2: Chapter 2 The First Lesson of a Super Rich Man
Lin Feng squatted on the street corner, finishing the last sip of his coffee.
Five hundred thousand dollars sat in his bank account, yet he remained squatted there like a homeless man who had just received a handout.
It wasn't that he didn't want to stand up.
It was that he didn't know what to do next.
Having lived his previous life as a corporate slave, his first reaction to sudden wealth wasn't joy, but bewilderment.
He pulled out his phone, opened the banking app, and stared at the '500,002.37' for ten seconds. He closed it, opened it again, and stared for another ten seconds.
It was real.
"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, then shoved the phone back into his pocket, stood up, and brushed off his pants.
Whatever, first he needed to find a place to sleep.
—
Lin Feng found a motel and checked into a room.
Forty dollars a night, private bathroom, white sheets, and no suspicious stains.
He lay down, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing.
What could five hundred thousand dollars do in America?
Buy a used BMW? Sure.
Make a down payment on a crappy apartment? Barely.
But if he wanted to do something big—like start a company, invest, or live off the interest—this amount wouldn't even get him through the door.
He rolled over, and his phone vibrated.
[Ding—New task triggered]
Lin Feng sat up with a start.
[Task: Within 7 days, get at least 1,000 people to discuss you on social media.]
[Reward: $500,000.]
[Hint: Traffic = Currency. Make the world happy, and the world will reward you.]
Lin Feng stared at the screen, silent for three seconds.
Then he laughed.
This system really knows how to have a good time.
---
The next morning, Lin Feng checked out, bought a coffee, and continued to squat on the street corner.
It wasn't that he liked squatting.
It was that he discovered he could see many things while squatting that people missed while standing.
For example—
The fried chicken shop across the street had a 'FOR LEASE' sign posted on the door.
A layer of dust had settled on the glass, a lock hung from the handle, and the interior was empty.
Next to it was a notice: After 20 years of business, officially closed due to poor management.
Lin Feng stared at that notice for a long time.
He suddenly remembered something—
In his previous life, there was also a fried chicken shop below his office. It had been open for ten years, and the owner was a chubby man who was always smiling.
Then one day it suddenly closed. He heard it had been crushed by a chain brand.
On the day it closed, the owner squatted at the entrance and smoked for an entire afternoon. When he left, his eyes were red.
Lin Feng had passed by back then, glanced at him, and didn't stop.
Now, looking at this shop across the street, he suddenly felt an itch.
He pulled out his phone and searched for the shop's background—
“Joe’s Fried Chicken, in business for 22 years, announced its closure last month. The owner is a sixty-year-old man named Joe. It’s said that because his son fell ill, he didn't have the energy to manage it, and with three Popeyes opening nearby, he couldn't hold on anymore.”
Lin Feng shoved his phone back into his pocket, stood up, and brushed off his pants.
He knew what to do.
---
When Lin Feng found Joe, the old man was feeding pigeons at home.
It was a dilapidated detached house with a half-overgrown lawn. The old man sat on the steps, a handful of corn kernels in his hand, surrounded by a circle of pigeons.
Lin Feng walked over and squatted beside him.
"Joe?"
The old man looked up at him. "I don't know you."
"I know," Lin Feng said. "I want to buy your shop."
The old man paused, then laughed. "That broken shop? It's been closed for a month, nobody wants it."
"I want it."
The old man looked him up and down: in his early twenties, pilling hoodie, shoes with peeling soles—he looked exactly like a poor international student.
"You have money?"
Lin Feng thought for a moment, pulled out his phone, opened his bank app, and handed it over.
The old man took a look, and his eyes widened.
"Kid, did you rob a bank?"
"Pretty much." Lin Feng took back his phone. "Five hundred thousand dollars, is that enough?"
The old man was silent for three seconds, then asked a question:
"You're Chinese, why come all the way to America to buy a fried chicken shop? What's the catch?"
Lin Feng thought for a moment and said, "For fun."
The old man was stunned.
Lin Feng continued, "You ran that shop for twenty-two years. When were you the happiest?"
The old man didn't speak, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Lin Feng saw it.
"Was it when you first opened? Not many customers, but you knew everyone who came in, could call them by name, and knew exactly what they liked to eat?"
The old man stared at him, saying nothing.
Lin Feng stood up and brushed off his pants. "What I want to buy isn't your shop; it's the version of you from those happiest years. Selling or not?"
The old man remained silent for a long time.
One group of pigeons flew away, and another landed.
Finally, the old man laughed. "Kid, you're out of your mind."
"I know," Lin Feng said. "Selling or not?"
The old man stood up, brushed the corn kernels off himself, and reached out his hand.
"Four hundred and fifty thousand, the shop and equipment are all yours. But there's one condition—"
Lin Feng shook the old man's hand. "Name it."
"You can't change the name. Joe’s Fried Chicken has to stay."
Lin Feng smiled. "I won't change it. But I'm going to add a few words to the front."
The old man frowned. "Add what?"
Lin Feng looked at him, grinning like an idiot.
"The Boss Is Even More Pitiful Than You."
---
Three days later, the closed fried chicken shop reopened.
A new sign hung over the door, reading:
[Joe’s Fried Chicken · The Boss Is Even More Pitiful Than You]
A notice was posted at the entrance:
“About the Boss: A recently deported international student with only $50,000 left in his account (after buying this shop), no green card, no car, no house, and no girlfriend.
If you are also having a miserable day today, come in and get 20% off.
If you are even more pitiful than the boss, show proof and get a free fried chicken combo.
Method of proof: Tell a story more pitiful than the boss's.”
On the first day, twenty people lined up at the door.
On the second day, fifty people.
On the third day, someone posted a video of the line on TikTok.
The video title was: 'The Most Pitiful Fried Chicken Shop in America, the Boss is More Miserable Than the Customers.'
Views: 800,000.
The comment section:
“The boss is Chinese? This is genius.”
“I’m going to line up tomorrow. I just got dumped yesterday; I’m definitely more pitiful than him.”
“LOL, what kind of reverse marketing genius is this?”
“I want to go see just how miserable the boss really is.”
Lin Feng squatted at the shop entrance, scrolling through his phone and smiling like a fool.
[Ding—Task progress update: Social media discussion volume, current: 3,427 people.]
[Task completed: Get 1,000 people to discuss you within 7 days. Actual time taken: 3 days.]
[Reward issued: $500,000 has been credited to your account.]
Lin Feng stared at the bank notification, suddenly feeling a bit dazed.
In his previous life, he had worked overtime until he was half-dead, saving for eight years just to afford a down payment on a house in his hometown.
In this life, it took three days.
All thanks to a defunct fried chicken shop, a crazy marketing idea, and a group of strangers lining up to tell their sob stories.
He looked up at the long line at the door, watching those people laughing as they shared their misfortunes, and suddenly understood something.
The system wasn't just making him get money.
It was helping him discover that the most valuable things in this world were things he had always possessed.
He had just forgotten how to use them when he was a corporate slave in his past life.
---
The phone vibrated again.
[Ding—New task triggered]
Lin Feng looked down:
[Task: Within 30 days, make Joe’s Fried Chicken the most talked-about fried chicken shop in the United States.]
[Reward: $2,000,000 + Special Skill Pack.]
Lin Feng shoved the phone back into his pocket, stood up, and brushed off his pants.
A customer in line shouted at him, "Boss! Any free combos today?"
Lin Feng smiled and waved. "Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after. Anyway, I'm more pitiful than you guys, so you decide."
A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd.
Someone held up their phone, capturing the moment.
Lin Feng knew that video would go viral again tonight.
[End of Chapter 2]