Zhong Ziyan had fought her way through the infinite space for who knows how many years, emerging as the strongest—and poorest—team leader.
Every member of her squad was dirt-poor, stretching every reward point to its limit until poverty became second nature.
So when she finally saved up enough points to leave the infinite space, Zhong Ziyan grabbed the Mainframe by its metaphorical throat and made a simple, heartfelt wish: "Once I'm out, I want to be a carefree winner who reaps without sowing, lying at life’s finish line eating Häagen-Dazs ice cream."
She paused, then added, "Got it?"
The Mainframe, its fate gripped by the hands of a supreme powerhouse: "..." Weak. Helpless. Pitiful.
Faced with an infinite-space legend who could single-handedly dismantle its entire system, what could the Mainframe do? Despair, that’s what.
—And so, Zhong Ziyan was dropped into a mirrored projection world.
To put it simply, she now lived in a world derived from the foundation of a certain novel.
Standing on the street, Zhong Ziyan spent two seconds mentally digesting the plot of "I Saved the Cold-Faced CEO from His Gold-Digging Ex-Wife with True Love." She then glanced expressionlessly at her reflection in a shop window.
Instead of being reborn as the billionaire CEO, she’d been cast as the gold-digging ex-wife.
Flat broke—couldn’t even afford a lollipop, let alone Häagen-Dazs.
Revenge is a dish best served cold. Well played, Mainframe.
Zhong Ziyan rummaged through her trench coat pocket and pulled out a phone. Following the character and plot setup the Mainframe had assigned her, she scrolled through the call log, tapped a number, and dialed.
After three rings, the call connected. Before the other person could speak, Zhong Ziyan cut in: "I agree. Come pick me up to sign."
Then she hung up, turning her head to lock eyes with a young girl who’d been staring at her from the doorway of a nearby ice cream shop.
The part-time worker, caught red-handed, flushed crimson and stammered, "S-sorry... M-miss, would you like some ice cream? W-what flavor?"
Zhong Ziyan skimmed the menu and declared, "Give me the most expensive one."
Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, the assistant who’d just been hung up on double-checked the caller ID—it was indeed labeled "Zhong Ziyan."
—Hadn’t she just vehemently rejected the agreement yesterday, insisting that one year was too short and demanding five years as Mrs. Wei? What changed her mind so fast?
Just then, the conference room door opened. The assistant composed himself and waited by the door until the executives filed out before approaching the lone man still seated inside. "Sir, Zhong Ziyan called back. She agreed."
Wei Hanyun’s pen paused mid-stroke. "Agreed?"
"No additional demands. Straightforward acceptance." The assistant nodded. "Shall I go check on her?"
"You handle it." Wei Hanyun signed his name with practiced ease, indifferent to the woman about to become his wife. "I’m heading back to the family estate."
The assistant took the freshly signed documents and quietly acknowledged the order before arranging a car to fetch Zhong Ziyan.
Even if she hadn’t specified her location, tracking her down was child’s play for Wei Hanyun’s assistant.
When he found her, he observed her through the car window for a moment, unsure if this was the same woman he’d met days prior.
Zhong Ziyan was undeniably beautiful, but her charm was skin-deep—nothing more than cheap cunning. Wei Hanyun had his reasons for choosing someone like her.
Yet the Zhong Ziyan sitting by the shop window now had porcelain-pale skin, lazily eating ice cream while chatting with a group of girls. Despite her relaxed posture, an unmistakable aura of "don’t mess with me" radiated from her, setting her starkly apart from the crowd.
The assistant had met countless people, but aside from Wei Hanyun, he’d never encountered such presence. Frowning, he studied her a beat longer.
—Then Zhong Ziyan turned and met his gaze through the window.
The assistant froze: the glass was specially treated to block outside visibility. Anti-surveillance.
But Zhong Ziyan was already standing, waving off the reluctant girls before striding toward the car.
She stopped beside it, leaning down to rest a hand on the roof and arch a brow at him through the glass.
