"I have quite a lot, but the dates aren't very fresh. Brother, do you want them?"
Meng Bufan felt completely at ease being called brother. Thinking back to the apocalypse, Fang Zhiyi always just called him by his name, which was annoying to look at.
"How can canned food go bad?" Meng Bufan knew very well. He had hoarded supplies back then, and all those cans were expired, yet they were perfectly fine, weren't they? In the apocalypse, a single can could be traded for a lot of good stuff.
Most importantly, they were cheap.
But just as he was about to ask more, the man came back. Seeing him talking to Fang Zhiyi, the man directly shoved him: "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"
Meng Bufan felt a bit of anger after being pushed, but he didn't dare to act out, so he resentfully sat back down in his own seat.
"For canned fruit, I can only give twenty a box. Canned meat is slightly higher, but not by much, since they're about to expire. I'm telling you, bringing out stuff like this makes it hard for me, brother." The man's words attracted Meng Bufan's attention once again.
He stared blankly at the boiling hotpot in front of him, his entire focus on the conversation between the two people behind him.
Twenty bucks a box? How many could he buy with that? He grew excited. This was way cheaper than his original plan of buying from the supermarket!
He didn't know much about business to begin with, so he immediately turned his head: "Friend, I'll take however many you have! I'll pay five bucks more per box!"
The man turned around in surprise: "Are you sick in the head? Do we even know you?"
Meng Bufan wasn't afraid. After all, he was someone who had seen the apocalypse: "He's willing to sell, and I'm willing to buy. What does it have to do with you?"
"You!" The man stood up abruptly.
Fang Zhiyi, however, spoke up: "Brother, if this gentleman is willing to buy, I can sell to him too. I'm happy to make a bit more money." Fang Zhiyi looked like he was in desperate need of cash.
"Exactly! Do you not understand the freedom of trade?" Meng Bufan raised his chin.
"I'll add another five bucks per box!" The man reached out, spreading his five fingers.
Seeing Fang Zhiyi's hesitant expression, Meng Bufan immediately said: "Then I'll add another five!" He had done the math. A box of canned food from the supermarket would cost at least fifty or sixty. Even at this price, he could save a lot. The most crucial part was that he was buying this from Fang Zhiyi. The thought of letting Fang Zhiyi watch him sell the cans later while being unable to eat them himself made him happy.
"Are you crazy!" The man grew furious, clearly angry that his chance to make money was interrupted by Meng Bufan.
Meng Bufan looked at him with some disdain. Idiot, he didn't even know that money would soon be useless.
Fang Zhiyi finally decided to sell to Meng Bufan. To avoid any complications, Meng Bufan signed a contract with Fang Zhiyi right then and there. Then, without even taking a bite of his hotpot, he followed him to a remote warehouse. After counting the cans in the warehouse, Meng Bufan's face bloomed with a smile. This warehouse full of food would last him a very long time!
Fang Zhiyi was such a fool, he even gave him several boxes for free!
Meng Bufan immediately transferred the money to Fang Zhiyi. Watching Fang Zhiyi leave in high spirits, he cursed, "Idiot."
Little did he know that as soon as Fang Zhiyi left his line of sight, he turned a corner, and the man who had been eating hotpot with him earlier popped out from nowhere.
"Brother Fang, you're amazing. How did you know someone would buy this batch of goods while we were eating hotpot?" The man was called Grey Dog; he absolutely refused to reveal his real name.
"Brilliant calculation." Fang Zhiyi was very satisfied. This way, he finally had some money.
"No wonder you asked me to help you buy a batch of discarded cans from people. But you sold them a bit too ruthlessly. We bought them for about ten bucks a box, and you flipped them for thirty-five?" Grey Dog was full of admiration.
"It's faster than you taking your old mother out to run scams, right?"
Grey Dog scratched his head: "Don't mention it, don't mention it."
He had no choice either. Whenever he and his mother were about to go to work, this Fang Zhiyi would show up right on time, making them unable to sit or lie down, and they just couldn't avoid him.
"Listen to me, next..."
Grey Dog listened to Fang Zhiyi with a confused look, his brows furrowing tighter and tighter: "Really? But... isn't it a bit harsh to keep fleecing just one person?"
"It's fine, he's an idiot." Fang Zhiyi's tone left no room for doubt.
Grey Dog's phone chimed. He picked it up and took a look; it was his cut of the money from Fang Zhiyi arriving in his account. He immediately nodded repeatedly: "Done! I'll listen to you!"
Having bought the canned food, Meng Bufan's money was more than half gone. There was no helping it; Fang Zhiyi just had too many goods. But Meng Bufan thought about it very clearly: money was soon going to be worthless anyway.
However, just canned food wasn't enough. He needed other things.
The list was clearly laid out.
Generators, gasoline, seeds, dehydrated vegetables, and some weapons he could manage to buy—there were still many things he needed to prepare.
But the money he had borrowed was clearly not enough.
Moreover, he still had to figure out how to transport these cans back to the apartment building where he lived to hide them, which would also take some effort.
Meng Bufan was lost in thought as he returned home, but as he opened his door, a card dropped down.
"Private loans, no credit check required!"
Meng Bufan's eyes lit up.
He really was the main character! Wasn't this exactly getting whatever he wished for?
Hiding at the end of the corridor, Grey Dog watched the kid take the advertisement card inside, and his admiration for Fang Zhiyi increased by several degrees.
A divine fortune-teller! Why didn't he go set up a fortune-telling stall?
Sure enough, the next day he received his commission. After calling to inquire, Meng Bufan resolutely took out a loan of a hundred thousand, completely disregarding the interest rate. As the introducer, Grey Dog also got a cut.
He wanted to share the money with Fang Zhiyi, but Fang Zhiyi had no interest in this small amount of cash.
His mind was entirely focused on the difficulty level of this apocalypse. Mutants with borderline abnormal vitality, having no superpowers... wasn't that a dead end?
However, Fang Zhiyi still assigned Grey Dog his next task. Grey Dog once again made an advertisement himself and stuck it near Meng Bufan's home. Sure enough, after two nuisance calls, came Meng Bufan's inquiry call requesting door and window modifications.
Grey Dog happily forwarded the business to his shady friends.
Over the following month, Grey Dog had become completely familiar with the routine. Fang Zhiyi didn't even need to give specific details anymore; as long as he mentioned something about moving or vegetables, Grey Dog immediately transformed into an all-purpose broker. Anyway, there was only one target customer—a fool with too much money.
And Fang Zhiyi also received a phone call.
"Why haven't you been coming to school lately?"
Fang Zhiyi slapped his forehead. His mind had been so full of thoughts about the apocalypse that he completely forgot he was still a student.
And the person on the other end of the line was the girlfriend he had secretly been dating, Hu Yuqian.
The original owner of the body hadn't done anything with her other than holding hands and passing notes.
"I'm busy, bye." Fang Zhiyi hung up the phone directly. He could understand human nature during the apocalypse, but from the perspective of the original owner, this Hu Yuqian was indeed quite obnoxious. After she sucked up to Meng Bufan, her attitude towards Fang Zhiyi had clearly changed a lot.
lity and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life. Yet he didn't know— The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king. The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it. The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him. Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds. Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along...
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
