Chapter 1

Xichuan Province, Qing Shan City.

In the scorching afternoon heat, the cicadas on the street trees lazily chirped, signaling the mating season.

"Kid, your business is really a sure thing, isn't it?"

Outside the Lanting Jiayuan residential complex, a plump woman in a floral shirt sized up the young man who was settling her bill, her words tinged with dissatisfaction.

"Just making a living, small business. I'll round it up for you, 100 yuan, count it!"

The young man grinned, took a hundred-yuan note from the leather pouch around his waist, and handed it to the woman.

Behind the young man, a truck was parked, and two shirtless men were loading a pile of old furniture onto it.

"100 yuan, what's there to count! Kid, I'm not saying this to be mean, but you're really being too greedy..."

The woman took the hundred-yuan note, still harboring a grudge, "Not to mention, this washing machine, I bought it for over 3000 yuan, and you only give me 20. The TV, over 5000 yuan, and you only give me 50. The worst part is this sofa, real leather, bought for over 8000 yuan, and you even want me to pay you 200 yuan. You're really too greedy!"

Chen Muyu shrugged, clearly having encountered such sellers many times before, and just smiled, "Auntie, you're selling it as scrap, that's the price. Take the sofa, for example, regardless of whether it's fabric or leather, the key is that no one wants second-hand sofas now. I take it apart, and I can't even sell the parts. I'm helping you get rid of it. In this hot weather, it's not easy for me to make a trip. 200 yuan is for my trouble..."

"Alright, alright..."

Song Dafen waved her hand impatiently, interrupting Chen Muyu's rambling, "I'm really scared of you. If it weren't for the urgent need to renovate, I wouldn't sell to you at all!"

Song Dafen wasn't unaware. She had asked around before, and while appliances were still worth something, furniture was a different story. These scrap collectors were now picky, and you had to pay them to help you get rid of it.

In comparison, this young man, who only charged her 200 yuan for furniture disposal, was already quite fair.

A whole house of furniture and appliances, and she only got 100 yuan. It was truly depressing.

But there was no choice. Her son was getting married and needed the house renovated. The bride had requested everything to be new. To save on renovation costs, they didn't ask the renovation company to handle the old furniture and appliances, thinking they could sell them and make some money.

Who would have thought it would end up like this? If she had known, she would have let the renovation company handle it, which would have been easier.

With the renovation company set to start work in a couple of days, she had no choice but to sell, even at a loss. 100 yuan was still money.

What a world!

Chen Muyu smiled, "Auntie, if I'm not mistaken, there's a happy event coming up at home, right?"

At this, Song Dafen's expression relaxed, and she finally smiled, "My son is getting married this year, so I'm busy renovating the bridal suite."

"Wow, congratulations!"

"Congratulations? In this world, getting married is going to drain my savings!"

"Auntie, you're too modest. Your face says you're destined for wealth and honor..."

His smooth talk made Song Dafen happy, and her earlier frustration seemed to fade away.

"Tell me, kid, you're tall and handsome, why do something like this? Collecting scrap, what future is there in that?" the woman asked, posing a soul-searching question.

"Family business, can't help it!"

Chen Muyu wasn't embarrassed, and he joked back. By now, the truck was already loaded. "Alright, Auntie, we'll be off. If you have anything else to sell, just call me."

Before Song Dafen could say anything, Chen Muyu had already opened the car door, got in the passenger seat, and smiled at her through the window, driving away with a truck full of loot.

...

—

Dongcheng.

"Brother Shui, my dad just called. He said there's a pile of iron scaffolding at Uncle San's construction site that needs to be disposed of. Can you go check it out?"

In the car, Chen Muyu took a sip of mineral water and rubbed his temples. He had been busy since morning.

Running the scrap collection station, they made good money, but it was exhausting. He hadn't realized how hard it was until he graduated from university and, unable to find a suitable job, returned to take over the family business. Only then did he truly understand the meaning of hard work.

"Why don't you go?"

Yang Shui, a worker at the scrap station, was in his late thirties and a distant cousin of Chen Muyu. He was a sturdy man.

Glancing at Chen Muyu, Yang Shui shook his head. This young master seemed more like a fish out of water, not cut out for this line of work.

"My head is really hurting, I'll go back and rest!"

