Chapter 1 4735 Bitcoins

Chapter 1: 4735 bitcoins (This book is not a brainless "rich tycoon" novel)

There were two days left in the divorce cooling-off period.

Chen Ang returned to the old house in the university town to tidy up, preparing to move in after the divorce.

He opened the wardrobe, where a few old T-shirts from his college days were hanging.

He pulled open a drawer, revealing two yellowing books, a few certificates, and a box of long-expired condoms.

The innermost drawer was stuck. He yanked it hard, and the whole thing came loose, spilling its contents all over the floor.

A black USB drive rolled to his feet.

He didn't remember this USB drive. He turned it over a few times, but it was nothing special—just an old Kingston model.

After a moment's thought, he casually plugged it into his laptop. Inside, there was only one file: wallet_4735.txt.

He clicked it open. A long string of letters and numbers, like some kind of private key, appeared, with a line of small text at the bottom:

"Angzi, 4735 of them. Don't sell too early."

Chen Ang stared at this line of text, stunned.

4735 of them? What?

His heart skipped a beat. He quickly copied the key and imported it into the wallet software.

The moment the page loaded, all the numbers popped up at once:

4735 coins.

Worth 302.37 million USD.

At the current exchange rate, that was over two billion RMB.

Chen Ang stared at the screen, motionless.

The room was quiet, save for the hum of the laptop fan. October sunlight squeezed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a thin line across the screen.

It fell right on that nine-digit number.

He reached for the water glass on the table. The moment his trembling fingers touched the rim, the glass slipped from his fingertips and shattered on the floor.

He didn't care; his eyes never left the screen.

It was Sun Yi, he remembered now.

That internet cafe manager from his high school days, the friend who always saved him a computer.

That night, while they were watching a game and drinking, he heard there was a fight outside the school. Then Sun Yi ran over saying he needed to borrow money to run away, so he withdrew ten thousand yuan from his card and shoved it into his hand.

Sun Yi took the money and handed him something.

Right, it was this USB drive.

"If I don't pay you back within a year, take this to settle the debt." Sun Yi ran off after saying that, and that very night, he died in a car accident.

Chen Ang was afraid of trouble, so he didn't go to collect the debt. The USB drive was thrown into the drawer, where it lay for fifteen years.

Ten thousand yuan, fifteen years, two billion.

Chen Ang couldn't control the sudden trembling of his body.

Then his phone suddenly rang. The screen showed a call from his mother.

He took two deep breaths before pressing answer. "Mom."

"Chen Ang, why did you send money again this month..." Qu Suping's voice was very soft, carrying a cautious awkwardness. "If this keeps up, Wen Huilin will think you're a burden to her. It's not good for your little family."

Chen Ang opened his mouth, wanting to say, "Mom, I have money now, a lot of money." But the words died on his lips, and he swallowed them back.

He knew very well that his mother had a weak heart; she had undergone major surgery when she was young and couldn't handle the shock.

"Mom, it's fine. I've already made arrangements for the money, don't worry."

"Then are your own expenses enough? Your dad said the construction site might pay two thousand more next month, and then..."

"Don't worry about me. You and Dad need to take care of your health."

"We're perfectly healthy." His mother's voice suddenly softened. "Chen Zhuo stays at the old house whenever he's free, so don't worry too much."

"Hmm." Chen Ang covered his face with his left hand and dragged it down firmly. "I'll come home for Grandma's birthday. Let Chen Zhuo stay at home more these days."

After hanging up, he sat on the dusty sofa.

The room was very quiet. So quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat, thumping against his eardrums as if they were vibrating.

Two billion.

He covered his face again. The eyes peeking through his fingers slowly lost focus as the events of seven years ago played out before him like an old movie, frame by frame.

His father Chen Zhonghui's building materials company had been set up by someone.

A 27 million yuan hole, the payments for goods couldn't be collected, and then a tax audit suddenly arrived.

Overnight, the sky collapsed.

The newly married Chen Ang proposed selling this old house to pay off the debt, but both his mother and his wife disagreed.

After struggling for more than half a year, the whole family mortgaged all their assets to scrape together 23 million yuan, and they borrowed the remaining 4 million from relatives.

He went from a rich second generation to a beast of burden.

That year, he was twenty-six. He found a sales job at an import-export company in Bin City, and after work, he moonlighted as a Didi driver and a designated driver, taking home about sixteen thousand a month.

He gave his wife Wen Huilin eight thousand for household expenses, sent six thousand to his mother to pay off the debt, and kept two thousand for himself.

Two thousand yuan was only enough for food and subway fare in Bin City.

For seven years, he had barely bought a new piece of clothing, quit smoking, and rarely went to dinners, all because he wanted to save money.

A month ago, Wen Huilin placed the divorce agreement on the table.

"I can't take it anymore. Even if you don't think of me, you should think of Chen Zetian, right? Do you want Chen Zetian to carry debt with you for the rest of his life?"

When she said this, she kept her head down without looking at him once, her tone as calm as if she were talking about someone else's affairs.

Chen Ang was silent for ten minutes, then signed it.

The house in the new district that was still being paid off went to her, and this three-bedroom apartment in the old district was left for his son Chen Zetian.

The thirty-day cooling-off period had two days left.

Chen Ang got up and walked back to the laptop. The screen was still on, and that long string of USD digits was still there.

He picked up his phone, subconsciously about to dial Wen Huilin's number, wanting to tell her that he had money now, they didn't need to divorce, and the debt could be paid off.

His finger hovered over the dial button, then suddenly stopped.

He had endured for seven years, so why did she want a divorce now?

He slowly put the phone down, and the things that had been chaotic in his mind for seven years suddenly began to clear up.

Like someone with myopia putting on glasses, all the blurry outlines now had clear edges.

Over the past month, Wen Huilin had become increasingly impatient with him.

She didn't look him in the eye when talking, and she always turned away from him when replying to WeChat messages.

His son had also started acting strange—perfunctory and distant, as if calling him "Dad" was just completing a homework assignment.

Before, he thought it was because the debt was making people act abnormally.

Now, in this moment, with the confidence of having two billion, he finally dared to think in those unpleasant directions.

He put away his phone, grabbed his car keys, and walked out of the old house without looking back.

The bitcoin needed to be cashed out, and the reason Wen Huilin brought up the divorce needed to be investigated.

The late October wind in Bin City was already cold.

As his Magotan sped along Binjiang Road, Chen Ang rolled down the window. The cold wind rushed in, and for the first time, he felt his mind was so clear.

For seven years, he had been paying off debts, bowing his head, and enduring. Now, it was time to change to a more magnificent way of living.

Money is a man's courage.

Now, he was bold as can be.

He had the boldness, but he still needed to be careful. He told himself: Stay steady.

While waiting at a red light, he dialed the number of his childhood friend, Yu Liang.

"Ah Liang, introduce me to a reliable lawyer."

"What's wrong?" Yu Liang's voice sounded a bit surprised.

The two had been friends since they were kids. When his family went bankrupt back then, Yu Liang had secretly given him a card with two million yuan behind his wife's back. He hadn't taken it, but that didn't mean he didn't remember the gesture.

"It's about assets."

"Just that?"

Chen Ang stared at the red light ahead, gave a grunt of affirmation, and said nothing more.

He hung up, pressed the gas pedal, and the Magotan let out a dull roar as it merged into the traffic.

Two billion—completely his personal pre-marital assets.

As long as he didn't mix this money with post-marital household expenses and didn't put it in his own name, no one could take a single cent.

Now, he needed to get two things straight first:

First, how to safely secure the money.

Second, who the hell had he been slaving away for these past seven years?