Chapter 1: Why Am I Playing Mahjong When I

At ten at night, the smell, smoke, and sweat in the mahjong parlor were nauseating; the clatter from each table mixed with greed, fear, and hope, creating a tense, exhausting atmosphere.

In this atmosphere, Feng Xue stood out sharply from the others—he assessed the situation with precision, moved with restraint; compared to those gamblers with bloodshot eyes from losing, a small mountain of chips had already piled up beside him.

His eyes bore heavy dark circles; years of sleepless nights had left him looking utterly drained.

Such physical state usually appeared in gamblers who lived day and night in addiction—but in Feng Xue's weary gaze, not a trace of greed could be found; no, that gaze held no focus at all—he seemed like a machine devoid of joy or sorrow, endlessly repeating the cycle of drawing and discarding tiles.

Suddenly, the mechanical youth straightened his back—and at that exact moment, the opponent who had just drawn a tile turned ashen.

He stared at the red five-dot tile in his hand, then looked up at Feng Xue's exposed discards, clearly forming a pure dot hand, and cold sweat slipped uncontrollably from his temple.

Yet, having declared riichi, he had to discard whatever he drew—even knowing this tile would almost certainly cost him the hand—he gritted his teeth and slammed it onto the table.

"Man kan, man kan, man kan, man kan..."

He silently prayed the young opponent would win with a smaller hand; he dared not even hope for a mixed one-color—yet as the red five-dot touched the table, it was as if a great bell had exploded in the silence.

A look of profound relief flickered across Feng Xue's mechanical face; his neatly arranged hand toppled like dominoes, and with every tile striking the table, it sounded as if a colossal wave crashed against a cliff.

"Yu Wuli, Rong, Pure Nine Gates Treasure Lantern, double yakuman."

"What?" The opponent's eyes seemed to spurt blood—he leapt to his feet—but Feng Xue calmly gathered his chips into his backpack, emotions long suppressed finally breaking free.

Seeing that stunning hand, the gambler thought of the sum he had just lost, and blood rushed to his head—he blurted out without thinking:

"Brat! You dare win with a pure nine? Watch out—you've only nine years left to live!"

The moment he spoke, the once-noisy mahjong parlor fell utterly silent; every gaze turned toward him, many gamblers abandoning their own games just to witness the rare Pure Nine Gates Treasure Lantern.

Then, a single, moderate cough echoed—and everyone immediately stepped aside; soon, the parlor's owner walked forward slowly, meeting the gambler's gaze levelly, his tone calm yet heavy with pressure:

"Everyone's here to play—what to say, what not to say, must be done with restraint..."

The gambler, flushed with adrenaline moments before, turned icy cold and stammered:

"S-sorry, Mr. Chen, I only meant it in the heat of the moment..."

"Forget it, Uncle Chen. I don't believe in that stuff anyway." Feng Xue placed his full bag of chips on the table and smiled at the imposing owner.

"Same as always—thirty percent for everyone's late-night snacks, the rest just deposit into my account."

With that, he let out a huge yawn and walked out of the parlor, reeking of smoke, amid the complex stares of the patrons.

Did he really not believe it?

He believed it too much!

Watching the number above his head jump from 43 to 3287, Feng Xue nodded in satisfaction—

"That's exactly my goal!"

The cheerful youth returned home, collapsed onto his bed—and all of this began half a month ago...

"Shit! How the hell did I wake up in another world?"

Feng Xue stood bewildered in the bathroom, staring at his familiar yet alien reflection—a face still youthful and unrefined, etched with disbelief.

But more than the younger version of himself in the mirror, he fixated on the golden number hovering above his head—

60.

"What the hell? A cheat system? My remaining life?" As an insider (a web novel writer), Feng Xue was accustomed to reincarnation and cheat systems—but as he pondered, the number above his head flickered... then changed to 59.

"Oh shit, we're done."

Feng Xue pulled out his phone, checked the time: 00:00. The heart that had been burning with excitement over reincarnation and a cheat system instantly turned cold—he now prayed only that 59 meant days, not hours or minutes.

Whether from mental stress or simply waking up (after reincarnation), he felt his vision slightly blurred, as if something had smeared his glasses.

Before he could rub his eyes, as his focus sharpened, a new field of vision suddenly unfolded.

It was a third-person over-the-shoulder view, with visibility range and breadth matching his natural eyesight—but its position was adjustable: any point within a two-meter radius centered on the midpoint between his eyes could serve as the viewpoint, yet the line of sight must always face directly toward the center of his eye line.

In this over-the-shoulder view, he still saw the number above his head—but now, a small "lock" icon appeared before it.

"Could this thing lock my lifespan?" A spark of hope rose in Feng Xue—he immediately activated the lock—but instantly realized he'd acted impulsively; yet as soon as the thought passed, the lock opened again.

"Oh, so I can lock and unlock it anytime?"

Feng Xue was surprised, but didn't dwell on it. Since reincarnation and lifespan had become facts, dwelling on the past was useless—he needed to find a way out.

After briefly adapting to the "over-the-shoulder view," Feng Xue locked his lifespan and began a meticulous, obsessive investigation—like a completionist scouring every corner of a game.

Though he hadn't inherited the original body's memories, thanks to the internet age and biometric authentication, he could log into the former owner's online banking via fingerprint, retrieve his various accounts through browser password saves, and once he found his ID card, changing bank passwords became trivial.

In the following days, after discovering the "lock" function of the over-the-shoulder view couldn't halt lifespan decay, he began scouring this world—superficially resembling a light novel setting—for ways to extend his life.

He started with hospitals, then temples and Taoist monasteries; along the way, he developed an almost instinctive grasp of time conversion between days and years, and even grew familiar with the abstract cheat system.

Yet truly reliable solutions were scarce.

Until, on the fourth day after reincarnation, he saw on the news a professional mahjong player—the first in history to declare a Pure Nine Gates Treasure Lantern in an official match—whose head bore an unusually high number:

3286.

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ps: Congratulations to the readers who noticed the little detail! How long did it take you to spot it?

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(End of Chapter)