Chapter 503: The Child of Destiny Who Is Not Easy to Deal With!
At this time, as dawn broke, Hangzhou, this new first-tier city, came alive, with office workers pouring out and takeout delivery riders beginning their movements, shuttling through the streets and alleys.
'Hahaha, in one night, just one night, I earned eighty million, almost a small goal.'
Tang Kun had been delivering takeout for an entire evening and night. His eyes were shot through with crimson veins, yet his face was flushed with a manic excitement that completely eclipsed any hint of fatigue. He felt as if a high-octane stimulant had been injected directly into his heart, granting him a boundless, surging energy. The leather of his scooter's handles felt worn and grimy beneath his palms, a stark contrast to the sheer, intoxicating power of his newfound wealth.
Do you understand the sheer absurdity of delivering a simple box of pork trotters over rice and being rewarded with a brand-new Cadillac worth over two million yuan? The system notification had flashed in his vision, a cool, digital blue, and in the next instant, the car key, heavy and metallic, had materialized in his pocket. He could still feel its solid weight against his thigh.
Do you understand the thrill of handing over a nine-yuan-ninety-cent milk tea and receiving a one-million-yuan cashier's check in return? The paper had felt crisp and impossibly real, the ink stark and official, promising a life he had only ever dreamed of.
Do you understand the raw, visceral shock of delivering a greasy Wallace fast-food combo and being directly rewarded with five million yuan in solid gold bars? The system had deposited them into a secure, untraceable locker, and he had spent a full ten minutes just staring at the picture on his phone, the bars gleaming with a heavy, ancient light that promised absolute security.
The exhilaration was a tidal wave, a roaring inferno in his chest. Tang Kun felt like a god. This was the magic of the Takeout Tycoon System, the feeling of standing on the precipice of life's pinnacle, gazing down at the world that had once scorned him. It was a sensation more addictive than any drug, more potent than any liquor.
"I'd originally planned to wait, to build my foundation before confronting Zhou Luyao, to make her truly understand what she lost. But now... now I can't wait a single second longer. As soon as I hit a clean one hundred million, I'm buying the biggest villa on the market, driving the flashiest supercar I can find, and parking it right in front of her apartment!"
"Hehehe, now that I'm this rich, she'll definitely regret it. The legendary 'chasing-husband crematorium'... hehehe..." A wide, almost unhinged grin stretched across Tang Kun's face as the fantasy played out in his mind, vivid and intoxicating.
He could already see it perfectly. He'd pull up in a roaring, million-dollar beast of a car. Zhou Luyao would emerge, her expression a mask of disdain, perhaps with a new, well-dressed man by her side. She'd look at him, at his delivery uniform, and sneer, questioning if he'd rented the car just to impress her. And then, the slow reveal. He'd flash a Patek Philippe watch. He'd casually mention his new mansion by the lake. He'd open the trunk to reveal stacks of cash, precious jewelry, designer goods—an overwhelming avalanche of wealth.
'Hehehe, by then, Zhou Luyao's face will crumble. She'll definitely regret everything. She'll kneel at my feet, her perfectly manicured nails digging into my pant leg, tears streaming down her face as she cries and begs me to take her back.'
'Hmph, you were the one who broke up with me. Why regret it now?'
'This line is brilliant; I have to say it just like that.' The memory of yesterday's humiliation burned hot in his mind. He had been on his knees on that very street, the rough asphalt digging into his skin, crying, begging her for another chance while she had just looked down at him with cold, merciless pity before turning her back and walking away. The laughter of the onlookers had felt like physical blows. The shame had been absolute.
Even for an extreme simp like Tang Kun, that kind of heartbreak cut deep, carving out a piece of his soul.
But after the heartbreak, what else was there to do? Naturally, he would forgive her! She was his goddess, after all.
"One day... no, three days. I have to make Zhou Luyao stew in her regret for at least three full days. Only after she's begged me nonstop for seventy-two hours will I mercifully, mercifully, forgive her! How dare she hurt me so deeply this time!"
Tang Kun held up a single, determined finger, then paused, considering. His expression turned serious as he raised two more, making a resolute trio. Three days. That was the price of his forgiveness. This time, he swore he wouldn't be soft-hearted. The wound was simply too deep!
...
At that very moment, Tang Kun was completely oblivious to a young man standing by the roadside. Dressed in ordinary clothes with a face that blended into any crowd, the young man's eyes swept over him with a flicker of strange, ancient knowledge before his gaze moved on, betraying no interest.
'That person... his name is Tang Kun, if my memory serves me right,' Wu Ming thought, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. 'If I'm not mistaken, his beloved goddess, Zhou Luyao, has already spent the night in a hotel with that devil, Shen Anyu. And he himself is already on Shen Anyu's radar. His lucky streak is a flash in the pan. His days are numbered; he's about to be utterly destroyed.'
A quiet sigh escaped Wu Ming's lips, visible as a faint mist in the cool morning air. 'So reckless. So unstable. How can anyone who falls into Shen Anyu's sights possibly end well?'
Wu Ming shook his head slowly, a deep-seated weariness in his bones. He walked past Tang Kun without a second glance, his pace steady and unremarkable. The last thing he wanted was to engage in any conversation, to create any ripple that might draw that devil's attention back to him.
He could never forget the memories of his previous life. They were etched into his soul with acid and fire.
