Chapter 1: The Night Everything Changed
---
The crystal chandelier cast a warm golden glow across the marble floor.
Lee Feng kept his head down, balancing a tray of half-empty wine glasses as he moved between tables. The restaurant —Jade Pavilion — was one of the most expensive establishments near South University Square. A single meal here cost more than what he made in a week.
His uniform was a crisp white shirt and black vest. Second-hand. The cuffs were slightly yellowed despite countless washes. His black shoes were scuffed at the toes, but he polished them every morning before his shift. It was the only part of his appearance he could control.
"Table 7 needs water," Manager Zhou's cold voice crackled through the earpiece. "Don't keep them waiting, Feng. Those are VIP customers."
"Yes, Manager."
Lee Feng grabbed a pitcher of filtered water. His legs ached from six hours of standing. His lower back throbbed. Classes from 8 AM to 2 PM, then straight to the restaurant for the evening shift. By the time he returned to the hostel, it would be past midnight.
Just one more semester, he told himself. One more semester, and I graduate.
His parents had died in a car accident when he was twelve. No inheritance. No relatives willing to take him in. Scholarships, part-time jobs, and the kindness of strangers had kept him alive. Now, in his third year of college, he was still barely scraping by.
But he had three good roommates who never looked down on him.
And he had Zhao Xia.
His girlfriend of two years. Long black hair. Skin like porcelain. A smile that could melt the coldest heart.
She was his light in the darkness.
Or so he believed.
---
"Lee Feng?"
The voice froze him mid-step.
He turned toward Table 7.
And his heart stopped.
Zhao Xia sat in the center seat, wearing a silk red dress that probably cost more than his entire monthly salary. Her hair was perfectly curled. Her makeup was flawless.
Beside her sat three people Lee Feng recognized immediately.
Wei Chen — the heir to a local real estate fortune. Tailored navy suit. A Rolex that flashed under the chandelier every time he moved. His arm was draped casually over Zhao Xia's chair.
Su Meng — Zhao Xia's best friend. Daughter of a textile factory owner. Sharp face, sharper eyes.
Han Jun — trust fund kid. Family owned several nightclubs. Lean, handsome in a dangerous way.
And now they were all staring at him.
At the waiter.
At their waiter.
"Zhao Xia..." Lee Feng's voice came out hoarse. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."
Wei Chen raised an eyebrow. "You know this guy, babe?"
Zhao Xia's lips curled into a smile. But it wasn't the warm smile she gave Lee Feng in private.
This was different.
Cold. Calculated. Predatory.
"Know him?" She laughed—a light, musical sound that cut deeper than any knife. "Wei Chen, this is Lee Feng. My ex-boyfriend."
Lee Feng felt the ground shift beneath his feet.
Ex?
"We broke up last week," Zhao Xia continued, waving her hand dismissively. "He's been blowing up my phone ever since. It's honestly pathetic."
"I... we never..." Lee Feng stammered. "You never said—"
"See?" Zhao Xia turned to her friends, her eyes gleaming. "This is what I was telling you about. He just can't let go. Follows me everywhere. Even got a job at this restaurant hoping to run into me."
Su Meng snorted. "Seriously? He's a waiter?"
"A broke one at that," Zhao Xia added. "He asked me to marry him last month. Can you believe it? With what money? His part-time salary?"
The table erupted in laughter.
Lee Feng stood frozen, the water pitcher trembling in his hands. His vision blurred at the edges.
"We never broke up," he whispered. "You never said anything."
Zhao Xia's expression hardened. She stood up, walked around the table, and stopped directly in front of him. Her perfume—expensive, floral—filled his nostrils.
"Look at yourself, Lee Feng," she said, loud enough for nearby tables to hear. "Second-hand uniform. Shoes falling apart. You can barely afford your hostel rent, let alone take me on a proper date."
She poked his chest with a manicured finger.
"I've been using you."
The words hit him like a slap.
"What?"
"I said—I've been using you." Zhao Xia smiled. "You paid for my meals. You bought me gifts with your pathetic savings. You did my homework. You were useful."
She paused.
"Now? You have nothing left to give."
Wei Chen stood up and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Baby, why are you even explaining yourself to this loser?"
"Because it's fun," Zhao Xia said, her eyes never leaving Lee Feng's face. "Look at his expression. He really thought I loved him."
Su Meng laughed. "A dog loves its owner too. Doesn't mean the owner loves it back."
Han Jun leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Fetch, boy. Go get us more water."
The table exploded in laughter again.
Lee Feng's hands shook violently.
The water pitcher slipped from his grip and shattered on the marble floor.
CRASH
The restaurant went silent.
Every head turned toward him.
Manager Zhou came storming out of the kitchen, his face purple. "FENG! What is the meaning of this?! These are VIP customers! Do you know how much that pitcher costs?!"
