"The temperature at the mountain peak is very low," Wei Hanyun continued. "Once the ice castle is built, it won’t melt for decades. After it’s finished, we can install a telescope here to see the castle from afar."
Zhong Ziyan silently reached over and confiscated his wine glass. "We’ve soaked in the hot springs long enough. Let’s just play video games instead."
Though she loved the thrill of spending money, Zhong Ziyan considered herself a fairly grounded consumer.
At the very least, most of the things she bought were practical—not an ice-carved, uninhabitable castle on a mountaintop.
The half-finished bottle of Pétrus was casually shoved into the fridge by Zhong Ziyan, who then squeezed Wei Hanyun a glass of fresh orange juice to sober him up.
Still dressed in his bathrobe, Wei Hanyun sat at the table, unable to let go of the earlier topic. "We could build it like an igloo, with cut ice bricks and water as the adhesive. It would be incredibly sturdy."
"No internet connection," Zhong Ziyan pointed out the practical flaw.
Wei Hanyun pondered for a moment. "But such a high peak would be a natural vault. You could store your gold inside, and from afar, the castle would shimmer with golden light. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?"
Zhong Ziyan: "..." It’s ridiculously extravagant, but I’m shamefully tempted.
To prevent Wei Hanyun from successfully convincing her, Zhong Ziyan pulled out the gaming console again. The two of them sat in front of gaming equipment worth over a million yuan and seriously played Monopoly.
Unlike yesterday’s Mario Odyssey, Monopoly was a competitive game with only one winner.
And it was also a game about business.
By the time Zhong Ziyan lost three consecutive rounds to Wei Hanyun, the sun hadn’t even set yet.
"You just had bad luck," Wei Hanyun consoled her.
Zhong Ziyan: "..." Right where it hurts.
There was a reason why her incredibly powerful team in the infinite space was always dirt poor.
For example, Zhong Ziyan’s team was cursed with abysmal luck.
If, after painstakingly clearing a labyrinth, a treasure chest filled with riches appeared before the victor—where others might find anywhere from a hundred million to a million—when Zhong Ziyan lifted the lid, she’d probably find a single coin.
Her terrible luck alone wasn’t the problem; the real issue was that her entire team suffered the same fate.
No matter how strong they were, they had no choice but to live like bandits, stealing equipment from their opponents.
Zhong Ziyan had once thought her recent spending sprees—like casually buying a hundred-million-yuan mansion—were extravagant enough. But compared to Wei Hanyun, she was still outmatched.
…She wondered if Wei Hanyun had given up on that mountain-buying idea yet.
"This is just a virtual game. It doesn’t count," Wei Hanyun suggested. "When you get tired of life here, I’ll take you somewhere."
—The place he mentioned was none other than the famous gambling city, Las Vegas.
Las Vegas was truly a place where fortunes were made and lost in an instant. Some had gambled away billions in mere hours, losing everything, while others walked away overnight as millionaires, riding on sheer luck and wit.
The entire strip seemed to pulse with an infectious frenzy. Just standing at the entrance of a luxury hotel, one could already sense the intoxicating allure of money and indulgence.
The city itself was small, and buying property there was less convenient than staying in a hotel. Zhong Ziyan had Hua Shuangshuang book the most expensive suite in advance, one with a panoramic view of the entire Las Vegas skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows.
Thanks to the towering height, even in this sleepless city of noise, the suite remained blissfully quiet.
Zhong Ziyan hadn’t brought much luggage when traveling from Cloud Island to Switzerland, and their trip to Las Vegas was just as light. Fortunately, the butler had arranged for some clothes to be sent from Tingshan in advance, and the hotel had stocked the suite with daily necessities based on his list.
When Zhong Ziyan opened the wardrobe in the suite, she found over a dozen outfits—all clearly in her size. "…Well then."
"Time to hit the casino," Wei Hanyun’s voice called out.
Zhong Ziyan closed the wardrobe door, hesitating. "This doesn’t seem like a good idea."
A few decades—or maybe centuries—ago (time was meaningless in the infinite space), Zhong Ziyan had been just as stubborn.
How could my luck possibly be this bad?
Time and experience had taught her: Yes, it absolutely can.
To Zhong Ziyan, a casino wasn’t a thrilling playground—it was a raging furnace that incinerated cash, checks, high-value bonds, and gold into nothingness.
If you knew you’d lose every single bet, even the most reckless gambler would find no joy in it.
"Don’t worry, I’ll teach you," Wei Hanyun said with a raised brow. "It’s simple."
Zhong Ziyan: "…" Losing money is simple!
In the end, she couldn’t refuse Wei Hanyun. Wearing the hotel slippers, she followed him into the casino attached to their luxury hotel.
