Jiang Ning, the fiancée who assumes the role of a down-and-out merchant, is given a death order by the system: "Make the male protagonist Shen Yan spend a thousand taels on others within three years."
Jiang Ning took a look at all his belongings - seven copper coins and a house full of debts.
The first task: let him buy a candied haws. Shen Yanzhi and the stall owner cut down from three cents to two cents and then put together half a piece. Finally, the stall owner cried and said to him: "Stop talking!" He came back holding the candied haws in hand: "Look, I didn't spend any money." The system ruled it invalid.
The second time: Let him invite friends to dinner. He brought out clear soup noodles and charged each person two cents for "firewood." The system decides it is invalid.
Jiang Ning changed her strategy. She helped him tie up brooms every day, and he tied up a bunch of loose brooms, and she received two and a half cents as wages. She returned the money to him: "Treat me to a meal." He hesitated for a long time, spent two and a half cents to buy a handful of vegetables and cooked a bowl of plain noodles, and gave her half of the bowl to drink the soup himself. System pop-up: +0.25%.
One thousand taels in three years? The Year of the Monkey and the Month of the Horse.
But he began to bring her things by the way: a piece of candy and half a piece of cracked tofu. Later, he picked up a yellow dog and refused to eat the leftovers. He secretly bought meat buns and drank porridge for three days. The system progress bar keeps rising.
The next year Jiang Ning fell ill, and he carried her to three medical clinics, emptying the money box and still having five taels left. The next day, there was medicine on the bedside and a pawn ticket spread out in hand - the hairpin that was his mother's only relic. I pawned six taels and bought two chickens by one tael more. System pop-up: +6%.
In the third year of floods, refugees poured into the city. He took out half a bag of stored grain to make porridge and didn't sleep for three days. The refugee knelt on the ground and called him "Living Bodhisattva". He corrected him with a straight face: "It's Mr. Shen. Bodhisattvas don't keep accounts."