"I'm sorry, Manager Zhou—"
"Sorry? SORRY?!" Manager Zhou grabbed Lee Feng by the arm. "You're cleaning this up with your own money. And if I get one complaint from these customers, you're FIRED!"
Zhao Xia watched the entire scene with a satisfied smile.
Wei Chen slipped a hundred-yuan bill onto the table. "Here. For the trouble. Some people just don't know their place."
Lee Feng knelt down, picking up the broken glass with his bare hands. A shard cut into his palm. Blood mixed with water on the white marble.
He didn't feel the pain.
All he felt was the weight of two years of lies crushing down on him.
The gifts bought with his last pennies. The late nights helping her study. The times he had gone hungry so she could eat at nice restaurants.
Used.
She had used him like a tool. And now that he was empty, she had thrown him away.
As he picked up the last piece of glass, Zhao Xia's voice reached him one more time.
"Oh, and Lee Feng?" she called out, loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear. "Wei Chen just deposited ten million yuan into my account as a *gift*. Ten. Million. That's more than you'll earn in your entire lifetime."
She laughed.
"So go ahead. Keep working as a waiter. Keep being poor. Keep being nothing."
---
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Boast Detected.
Source: Zhao Xia
Content: "Wei Chen just deposited ten million yuan into my account as a gift."
Classification: Direct monetary boast.
Transferring 11,000,000 CNY (10,000,000 + 10%) to Host...
Source: Overseas holding account (generated)
Tax status: Paid (auto-deducted)
Legal trail: Established
Transfer Complete.
New Host Balance: 11,000,000 CNY
Previous Balance: 23.50 CNY
---
A cold, robotic voice echoed inside Lee Feng's skull.
"Boast absorbed. Funds transferred. System online."
Lee Feng froze.
His bloodied hand hovered above the wet marble floor.
A translucent blue panel materialized in front of his eyes—floating in the air like a hologram, visible only to him.
[SYSTEM STATUS]
Host: Lee Feng
Current Balance: 11,000,023.50 CNY
Active Boasts Absorbed: 1
System Tier: Level 1
He blinked.
The panel didn't disappear.
Slowly, trembling, he pulled out his phone. His fingers were slick with blood and water. He opened the banking app.
The screen loaded.
Available Balance: 11,000,023.50 CNY
Eleven million.
He refreshed the page.
Available Balance: 11,000,023.50 CNY
Still there.
Behind him, Zhao Xia was still laughing with her friends. Wei Chen was ordering a bottle of wine that cost eight thousand yuan. None of them knew.
None of them could see the blue panel floating in front of Lee Feng's face.
"First suggestion," the cold robotic voice announced. "Leave this place. You are no longer required to serve."
Lee Feng stood up slowly.
His palm was bleeding. His uniform was soaked. His knees were wet from kneeling on the floor.
He looked at Zhao Xia's back—her perfect red dress, her perfect hair, her perfect life built on the backs of fools like him.
Then he looked at his phone again.
11,000,023.50 CNY.
"Manager Zhou," Lee Feng said, his voice steady. "I quit."
Manager Zhou's jaw dropped. "WHAT? You can't just—"
But Lee Feng was already walking toward the door.
He didn't look back.
Behind him, Zhao Xia's laughter continued.
She had no idea what she had just done.
---
The night air hit Lee Feng's face like a slap.
He stood outside Jade Pavilion, breathing heavily. The neon signs of South University Square blinked around him—kebab stalls, phone repair shops, a 24-hour convenience store. The usual crowd of students and vendors moved past him, oblivious.
He looked at his bloodied palm.
Then at his phone.
Then at the blue panel still floating in his peripheral vision.
"You have questions," the system said. "I will answer three. Choose carefully."
Lee Feng's throat was dry. "Who... what are you?"
"Designation: Wealth Absorption System. Origin: Unknown. Function: Detect boasts of wealth or status from any individual within hearing range of the host. Convert boast into tangible assets transferred to host."
He processed that for a moment.
"And the money? Where does it actually come from?"
"Generated from parallel financial streams. Legal documentation auto-created. Tax liabilities auto-paid. No traceable link to host. No entity will investigate. If investigation occurs, system will intervene."
Lee Feng looked at the restaurant door. He could still hear Zhao Xia's laughter through the glass.
"Can she get it back?"
"Negative. Transfers are irreversible."
The panel flickered.
"Three questions exhausted. System will now provide guidance. Your current balance: 11,000,023.50 CNY. Recommendation: Secure funds. Establish base. Identify future boast sources. Zhao Xia is no longer relevant. She has nothing left to offer."
Lee Feng stared at the panel.
Zhao Xia was no longer relevant.
Two years of his life. His savings. His dignity. All of it gone.
And now, with one careless boast, she had handed him eleven million yuan.
He almost laughed.
Almost.
---
The walk back to the hostel took twenty minutes.