The hotel’s lobby and hallways were already decked out in Zhong Ziyan’s favorite gilded opulence, but the casino’s interior outshone even that.
The walls and ceiling weren’t just wallpapered—they were plated in real gold.
Zhong Ziyan initially felt a spark of excitement, but then it hit her: the money she was about to lose would go toward maintaining this very gold.
Her enthusiasm promptly evaporated.
She began mourning the wealth about to be squandered by her curse.
…Even if it was Wei Hanyun’s money.
A waiter approached and handed Wei Hanyun a single golden chip. "Good luck."
Wei Hanyun passed it to Zhong Ziyan. "Go on, where do you want to start?"
Zhong Ziyan took the uniquely colored chip, curious. "Just one?"
"Just like how you only need one black card."
She understood—this was an unlimited chip, a symbol of status.
After a moment of hesitation, she headed for the simplest game: betting on high or low. Statistically, it was a fifty-fifty chance—the easiest odds.
Wei Hanyun didn’t interfere. He strolled leisurely beside her, waving off an approaching bunny girl, and watched as Zhong Ziyan bet on "low" six times in a row—and lost every single one to the dealer. He couldn’t help but chuckle.
Zhong Ziyan turned to him with a reproachful look. "I told you my luck is terrible."
"It’s just a streak," Wei Hanyun said, lightly ruffling her hair. "Try a few more times, and you’ll win."
To prove her point, Zhong Ziyan placed ten consecutive bets on "high."
The dealer rolled "low" ten times in a row.
The dealer, who was definitely not cheating: "…"
The growing crowd of onlookers: "…I’m betting the opposite of whatever she picks!"
Zhong Ziyan: "…" With rare melancholy, she tugged Wei Hanyun’s arm to escape the public humiliation. "Let’s try something else."
Wei Hanyun pointed at the roulette wheel. "Try that."
Roulette is a brutally simple game—thirty-eight numbers, multiple betting options. A ball is launched and lands in one numbered slot; if it matches your bet, you win.
Zhong Ziyan stood before the roulette wheel, lost in thought.
If I can’t even win a fifty-fifty bet, what are the odds with thirty-eight choices?
"Give it a try," Wei Hanyun urged, his tone almost coaxing, the playful lilt in his voice suggesting that watching Zhong Ziyan lose money was one of his little pleasures.
With no other choice, Zhong Ziyan picked three consecutive numbers.
The dealer smiled as she sent the ball spinning. It bounced around the wheel before finally settling—on a number nowhere near Zhong Ziyan’s selection.
Meanwhile, a blonde woman who had followed them from the high-low table had bet on an adjacent number and won a thirty-five-fold payout.
The woman squealed in delight, throwing her arms around the man beside her and planting several kisses on his cheeks before flashing Wei Hanyun a flirtatious glance.
Zhong Ziyan: "..." Damn it! I even used my enhanced super-brain to calculate the ball’s trajectory and force—how did it still land one slot off?!
—Since when have I, Zhong Ziyan, ever tried this hard to win money?!
Wei Hanyun ignored the blonde’s come-hither look. Instead, he placed his hand over Zhong Ziyan’s and pushed a stack of gold chips—symbols of high-stakes prestige—onto the "twelve" betting spot. "Borrowing my lucky number for you—one million," he told the dealer.
The dealer, ever professional, nodded with a polite smile.
Spectators, eager for drama, immediately piled their bets around the number twelve, the excitement in the air thick enough to rival New Year’s Eve.
Once bets were locked in, the ball was launched again. Under the crowd’s fevered gaze, it circled the wheel twice before rolling decisively toward twelve.
"Twenty-eight!"
"Thirty-five!!"
The onlookers roared encouragement for the neighboring numbers, already envisioning their sudden windfalls.
Zhong Ziyan, however, watched the seemingly sentient ball with detached calm, as if she could already see Wei Hanyun’s million dollars going up in flames—
Clink.
The ball dropped neatly into the "twelve" slot.
"—…What?"
"Congratulations—a straight-up win, thirty-five times the bet," the dealer said, applauding Zhong Ziyan lightly.
Zhong Ziyan: "…???" This defies all logic.
She turned to Wei Hanyun in stunned silence. He arched a brow at her, amused. "Lucky number."
The blonde woman, who had just won thirty-five hundred dollars from her hundred-dollar bet—only to lose it all on twenty-eight—huffed loudly and stormed off.
Recalling the woman’s earlier antics, Wei Hanyun playfully tapped his cheek.
Without hesitation, Zhong Ziyan stood on her toes and kissed him there. "Tell me more of your lucky numbers."
Wei Hanyun: "…" Not the reaction I expected.
