Entertainment: A song that brought his deceased wife back to life.

"What...what else do you have to say!"

Zhou Yan roared, his voice sharp but his tone weak.

"Data doesn't lie!"

"You're the kind of person who'll do anything to become famous..."

He hadn't finished speaking.

The big screen suddenly went black.

then.

A rapid series of keystrokes echoed throughout the venue through the speakers.

Crackle, crackle.

It was like a downpour hitting roof tiles.

"What happened?"

"Is there a power outage?"

"Did that bastard Zhou Yan pull the power switch?"

The audience was puzzled.

The big screen lit up again.

But this time.

It's no longer that cold, impersonal Excel spreadsheet.

Instead, it's a bright red interface.

That kind of red.

It's the red that Chinese people are most familiar with.

It looks like a Spring Festival couplet.

It also looks like a marriage certificate.

Or perhaps... a thank-you note.

"Connecting to a third-party data source..."

"Cracking Star Emperor Entertainment's firewall..."

"Retrieving data from the Red Cross's backend..."

Lines of code flashed by quickly.

Inside the VIP box.

Luo Tianxiong slammed his teacup heavily on the table.

"Are you bullying my son-in-law?"

"I think he's tired of living."

Old Zhang stood to the side, holding a tablet computer, his fingers swiping rapidly across the screen.

"Sir, the Red Hacker Alliance has taken over."

"All data has been retrieved."

It's being released.

Luo Tianxiong sneered.

"Give him a lesson."

"Let him know what real capital is."

……

on the stage.

Zhou Yan's heart skipped a beat as he looked at the large screen that had suddenly turned red.

A very ominous premonition welled up in my heart.

"Turn it off!"

"Turn it off now!"

"Where are the tech team?! Are they all eating shit?!"

No one cares about him.

The door to the technical department had long been blocked by several bodyguards in black.

The image on the big screen suddenly changed.

The first picture.

It is a remittance slip.

The time was one year ago.

Amount: 1.5 million.

Recipient: Daliangshan Hope Project Command Center.

Note: Donated to build the second "Little Fish Hope Primary School".

The entire audience was stunned.

The second picture.

The time is two months later.

Amount: 1.5 million.

Recipient: Guizhou Mountain Area Education Foundation.

Note: Donated to build the second "Little Fish Hope Primary School".

The video started to speed up.

One remittance slip after another flew out like snowflakes.

Each one was stamped with a bright red official seal.

That cannot be faked.

Number 3.

Number 4.

Number 5.

……

Up to number 18.

Every school is named "Little Fish".

"What...what is this?"

The fat audience member who had just been shouting for a refund dropped his glow stick on the ground.

The video continues.

It's no longer about building schools.

Instead, it was various disaster relief donations.

[A donation of 300 million yuan to the earthquake relief command center. Note: Praying for my wife.]

[A donation of 50 yuan to the Children's Leukemia Relief Fund. Note: May the world be free of disease.]

[A donation of 200 million yuan to the Rare Skin Disease Research Center. Note: This is an act of merit.]

Every huge sum of royalties went into Xu Qing's account.

It hasn't even warmed up yet.

Within three days.

These funds will then be transformed into donations, flowing to the places in the country that need them most.

There was no publicity whatsoever.

There was no hype whatsoever.

They didn't even leave their names.

It has only one simple code name: Bluefish.

Or a gentler way to put it: Mr. Xu donated on behalf of his beloved wife, Xiaoyu.

The scene was eerily quiet.

The deathly silence was even more oppressive than when Zhou Yan had just made his revelation.

It was a breathtaking shock.

Some people started to do the math.

One stroke, two strokes, three strokes...

Those astronomical figures of income.

In the end, they all turned into red stamps on donation slips.

Not a single penny was left.

Really.

Not a single penny was left.

The last picture has appeared.

That was the real-time balance query interface of Xu Qing's worn-out bank card.

The account that was just being attacked by Zhou Yan as a "billionaire".

The numbers above are:

【36.50 yuan】

Thirty-six yuan and fifty cents.

They can't even afford a bowl of beef noodles with a little bit of meat.

This explains why he would live in the basement.

Why would he eat those instant noodles that cost 2.5 yuan a pack?

Why would he haggle with the owner over a few dollars when treating his friends to a meal at a roadside stall?

Because he really had no money.

He lived his life like an ascetic.

He gave all his flesh and blood to all living beings in this world.

All for the sake of accumulating a tiny, intangible act of good karma for the girl he thought was dead.

"Snapped!"

A crisp slap echoed from the audience.

The fat man who had just shouted for a refund slapped himself hard across the face.

That slap was extremely hard.

My face swelled up instantly.

"I'm fucking inhuman!"

The fat man cried like a 200-pound child.

"They donated their lives, and I'm still here calling them a liar."

"I'm so damn stupid!"

It wasn't just him.

Countless people at the scene lowered their heads.

That sense of shame burned on their faces like fire.

In the live stream room.

Those abusive comments vanished instantly.

Instead.

The screen was filled with "I'm sorry".

Densely packed.

Layer upon layer.

It's like it's going to flood the screen.

Zhou Yan was stunned.

He stared blankly at the "36.50" on the big screen.

This number is like a sharp knife.

It plunged deep into his heart.

It also intruded on the face of so-called capital.

"No...it's impossible..."

"This is not scientifically sound!"

"How can there be such an idiot in this world!"

"Having money but not spending it? Having money but not enjoying it?"

"Did you donate them all?"

"Is he crazy?!"

Zhou Yan screamed in despair.

His values ​​have collapsed.

In his world, people die for wealth, and birds die for food.

No one ever complains about having too much money.

No one would give up tens of millions of dollars for a dead person.

"It must be fake!"

"This is photoshopped!"

"This is the Luo family trying to clear his name!"

Zhou Yan grabbed the microphone, trying to make a last-ditch effort.

But the microphone is not working.

Several uniformed police officers had somehow gotten onto the elevator platform.

"Mr. Zhou Yan, is that right?"

"I'm from the Economic Crime Investigation Division."

"We have received a report that you are suspected of massive commercial bribery and embezzlement."

"This is an arrest warrant."

"Come with us."

The cold handcuffs clicked shut.

They locked Zhou Yan's still-bleeding hand.

It also locked away all his ambitions and schemes.

When Zhou Yan was dragged away.

He was still frantically shouting, "He's a madman! He's a madman!"

Xu Qing stood on the stage.

He watched as Zhou Yan was dragged away.

His expression remained unchanged.

It was as if none of this concerned him.

He doesn't care what others think of him.

He didn't care whether anyone knew what he had done.

He only cares about one thing.

That money.

Has it actually been transformed into a school building in the mountains?

Is there any medicine that can be turned into a life-saving drug?

Is there any way to provide a warm cotton-padded coat for children who were once as helpless as he was?

"Big Pillar".

Xu Qing suddenly spoke up.

Wang Dazhu quickly came over, his face covered in tears and snot.

"Brother, why are you so silly!"

"That's so much money!"

"That's eighty million!"

"Our village couldn't earn this much money in several generations!"