Chen Mo, who was worth billions, died at the hands of his best brother and his favorite woman.
When the poison in the red wine took effect, he was pinned down on that wool blanket and was not even qualified to stand up.
On his deathbed, a voice asked him: Can we reopen the country for the trillions that we cannot take away?
Do.
When he opened his eyes again, he went back to the year when he graduated from college - no money had been brought, brothers were still good brothers, and green tea had not yet entered the market.
There is only a transparent light curtain in his mind that only he can see: [Lucky System: Once a day, choose one of three prices]
Want money? Can. Winning five million, but the same amount of bad luck, you have to give it to one person.
Want to save trouble? OK. There is zero cost, but the system has the final say on how to redeem it - whether you want to get rich or go to the hospital and open a blind box.
Want to lend a hand? Better. If good luck does not fall on you, designate someone to win for you.
Others rely on memory to be reborn, while Chen Mo relies on multiple-choice questions to be reborn.
He wrote down the debts from his previous life one by one: brothers, women, and the "collector" who hid behind the two of them and preyed on the trillion-dollar crocodile.
Ding - good luck has arrived today, please choose your price.