He had lost both parents at a young age, and his life had been a constant struggle, pieced together by the kindness of neighbors and distant relatives. Fortunately, he was diligent and intelligent enough to earn a place at the same university as the girl he secretly worshipped from afar, Yang Qiuchan.
But Wu Ming had only ever dared to watch her from a distance, acutely aware of the chasm between them. He was a weed; she was a celestial flower. Yang Qiuchan was so beautiful, so full of life, her laughter like wind chimes. She was cheerful, kind, and gentle to everyone. How could a poor, unremarkable orphan like him ever be worthy of her?
Then, the impossible happened. During a trip back to his desolate hometown to sweep his parents' graves, a careless cut from a stray branch caused a drop of his blood to fall onto an ancient, dusty jade pendant he found in his family's old house. It had pulsed with a warm light, recognizing him as its master and granting him access to a Portable Immortal Mansion.
It was a world unto itself. A pocket dimension of fertile spirit soil where he could grow anything. As he leveled up his farming skills, he found he could cultivate countless rare and legendary treasures—longevity fruits that could extend a mortal's lifespan by decades, Yellow Millet that could accelerate a cultivator's progress. Everything he could imagine, and more. Most importantly, he could retreat into the mansion instantly, a perfect sanctuary to evade any enemy, any danger. Within that personal world, he also discovered the inheritance of an ancient Cultivator, setting him on the noble path of cultivation, transforming him from a mundane mortal into an extraordinary being.
Finally armed with courage and confidence, Wu Ming began his fervent, heartfelt pursuit of Yang Qiuchan.
But what he never, ever expected was that his newfound luck would make him a target. He had fallen into the sights of a true devil—Shen Anyu.
And by extension, so had Yang Qiuchan.
The memory of that night was a recurring nightmare. It was a night of absolute heartbreak. He learned that Shen Anyu had taken Yang Qiuchan to a hotel. Blinded by rage and desperation, he had finally cast aside all caution and rushed over, only to suffer a defeat so crushing, so absolute, that it was laughable. He was killed instantly, his nascent cultivation a flickering candle snuffed out by a hurricane.
'Failure. Utter failure,' Wu Ming's thoughts were laced with the bitter taste of self-loathing. 'I was given a heaven-defying cheat like the Portable Immortal Mansion, a cultivator's inheritance, and I was instantly killed before I even managed to break through to the Foundation Establishment Stage. What a complete and utter joke.'
'Now that I have returned from Rebirth, I have only one creed: be steady, be cautious, and lie low until the end of time!'
'As for Shen Anyu... I can cultivate for longevity. A hundred years, a thousand years, it makes no difference to me. I'll wait until he's nothing but dust and bones, and then I will find his grave and dance upon it to finally vent this hatred.'
'And Yang Qiuchan...' His eyes flickered, a storm of intense struggle and hesitation raging within him. Pain, love, longing, and fear warred for dominance, but he ruthlessly suppressed them, his expression calming into a mask of cold resolve.
'Yang Qiuchan is very likely a target for Shen Anyu in this life as well. I cannot contact her. I must not. To do so would be to fall back into his sights and repeat the same tragic mistake.'
This time, Wu Ming had only emerged from his Portable Immortal Mansion to purchase necessary supplies. He needed modern electronics—solar panels, batteries, laptops loaded with information. He also needed a variety of seeds and larvae for his farm. Things like the legendary Qilin melons and rare Roci shrimp larvae would undergo wondrous mutations when raised in the spirit-rich environment of his mansion.
After this supply run, he would immediately retreat back into his sanctuary to cultivate and farm in absolute secrecy.
He would outlive Shen Anyu.
'One year from now, the Immortal Path to the Xuanhuang World will open. When that time comes, I can escape to a higher realm entirely. Very few people on Earth know this secret. Going to the Xuanhuang World is the ultimate way to avoid that devil, Shen Anyu.'
'Oh, right. It's also possible that cultivators from the Xuanhuang World have already descended to the mortal realm, scouting for talented disciples, or 'Dao seeds.' It's a pity my own Aptitude is mediocre. Besides, I don't dare to show myself to them. Revealing any talent would be like lighting a beacon, drawing Shen Anyu's attention and leading me down the same path to ruin.'
'In short, upon my Rebirth, my greatest principle is to lie low. Avoid Shen Anyu. Avoid all danger!'
'With the Portable Immortal Mansion, with cultivation techniques, and with an endless supply of longevity fruits, I will be the one who has the final laugh!'
His strategy solidified, Wu Ming walked with quiet purpose into the sprawling supermarket, just another face in the morning crowd.
...
"If I were Wu Ming, with a portable immortal mansion and having been reborn, and I was killed by him in my previous life, I would definitely be more stable and cautious, trying my best to avoid him, and only seek revenge when my cultivation and strength are sufficient."
"However, from the appraisal background description, Wu Ming should be the extreme 'lie low' type, only coming to dance on my grave after I'm dead."
Shen Anyu put himself in Wu Ming's shoes and pondered.
Should he find a grave and lie in it now?
He was joking, and Wu Ming wouldn't believe it either. Perhaps Shen Anyu would lie in a grave for decades or even a century before Wu Ming would come to dance on his grave.
Shen Anyu didn't have that much time to play this game with Wu Ming.
"Let's try Yang Qiuchan, this associated Destined Heroine, first. If that doesn't work, I'll think of other methods. Fortunately, Wu Ming, this 'lie low' reborn Child of Destiny, isn't very aggressive or dangerous..."
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