I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2625 - 1640: Memories Revived by Corpses

"Why isn’t it hot dry noodles?"

After washing up, Fang Qing opened the takeaway bag and took out some soybean milk and a bowl of noodles.

Burning noodles.

The soybean milk was still hot.

"Didn’t we have hot dry noodles yesterday? I thought the noodles here tasted pretty good."

"How do you know?"

"I checked online reviews."

"Doesn’t the hotel provide free breakfast?"

Fang Qing asked, even though she’s become part of the elite, she hasn’t forgotten her roots.

Jiang Chen, who turned on the TV again as Qing Mei washed up, laughed, "Aren’t you going to check the time? It’s almost time for lunch."

Hmm.

The hotel’s free breakfast comes with a time limitation.

Fang Qing moved a chair, "It’s raining so much, you went out to buy it yourself?"

How would a normal person respond at this time?

Most certainly by going with the flow, saying how tough it was braving the wind and rain, but having witnessed Fang Qing’s integrity, Jiang Chen perhaps felt ashamed to lie.

"Ordered delivery."

No wonder you’re so clean.

It’s just—

"Then why did you go out?"

"The hotel doesn’t allow delivery upstairs."

Alright then.

But wasn’t the girl caught last night also delivery?

Fang Qing isn’t someone to nitpick; on such windy and rainy days, waking up to a steaming breakfast, what more could one wish for?

Fang Qing sat down, "What about yours?"

"I’ve eaten."

Jiang Chen, neatly dressed, sat at the edge of the bed watching TV, "I thought you wouldn’t get up so early, so I ate in the lobby downstairs and chatted with the hotel staff."

Fang Qing’s lip subtly curved upwards.

True care isn’t sugary words, but melts into the embrace of silent, subtle details.

"What did you talk about?"

Fang Qing opened the seal.

"Talked about the police arrest last night."

Jiang Chen chuckled, "The hotel staff said despite not allowing delivery upstairs, they usually turn a blind eye. Because of last night’s incident, they had to start enforcing it strictly."

"Would the hotel staff casually discuss this with outsiders?"

"You know my strong affinity."

Jiang Chen glanced sideways at Qing Mei, relaxed in a bathrobe with a casual leg crossed, "Oh yeah, I’ve extended the room for another day."

Fang Qing brushed aside her hair and focused on eating noodles, didn’t ask why, and someone explained voluntarily.

"Check-out is at noon here; I wasn’t sure how long you’d sleep, so I’ve extended the room. Plus, the weather isn’t suitable for going out."

A bout of rain, trapping me here...

If the TV played ’Chinese Paladin’ now, the mood would be perfect, but it’d be the first version. The subsequent ones are just dog-tail extensions; simply put, they’re trash. But both ’Chinese Paladin’ and ’Princess Pearl’ are stories from twenty years ago, not likely to be rebroadcast.

"Is it tasty?"

"It’s okay. Better than the hot dry noodles here."

Jiang Chen nodded with a smile, "Great minds think alike, though I still think it’s not as good as Ah Fei Noodle House."

"Do you want to eat a bit more?"

Fang Qing looked up.

"Thanks, I’m full."

Fang Qing seemed to lack appetite and stopped eating after about half.

"Not feeling well?"

Jiang Chen asked tentatively.

"Not too hungry."

Fang Qing took the soybean milk, got up, then lay back on the bed.

Jiang Chen understood.

Someone who hasn’t rested well won’t have much appetite; he was the same.

Did the two of them sleep for five or six hours last night?

Experts and media surprisingly began promoting that adults only need six hours of sleep to achieve ideal health status.

Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.

No need for debates; it’d be simple for advocates of this theory to practice it with their whole families first, no need for long, just a month’s demonstration as a start.

To encourage the workforce to work more, they forsake their shame.

"Slurp."

Fang Qing lie back in bed, leaned on the headboard, sucking the straw of the soybean milk and watching TV.

Actually, the happiness of life is sometimes just so ordinary and simple.

"What are you watching?"

Jiang Chen held the remote, aimlessly changing channels.

"Whatever."

Fang Qing asked, "When did you get up?"

"A bit after ten."

"Aren’t you tired?"

Jiang Chen forced a smile; his actual sleep time last night was less than Qing Mei’s. Soon after lying down, Qing Mei quickly slept, but he stared off into space for who knows how long.

"Yeah, I was woken by your call. Thought it was Uncle Fang, hurriedly got up, only to find it was a damn spam call."

"Haha."

Fang Qing chuckled, sipping the warm soybean milk, "If you haven’t done anything guilty, there’s nothing to fear from knock-knock ghosts, nothing to be scared of."

Jiang Chen didn’t say a word, turned his head, and gave a thumbs up, "Heroine."

Fang Qing, neither proud nor impatient, covered her mouth and yawned.

Jiang Chen looked away and lowered the TV volume, "If you’re sleepy, just go back to sleep."

"Wouldn’t that be a waste of life?"

Jiang Chen couldn’t help but laugh. This girl, how did she start learning from him?

"A few hours ago, weren’t you the one advising me? You made a good point. Is there really a definitive purpose in life? Is working hard really more meaningful than a good night’s sleep?"

Fang Qing was noncommittal and took another sip of soy milk.

"Let’s have something exciting."

"Horror movie?"