Chen Muyu massaged his forehead, his brows furrowed. He had felt unwell when they left the residential complex, and now it was getting worse. His head felt heavy, as if it were about to burst.

"Maybe you're heatstroke. There's Huoxiang Zhengqi Water in the car..."

Yang Shui handed a box of Huoxiang Zhengqi Water to Chen Muyu, "Your dad just wants you to get some exercise, to show up. Don't push yourself too hard. You're not like us workers, who only have endless strength and no hope of success. This is our life..."

Chen Muyu chuckled. Yang Shui had no other faults, but he was talkative and prone to complaining.

"Xiao Yu, do you know Old Wang?"

"Old Wang? The old man who often mixes ceramic pieces into cardboard?"

Yang Shui was talking about an old man who often came to their scrap station, said to be in his seventies, living alone and surviving by collecting scrap. His character wasn't great; he often mixed fake items into his scrap. Chen Muyu had met him a few times and, feeling sorry for him, turned a blind eye as long as it wasn't too excessive.

Yang Shui's mention made Chen Muyu realize he hadn't seen Old Wang for a few days.

"Did he die?"

Chen Muyu added, reflecting on the inevitability of life and death, even among those he knew.

"Die? He's doing just fine!" Yang Shui shook his head, "That old man must have had some good luck. He found a pair of blue-and-white porcelain vases in a scrap pile and sold them for over 3 million yuan at Qin Family Tower. Can you believe it? How did he get such a stroke of luck..."

3 million yuan?

Chen Muyu was surprised, then shook his head and smiled, "No wonder I haven't seen him for a few days. But is it reliable? Who told you?"

"It's all over the industry!" Yang Shui shook his head, looking regretful, "That old man even wanted to adopt me as a godson. If I had known, I would have called him my real father..."

"It's not too late!" Chen Muyu was amused, "This is fate. If it's meant to be, it will be. If not, don't force it..."

In the scrap business, life was tough, but there were always surprises. You never knew when you might find something valuable and turn your life around.

Yang Shui kept talking, but Chen Muyu's headache was getting worse. He drank a bottle of Huoxiang Zhengqi Water and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes to rest. Soon, he was lightly snoring.

...

Suddenly, there was a loud bang in his head. Chen Muyu felt something crack in his mind, and he entered a state of weightlessness. Everything around him was collapsing, and he felt as if an invisible force was lifting him higher and higher, farther and farther.

It was pitch black, with only a few specks of light. He shouted, but there was no echo.

Where was this? A dream? Space?

He felt like he was floating aimlessly in a void, surrounded by darkness. He knew he was dreaming, but he was still quite conscious. He pinched his face, but it didn't hurt.

He wanted to wake up, but it was no use. He struggled, but couldn't feel his body, as if he were experiencing sleep paralysis.

They say what you think about during the day appears in your dreams at night. He hadn't dreamed of money or beauty, so why was he dreaming of this darkness?

He floated, gradually adapting to the darkness. With the help of the distant specks of light, he could see something.

In the far distance, there was a gray, hazy area, like a ring of dust.

As he moved closer, a dark shadow appeared in the mist. Chen Muyu felt a bit uneasy, imagining some kind of monster might burst out of the mist.

The shadow didn't give him time to be nervous. It quickly broke through the mist and revealed its true form.

A mountain.

A mountain that looked several hundred meters high, slowly floating towards him.

The mountain was black, like an inverted cauldron. From a distance, Chen Muyu could smell a musty, decaying odor.

Was this really a dream? He could smell things in his dreams?

He pinched his face again, but it still didn't hurt.

As the black mountain drew closer, Chen Muyu's heart raced. Instinct told him to get closer and take a look.

It was just a dream, what was there to fear?

Curiosity got the better of him, and he steeled himself to move closer.

...

The mountain was about 500 meters high. Up close, it was even more imposing, with a wide, flat area at the base.

The flat area was cluttered with bottles, cans, waste paper, and other debris, like a garbage dump.

Looking up, the mountain was black and covered with all sorts of scrap metal, broken bottles, and cans.

It wasn't exactly smelly, but the decaying odor was all too familiar.

Was he dreaming about his old job, collecting scrap in his sleep?

His face twitched, and he couldn't help but laugh. Was this really what he thought about during the day?