The assistant: "..." This defies physics. Time to replace the tint.
Clearing his throat, he rolled down the window. "Miss Zhong, please step back so I can open the door."
Zhong Ziyan didn’t move. "Did you bring a pen?"
"Miss Zhong, we can discuss the details inside—"
She crooked a finger at the file in his hand, her sharp, icy features softened by her languid tone. "Hand it over."
After a hesitant pause, the assistant passed her the documents and his own pen. "Miss Zhong..."
Zhong Ziyan flipped through the agreement, spending less than a second per page—more than enough time for her to absorb every clause.
One year. As long as she played the role of Mrs. Wei flawlessly, Wei Hanyun’s money was hers to spend. After the divorce, she’d walk away with no stake in the Wei empire—but she could keep everything purchased during that year.
Fair trade. No tricks.
The Wei family’s waters ran deep, but Zhong Ziyan wasn’t intimidated.
After years of poverty, all she craved was sudden wealth to flaunt. The rest didn’t matter.
She plucked the pen from the assistant’s hand and signed her name with a flourish. "We done here?"
The assistant: "..." Sudden compliance? There’s a catch.
But Zhong Ziyan had already slid the pen back into its cap. "When do I start spending Wei Hanyun’s money?"
The assistant: "..." So blunt? "Tomorrow, I’ll send someone to assist with your relocation and other arrangements."
Zhong Ziyan was disappointed.
Overnight riches were a myth. She’d have to wait another night.
Trash Mainframe.
"Got any cash on you?" she asked, settling for the next best thing.
The assistant: "..." Is she this broke!?
...
Zhong Ziyan didn’t care what the assistant thought as he drove off. Clutching the 2,000 yuan she’d squeezed out of him, she felt her soul ascend.
Back in the infinite space, food didn’t cost points—you could materialize anything with a thought.
But Zhong Ziyan never had time to eat.
When she wasn’t fighting for survival in missions, she was grinding to grow stronger.
A team leader too broke to afford high-tech comms gear—forced to exploit her psychic teammate’s skills—had no business savoring meals.
That premium double-scoop earlier had finally made her feel alive again.
Now, armed with her 2,000-yuan windfall, she returned to the ice cream shop and ordered one of every flavor, lining them up on the table to sample each.
Ah, the taste of luxury.
After meticulously finishing every scoop, she sauntered back to the counter and—under the wide-eyed gaze of the young worker—ordered another of her favorite, macadamia nut. Then she asked earnestly, "Is 2,000 yuan a lot of money?"
The little girl scooped a giant ball of ice cream onto a cone. "For rich people, this might be nothing, but it's almost half a month's wages for me."
Zhong Ziyan took the cone, licked it once, and handed over the remaining cash. "Thanks, keep the change."
Before the girl could react, Zhong Ziyan had already slipped past the next customer in line, not giving them a chance to call her back to return the money.
The main system had dropped Zhong Ziyan off near a small commercial street, close to her residence. As she strolled leisurely home, she noticed advertisements everywhere.
"618 Grand Sale" was plastered all over the place—it looked like a major shopping festival.
Zhong Ziyan remembered checking her phone earlier—the date was June 17th. Tomorrow would be June 18th.
Seemed like a spectacular spending extravaganza.
Zhong Ziyan felt the itch to splurge.
Back in her apartment, she pulled out her phone, searched around, and quickly downloaded a shopping app to register an account.
A flood of product recommendations instantly filled her screen.
Zhong Ziyan rolled onto her back on the sofa, eyes gleaming. "Heaven."
Royal truffle chocolates delivered via full cold-chain logistics, handmade Michelin-starred desserts… Proenza Schouler backpacks available for pre-order, Sophie Hulme square bags—same as the British princess… Hermione-style plaid trench coats, new-season Ferragamo square-toe pumps in lambskin…
Zhong Ziyan spent a solid two hours browsing through the app, only to be interrupted by a pop-up when she tried adding another item: "Your shopping cart is full."
