Jiang Feng reached into his hoodie pocket—actually retrieving it from his system inventory—and pulled out two stacks of crisp red hundred-yuan bills, placing them gently on the rickety table.

"Twenty thousand."

The living room fell silent instantly, so quiet that the sound of the neighbor's TV could be heard.

For this family, whose combined monthly income was less than five thousand and who still had to pay off a mortgage and medical bills, this stack of red notes was not just money—it was a fortune, a life-saving straw.

In reality, over three million gold coins were sitting in Jiang Feng's inventory, a sum large enough to buy several shops in Dongjiang City.

But he didn't dare take it out. If he threw down three million now, the old couple probably wouldn't sleep tonight; they'd suspect he had worn a mask and robbed a bank.

Twenty thousand was just right. It fell within the reasonable income upper limit for a B-rank talent rookie; it could solve their immediate needs without causing suspicion.

"This... so much?" Liu Cuilan's hands were shaking, a minor ailment from years of labor. She wanted to touch the money but didn't dare.

"Take it." Jiang Feng pushed the money over, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Dad, that crappy factory—if you're being mistreated, just stop working there. Use this money to settle the external debts first, and use what's left to buy some ribs to nourish yourselves these next few days. I'll be working with a guild from now on, so there will be plenty of 'extra income' opportunities like this."

Jiang Jianguo looked at the money on the table, then at his son's face, which was still youthful yet possessed a sense of steadiness. His eyes instantly reddened. This man, whose back had been bent by life, opened his mouth, but in the end, all his words were squeezed into one nasal sentence:

"Good lad... you've grown up."

This dinner, though consisting only of pickles and buns with cold roast duck, tasted like a Manchu-Han Imperial Feast to the old couple.