Chapter Three: Helping the Elderly Up

Chapter 3: Helping Up the Old Man

“Lose a million?” Shi Bai frowned. “But I’d need to have a million in the first place!”

“The system will give you a million,” the system replied. “Please open the shop interface. There’s a bank card inside.”

Shi Bai quickly opened it and indeed found a spinning green bank card. When he tapped it, it materialized directly in his hand.

“What the—! It just appeared out of thin air!”

“There’s a million in cash on the card. You can use it as you wish, but let me remind you, the goal is to lose money, not give it away. So gambling, gifting, or similar methods are strictly invalid.”

“Huh?” Shi Bai was a little disappointed. He’d thought he could just hand it over to his dad, but it seemed there were more rules.

“That’s all for now. I’ll let you know if something you try isn’t allowed.” The system ended the conversation.

This left Shi Bai at a bit of a loss. No gifting, no gambling—the meaning was clear. Any attempt at taking shortcuts was out of the question. So what should he do?

“Looks like I’ll have to go into business,” Shi Bai thought. “But I can’t invest in my dad’s company, because he’d never agree to a losing deal.”

After pondering, a thought struck him: there was that famous Silu Milk Powder company, which went bankrupt this very year. If he bought their stock, he’d lose everything.

But the task had to be completed within a month, and Silu’s stock wouldn’t crash that quickly.

“So what to do?” Shi Bai stroked his chin. “Since I have all this money, why not finally do what I’ve always dreamed of?”

In his last life, he’d always wanted to open a comic and gaming company, but his failures had left that as nothing but a fantasy. Now that he had money, why not give it a shot?

The thought made him clench his fist—not for anything else, but for the long-lost dream he could finally pursue.

But starting a company wasn’t something that could happen overnight. Having gone through so much in a short time, Shi Bai wanted a break, so he decided to put it aside for now and get some sleep.

Soon, the school day was over. Shi Bai slung his backpack and headed home.

The walk wasn’t far—fifteen minutes on foot. As he passed the still low-rise buildings, walking down this all-too-familiar street, Shi Bai was suddenly overcome by a sense of unreality.

“Like Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream—am I the twenty-nine-year-old dreaming I’m back in high school, or the high schooler dreaming I’m twenty-nine?”

With nostalgia for the passing years and hope for the future, Shi Bai walked home, both excited and grounded.

The route crossed two intersections. At the second, he suddenly saw an old man fall by the roadside.

It was a white-haired elder with slicked-back hair, wearing a jacket embroidered with a dragon. His cane lay discarded on the ground, and he lay there, ignored by passersby.

Judging by his clothes, he was certainly not an ordinary person. Why was he lying there?

Shi Bai glanced at him and was tempted to slip away—after all, in this world, many had gone bankrupt from helping the elderly.

But then he remembered the system. What was there to fear? With newfound confidence, he walked over without hesitation.

“Sir, are you all right? Should I take you to the hospital?” Shi Bai helped the old man up.

The old man groaned for a moment. “No need. The hospital can’t help me. This is an old injury.”

After catching his breath, he seemed much better. He patted Shi Bai on the shoulder with a kindly smile. “You’re a good young man.”

With Shi Bai’s help, the old man slowly stood. He fumbled shakily in his pocket and pulled out a golden card.

“Here, young man, this is my card. If you ever run into trouble, show it, or call the number on it if it’s really serious. I can help you with anything.”

Shi Bai was startled. The card was heavy—pure gold!

Three characters were carved on it: Ye Rulong.

The old man smiled proudly. “I’m not exactly famous, but I do have some influence. Keep this card; it could be a big help.”

Moved by the old man’s generosity, Shi Bai quickly stopped him. “Sir, since you treat me so well, I can’t hide it from you. I have a rather unusual talent.”

The old man paused. “Oh?”

“I can heal your injury,” Shi Bai said.

A flicker of something passed through the old man’s eyes, but he remained calm. “Go on.”

Shi Bai raised his eyebrows, about to speak, when a girl’s voice rang out.

“Grandfather! What are you doing here?”

Shi Bai turned. A young woman in traditional martial attire approached gracefully. She was stunning, with a slender figure and delicate features—Shi Bai had never seen such beauty in his life.

The girl hurried to support the old man, frowning. “Grandpa, you know you have trouble moving—why did you come out alone? Do you know how worried Ying’er was?”

Shi Bai could hardly believe his eyes at the scene before him. Amid the city traffic, a fairy from an ancient painting had appeared.

The old man smiled kindly. “I was bored to death at home. I didn’t want the servants trailing after me, so I came out alone.”

He pointed to Shi Bai. “I ran into a bit of trouble just now, but this young man rescued—helped me. So, thank him.”

The girl, Ying’er, eyed Shi Bai skeptically. “Him? How did he help you?”

The old man grew anxious. “He just did. Ying’er! Are you going to listen to me or not?”

“Yes!” She pouted, then bowed to Shi Bai. “Thank you for helping my grandfather.”

“You’re welcome,” Shi Bai replied calmly. “Now then, sir, let me heal your injury.”

“Heal him?” Ying’er quickly moved in front of her grandfather. “Even Master Qiming couldn’t treat him. How could an ordinary student help?”

The old man smiled, leaning on his dragon-headed cane. “I appreciate your kindness, young man, but I’m afraid you really can’t help with this injury.”

Shi Bai sighed. “You don’t trust me?”

The old man looked at Shi Bai intently, then said, “Forgive me, young man.”

Shi Bai flung the golden card to the ground. “If you don’t trust me, I won’t take your gift!” With that, he turned to go.

Both the old man and Ying’er were stunned. “Wait!” the old man called, limping after him.

Shi Bai stopped, not looking back. “If you want me to heal you, stay. If not, I’ll leave.”

“Heal me!” the old man said quickly. “Since you’re so sure, how could I suspect you? Please, go ahead.”

“Very well.” Shi Bai turned and summoned the system in his mind. “System, can I create my own tasks? I remember you said if I set my own, I could win, right?”

“Yes,” the system replied. “There are two modes: mainline tasks we assign, and self-created tasks. Only when a task is active does the ‘counterattack’ effect work.”

“Got it.” Shi Bai nodded. “If it was always active, I’d have to do everything backwards, and that would be exhausting.”

“Exactly.”

“All right! I’m setting a task now: my mission is to heal the old man’s injury.”

“Self-created task successful. Task initiated.”

“Wait!” Ying’er suddenly stepped in front of her grandfather. “Tell me first—how do you intend to heal him?”

Shi Bai thought for a moment and replied calmly, “With a few punches.”