She slowly scrolled back to check her overflowing cart—already packed with 120 items.
A tap on "Select All" revealed the total: 236,800…
Zhong Ziyan, who had just considered 2,000 a fortune, silently closed the app, feeling a little embarrassed.
Broke during her endless battles in the infinite space, and still broke after finally escaping.
I’ll kill the main system.
Holding onto the tiny hope of clicking "Checkout" with abandon tomorrow, Zhong Ziyan rolled over and drifted off to sleep on the sofa.
The next morning, the sound of footsteps outside jolted her awake. In one swift motion, she flipped off the sofa, landed behind cover, and gripped her phone—firm enough to be a weapon if needed.
If necessary, she could kill with just a phone.
A knock came at the door, followed by the assistant’s voice. "Miss Zhong."
Zhong Ziyan relaxed instantly: Oh, the money’s here.
Only then did she slip on her slippers and open the door, leaning against the frame. "Did you bring the card?"
The assistant: "…" Why was she still wearing yesterday’s clothes? "Yes, it’s the boss’s supplementary card. The limit—"
Zhong Ziyan only needed the first two words. She stepped aside to let him in and tossed her phone into his arms. "Set it up for me."
Her throw was casual, but the phone landed perfectly in his palm as if guided.
The assistant didn’t dwell on it. While the team behind him began packing for the move, he obediently downloaded a payment app for Zhong Ziyan.
He noticed her phone was almost suspiciously clean—only pre-installed apps and a single shopping app.
Was it new?
"Miss Zhong, it’s done."
Zhong Ziyan took the phone and looked up at him for confirmation. "I can spend however I want?"
The phrase "hundred-million-dollar mansion" suddenly flashed in the assistant’s mind. He frowned. "…If you intend to purchase anything excessively expensive, please consult me first."
Zhong Ziyan gave an "Oh," fiddled with her phone for a second, then directly dialed Wei Hanyun’s private number.
Wei Hanyun picked up with just three words: "What is it?"
"The card you gave me—can I spend freely?" Zhong Ziyan cut straight to the point.
"Freely." Wei Hanyun’s deep voice gave her two words before hanging up.
"He said ‘freely,’" Zhong Ziyan pointed at her phone and raised an eyebrow at the assistant. "Give me the shipping address."
The assistant numbly recited the address of Wei Hanyun’s newly purchased "marital home," already calculating how much money Wei Hanyun would burn through this year.
Meanwhile, Zhong Ziyan had reopened the shopping app, smoothly selecting all items and clicking checkout, her excitement surging like the adrenaline before a life-or-death battle.
[Your cart supports a maximum of 50 items per purchase!]
Zhong Ziyan: "…" Seriously, Tao?
With a sigh, she painstakingly split the order into three transactions, finally emptying her cart.
The assistant: "…Miss Zhong, how much did you spend?"
Zhong Ziyan mentally converted it to the ice cream girl’s wages. "A lot."
The assistant stepped outside, looking tense as he made a call. When he returned, his expression was odd. "Twenty-one thousand in total?"
Zhong Ziyan was surprised. "Huh, discounts." What a sale—so much money saved!
The assistant suddenly felt like an idiot from five minutes ago.
He gave Zhong Ziyan a look reserved for the very naive. "Have you eaten breakfast yet, or would you prefer to have it at the Tingshan villa?"
Zhong Ziyan held his gaze for a few seconds, then opened her browser and typed: Wei Hanyun’s net worth.
The first result was a recent photo of Wei Hanyun. Uninterested, she scrolled down until she found a string of numbers.
She counted three times.
Twelve digits. In dollars.
And 210,000 was just a measly six-digit figure.
Zhong Ziyan immediately forgave all the main system’s previous nonsense.
That minor flaw in the identity setup was completely negligible.
She promptly sent Wei Hanyun a text with devout sincerity: "Boss, rest assured—I have someone I like, and he’s married. When we divorce in a year, I won’t cling. During the agreement, just give the word, and I’ll handle anything."
