Chapter 5: Chapter Five: Only Those with Yuan Qi Are Ferryed

After pondering deeply for a while, he still had no direction; even pulling out a few hairs didn’t help, and his thoughts only grew more tangled.

The idea of a chat app didn’t last long in his mind before being successfully filtered out—not because it couldn’t be tested, but because it contradicted his first instinct.

Since he was starting from ads, the more exaggerated the better, and it had to deliver instant results; the scope could be narrowed slightly to reduce search time.

Alright, still no clarity. If so, let fate decide—just search the keywords.

‘What app can make you money instantly?’

Search results appeared quickly; the top entries were several prominent ads, but their exaggeration wasn’t extreme, and they still required at least a day—expecting immediate results was clearly delusional…

‘Huh? Is this thing… conscience-customized?’ While listlessly scrolling through ads, a simple piece of software and its ad copy caught his eye; though he couldn’t yet be sure it had any special ability, it perfectly made up for his failure to find anything else—it was tailor-made for him, as if destiny had handed him a pillow just as he was falling asleep—perfect timing!

‘Earn Money by Watching Ads’

The software’s name was crystal clear: an ad-watching app, with a straightforward description.

‘One ad equals one earning. Tap your fingers, gather funds, let’s set sail together—join us in embracing a heart born for ads! Come on, our big family is waiting for you!’

Alright, even though it sounded like a middle-schooler’s rant, it perfectly matched his selection criteria—no doubt about it. Whether the internal claims were exaggerated didn’t matter much; this ‘conscience-driven’ app would clearly flood users with even more ads and information—he didn’t care if it infected his phone. He decisively downloaded it. This app had solved his indecisiveness, so he owed it his support—and it would also test his theory.

‘Ding!’ The app installed instantly, taking up negligible memory—even less than a chat app. Anyone else would’ve refused to install it and deleted it immediately; such a tiny app must be ad-based. Didn’t Lan Yue download easily? What’s the difference? It’s just ads plus virus—dangerous stuff.

The boy thought differently—he needed these unreliable things to aid his experiment. After two prior incidents, though still skeptical, he couldn’t stop his curiosity; he was determined to see it through to the end.

He tapped ‘Continue Installation’ and waited quietly, eager for his answer immediately so he could calm his turbulent mind—like opening a blind box: thrilling and tense.

Installation was swift. After completion, a gacha game offering an SSR popped up—but its appeal was low, so he tapped the X outright.

The phone’s security app chimed in too, warning this was a high-risk app; continued use might bring uncontrollable consequences.

Left side: dull gray ‘Ignore Risk and Continue Using.’ Right side: bright red ‘Uninstall Immediately.’ If the left took up one-third of the screen, the rest belonged to uninstall. Had his finger been faster, he might’ve deleted it—but the boy, familiar with these old tricks, calmly tapped ‘Ignore.’ From this moment, finally, he could begin exploring the unknown power.

The ad app opened successfully.

His eyes met a flood of down-to-earth banner ads: miracle cures, herbal wisdom—everything imaginable, overwhelming in variety. Without close inspection, one might actually believe them; the ads didn’t just exaggerate—they cited obscure ancient texts to lend false credibility, making deception flawless. This boss could be called the grandfather of advertising—he was simply too good at marketing.

He didn’t know why this hadn’t been dug up and exposed from afar, but he knew well: gold always shines. Soon, people would like (or rage at) this behavior. Better to stay quiet and get rich quietly—avoid the hassle.

‘Which one first?’ The boy set down his phone and rubbed his hands together. He could barely contain his excitement. If he didn’t run the experiment now, he feared he’d go mad. He’d held back all this time, but the closer he got, the more his tension mounted. He forgot his earlier calm—his palms were slick with sweat, the collision of hope and anticipation making him fidgety. Luckily, school forbade boys from having long hair; otherwise, he’d have been first in line to become ‘Sadako.’

Want to become an esports pro? Want to be the master who controls the battlefield? Want to earn your own victories with your own hands? Join us! In just three days, a fully skilled esports player will be born. If you believe in us, call this number: 143XXXXXXXX. We’re always ready for you!

‘Ever met a troll? Yes, I am one. Annoyed you can’t argue back? Struggling to communicate properly with opponents? Professor Guotai is teaching you what you need. Tuition isn’t 88,000, isn’t 66,000—it’s 170,000. Yes, you heard right: only this small amount grants you Professor Guotai’s full teachings. Won’t you sign up? I’m talking to you—hurry up, come watch the professor’s brilliance. Guaranteed to teach you everything!’

‘In ancient times, Shen Nong tasted hundreds of herbs; today, divine doctors question the world. After eight thousand years, countless elders fell to pave the way for future generations. But now, people ignore this solemn medical heritage. By resolution, hundreds of medical luminaries have preserved their ultimate arts, hoping to find their destined heirs. As their descendant, I am proud—so here, I freely offer these teaching videos. May those who master them never forget their original intent and uphold their duties. Thank you all.’

No more jokes. The boy’s gaze never left the app on his screen. This ad banner wasn’t negligible like the app’s memory—it dominated the screen. If he didn’t scroll, he’d be stuck with just this one ad forever. Indeed, paying for placement made all the difference.

Why say that? There was a tiny line of text reminding him… Well, even without reading it, he could guess: if you didn’t pay, you’d only appear on the banner if you were incredibly compelling. Money might be called worthless trash, but its solid status and value couldn’t be denied—this was unquestionable. Buying traffic was ordinary, nothing to overthink.

He ignored all the tricks and scrolled down. This first ad clearly wasn’t suitable for his experiment—better to swipe past fast, or he might start doubting reality.

Even if it sounded dazzling, he couldn’t truly believe it. What if the experiment failed and he ended up in debt? Total disaster.

A fully skilled esports player in three days? Normal people wouldn’t believe it. If not for searching ads, he wouldn’t have downloaded this app drowning in them. Too bad—so far, nothing has delivered a truly sharp, instant effect.

He swiped past the second ad immediately. To call someone a fool so pompously? He sent a silent salute and moved on.

When the third appeared, he felt his blood boil. The sincerity was clear—it was free! He knew there was no such thing as a free lunch, yet his finger clicked anyway. Now it was dinnertime—so a free dinner wasn’t so bad, huh!

Huh? As he tapped in, he suddenly realized—he’d been tricked.

The screen displayed, in bold red text on white background, a dozen characters and a string of numbers—exactly this detail made him consider backing out…

[Hello, dear user. This video has entered the paid zone. To purchase, pay 10 million Guangbi.]

The screen then switched to a login interface. He hadn’t logged in yet—yet the previous price still left him dazed. It took him a long while to snap back and exit everything.

Before finding the right ad, he wouldn’t log in—avoiding leaks before his experiment was complete.

Though he didn’t know how Lan Yue had known his info, caution was still necessary. Sure, he’d invited the virus in—but his heart remained in the light. The two didn’t conflict.