Fang Qing nodded repeatedly, her moist eyes filled with anticipation, "Sure, it’s been a long time."

More than just a long time.

It must have been many, many years.

"The horror movies these days aren’t much to look at. They’re all about pretending and in the end, it’s either a revenge by relatives or a mental disorder."

"How about watching Wolf Warrior?"

Jiang Chen suggested.

This guy, though not a party member, is quite patriotic.

If a standard room were the norm, with two male comrades staying in it, unable to go out on a rainy day, watching a main theme movie to pass the time wouldn’t be a problem, but Fang Qing is female.

"Not interesting."

"Wolf Warrior’s not interesting?"

Jiang Chen was surprised at Qing Mei’s blunt assessment, "Have you watched it?"

"Not the whole thing, just clips."

After a pause, Fang Qing added, "But I know tanks have rearview mirrors."

Jiang Chen was about to say something but choked, then chuckled quietly, giving up on persuading her.

"Let’s just watch a horror movie."

She hasn’t changed after all; even as a kid, she loved horror movies. While other girls were crying their eyes out over Korean dramas like "Autumn in My Heart" and "Heavenly Stairs," she was snacking on seeds, focused on the terrifying zombies in Hong Kong films.

To be honest, his courage has definitely grown. Only Jiang Chen knows that his childhood nightmare wasn’t doing advanced tutorials, but being dragged by Qing Gege to watch movies together. That sour thrill... As a man, he couldn’t show fear, and though he was terribly scared, he had to act composed. Heaven knows how many nightmares that led to.

"Didn’t I tell you already? Horror movies nowadays are all about smoke and mirrors."

"Who said you have to watch the current ones? Why not the older ones? Or foreign ones?"

Fang Qing noticed something and asked, "You’re not scared, are you?"

Actually, now Jiang Chen wasn’t as concerned about saving face as he was as a kid, but the main thing is, he’s braver now.

As a kid, he was genuinely scared, but he gritted his teeth and didn’t want to admit it. But now—

"Do you know Duanmu and what she does? Even Sadako would have to tie her hair back and march with pride. I’m at least half her disciple."

"Ahem..."

Fang Qing choked on her soy milk, coughing repeatedly, her face flushed. Jiang Chen hurriedly got up, patted her back, "Are you okay?"

Fang Qing caught her breath, "So, are you watching or not?"

"Since you want to watch, let’s watch."

"If you don’t want to, just forget it. Don’t act like you’re sacrificing for someone else, no pressure."

"What do you mean sacrificing for someone? This is called nonchalance."

Jiang Chen pointed at his face, giving an expression lesson, "If your eyesight is failing, get glasses early."

Fang Qing didn’t bicker with him, "Let’s watch a comedy instead. Mr. Xing’s."

"Each one I’ve watched at least ten times. Aren’t you tired of it? Let’s watch a horror movie, it fits the weather."

Jiang Chen sat back on his bed, grabbed the remote and pointed it at the TV, "But the TV probably won’t show old horror movies, right?"

"Are you stupid, can’t you screen cast?" Fang Qing said straightforwardly.

Alright then.

Jiang Chen put down the remote, picked up his phone, "What should we watch?"

"Is ’Mountain Village Corpse’ okay?"

Qing Gege’s prowess lies precisely here, just as she used to, seemingly asking for input but not really giving any other option.

Hearing these words, Jiang Chen’s expression froze for a split-second.

Like most people, this classic horror movie was also his childhood shadow. He managed to grit his teeth through other horror movies, but this one... Back then, VCDs were popular; Fang Qing rented the disc from a shop, and we watched less than halfway through before Jiang Chen made an excuse of a stomachache to go home to the bathroom and never came back.

Western horror stimulates the senses.

Chinese horror strikes the soul.

And Chu Renmei is arguably the pinnacle of Chinese horror.

At that time, when Fujiwara Reiki was spooking around at Hengsheng Group Headquarters, performing for Boss Jiang, this horror movie’s BGM was playing.

Else, Boss Jiang wouldn’t have had sweaty palms; it wasn’t the masterful performance by the long-lost Teacher Xiang Tian, it was purely that his DNA was stirred from deep within.

"Didn’t we watch it before?"

"Just because we’ve seen it doesn’t mean we can’t watch it again? It’s been so long, I’ve nearly forgotten. Plus, it seems we didn’t finish it, right?"

"Yes, back then you had a stomachache and were in the bathroom for ages, so I went home."

Qing Gege’s memory may not be perfect, but hearing someone’s words, a look of contemplation flashed in her eyes without questioning.

"Let’s agree, we’re finishing it today."

WHO’s afraid of WHO?

Jiang Chen deliberately found a high-definition version, then took off his shoes, reclining against his bedhead, and to achieve the best effect, he even turned off the lights, including the bedside LED strips.

Outside the room.

The wind howled eerily.

The rain lamented mournfully.

"In a remote mountain village, there is an ancient and terrifying legend.

Some say, a horrific event happened here; some say, this land was stained with blood, and restless souls linger; still others say... at midnight, if you comb your hair in front of a mirror, you can see her—

A woman with long hair, pale face, and bleeding eyes...

She’s back..."

As they watched the screen-projected scene on TV, accompanied by a low, slow narration, when a group of people appeared in a room playing games, the memories of death instantly resurrected. With the TV light reflecting on their faces, the two lying on their beds didn’t look well.