Lee Feng didn't take the bus. He needed to think. The night market was still crowded—students buying cheap electronics, couples sharing plates of fried noodles, vendors shouting over each other.
He kept his bloody hand in his pocket.
The system panel had disappeared after his third question, but he could feel it waiting. Like something alive. Watching.
His hostel was a three-story building behind the university library. Twenty rooms. Shared bathrooms. A landlord who raised the rent every six months because he knew students had nowhere else to go.
Lee Feng's room was on the second floor. Number 204.
He climbed the stairs slowly. His legs still ached from the restaurant shift. His palm throbbed.
He stopped outside the door.
Through the thin wood, he could hear voices.
Wang Tao: "Where the hell is he? His shift ended an hour ago."
Liu Yang: "Relax, bro. Maybe he got held up. You know how Manager Zhou is."
Chen Wei: "Something's wrong. He always messages if he's late. Check his location."
Lee Feng pushed the door open.
Three faces turned toward him.
Wang Tao—broad shoulders, close-cropped hair, fists clenched like he was ready to fight someone. The loyal one. He had saved Lee Feng from bullies twice in first year.
Liu Yang—lanky, messy hair, a half-eaten pack of chips in his hand. The comic one. Always joking, even when things were bad.
Chen Wei—glasses, neat clothes, laptop open on his bed. The smart one. The planner.
They were the only people in this college who had never looked down on him.
"Feng!" Wang Tao was on his feet instantly. "What happened to your hand?"
Lee Feng looked down at his palm. The blood had dried into a dark crust.
"Nothing," he said. "I'm fine."
Liu Yang tossed the chips aside. "Bro, your hand is literally bleeding. That's not 'nothing.'"
Chen Wei stood up slowly. His eyes weren't on Lee Feng's hand. They were on Lee Feng's face.
Something in his expression had changed.
"Feng," Chen Wei said quietly. "What happened?"
Lee Feng walked to his bed and sat down. The mattress sagged under his weight. The ceiling fan creaked above him.
He looked at his three roommates.
His only friends.
"I need to tell you something," he said. "And you're not going to believe me."
Wang Tao crossed his arms. "Try us."
Lee Feng took out his phone and opened the banking app.
He turned the screen toward them.
Wang Tao leaned in. Frowned. "Is that... is that eleven million?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Liu Yang laughed nervously. "Bro, nice photoshop. You almost had me."
"It's not photoshop."
Chen Wei walked over and looked at the screen. Then at Lee Feng. Then back at the screen.
"Refresh the page," he said.
Lee Feng refreshed.
Available Balance: 11,000,023.50 CNY
Chen Wei stepped back. His face was pale.
"That's real," he whispered. "That's actually real."
Wang Tao grabbed Lee Feng by the shoulders. "Feng. Where did you get eleven million yuan? Tell me you didn't do something stupid."
"I didn't do anything," Lee Feng said. "Zhao Xia did."
Liu Yang's eyes widened. "Zhao Xia? Your girlfriend? What does she have to do with—"
"Ex-girlfriend," Lee Feng corrected. "She dumped me tonight. At the restaurant. In front of her new boyfriend and his rich friends."
He told them everything.
The humiliation. The laughter. The broken pitcher.
And then—the boast.
"Wei Chen just deposited ten million yuan into my account."
He didn't tell them about the system. Not yet. He couldn't. They would think he had lost his mind.
He just said: "After she said that, I checked my account. And the money was there."
Wang Tao's face darkened. "She's trying to buy you off? Pay you to disappear?"
"I don't know," Lee Feng lied. "But I'm not giving it back."
Chen Wei sat down heavily on his bed. His analytical mind was already working.
"If this money is real—and it looks real—you need to be careful. Transfer it to a different account. Don't spend anything yet. We need to figure out if there are legal consequences."
Liu Yang scratched his head. "Bro, can I just say... this is insane. Like, movie-level insane."
Lee Feng nodded slowly.
It was insane.
But it was also real.
---
Later that night, after the others had gone to sleep, Lee Feng lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
The system panel materialized again.
[SYSTEM STATUS]
Host: Lee Feng
Current Balance: 11,000,023.50 CNY
Active Boasts Absorbed: 1
Next Boast Detection: Active (always listening)
"You have not asked," the cold voice said, "but I will tell you anyway. Zhao Xia's boast was one of many you will hear. Every boast makes you stronger. Every liar pays you tribute. This is your power now."
Lee Feng closed his eyes.
He thought about Zhao Xia's face when she had called him a dog. He thought about Wei Chen's hundred-yuan tip. He thought about Su Meng's laugh. Han Jun's smirk. Manager Zhou's grip on his arm.
So many people had looked down on him.
So many people had made him feel small.
"Rest now," the system said. "Tomorrow, you begin."
Lee Feng opened his eyes.
"Begin what?"
But the panel was already gone.
---
[End of Chapter 1]