DLRC – Chapter 6 Successful Withdrawal

Questions from fans were still floating across the phone screen when Yu Wei, startled, whipped her head around—only to see Yu Hui sitting silently on the bed, staring at her. She was so frightened she immediately exited the livestream.

The little guy had just woken up, but Yu Wei didn’t know how long he had been awake. He didn’t call out to her, didn’t say a word—just sat there, quietly watching.

Yu Wei quickly tucked her phone back into her pocket and went to sit on the edge of the bed. Seeing the dryness of his little lips, she asked gently, “You’re awake. Want some water?”

Yu Hui looked into her eyes and gave a slight nod.

Smiling softly, Yu Wei reached out to tousle his soft short hair, then picked him up from the bed and carried him outside the room to fetch a cup of water.

The little guy gulped down nearly half a cup in one go. His tiny mouth couldn’t fully cover the rim of the enamel mug, and the warm water trickled from the corners of his mouth down his neck. Yu Wei gently lifted her hand to wipe it clean.

After he finished drinking, Yu Wei sat quietly beside him. Outside the window, the silhouettes of children running back and forth flashed by, their laughter filling the air. Her hand instinctively slipped into her pocket.

There was a phone in there. A real phone. It wasn’t her imagination.

Not only had she time-traveled to the 1980s, but her phone had traveled with her…

“Huihui, do you want to go outside and play with the other kids?” Yu Wei turned to look at him. The little guy was watching her too. Despite the sounds of children laughing and playing outside, he showed no reaction.

Still no response. Still no words. Yu Wei sighed. She had considered carrying him outside to join the others—being alone in a room must be boring.

But then she suddenly remembered what had happened that morning—the kid named Da Niu had pushed Yu Hui to the ground, causing his head to bleed. Yet his eyes had remained hollow, like a puppet that felt nothing.

Something was off. Really off. This child… could he have a psychological disorder?

Autism? Or something else?

She had encountered quiet and introverted children before, but never one quite like Yu Hui. Usually, there would be some expression, some verbal response. No matter what, they wouldn’t be completely mute and emotionless.

She couldn’t figure it out. It was frustrating. After all, she had only been here for less than a day. She didn’t understand a lot yet—it would be best to observe a little longer before jumping to conclusions.

Given how mysterious the phone was—no signal, no data, yet still capable of livestreaming—Yu Wei’s curiosity got the better of her. She moved Yu Hui to another small bed so he could entertain himself, then quickly pulled out her phone again to explore.

But when the screen lit up, what she saw shocked her once more.

Battery: 100%?

What was going on? She had just used the phone for a full half hour, including a power-draining livestream. Yet the battery hadn’t dropped at all?

Perplexed, she tapped on the “My Page.” Her follower count hadn’t changed, but when she checked her balance, it no longer read “0”—it now showed “10.”

What?

Wasn’t that from the “Little Rainbow” gift just sent by the user “Fish Head”? After a 50/50 platform split, she should’ve received exactly 10 yuan. And now, even though she was physically in the 1980s, the money had still landed in her account.

Well, if something as outrageous as time travel could happen, then this wasn’t that surprising by comparison.

In that instant, a spark of inspiration flashed in Yu Wei’s mind—she suddenly remembered all those transmigration novels she’d read before.

This phone… it was her cheat. Her golden finger. The essential tool for transmigrators!

So this was it?

Although she didn’t yet know the full extent of its power, she was already excitedly exploring every feature of the “Jiumi Livestream” app.

The most tempting feature, obviously, was “Money.” She tried tapping the withdrawal option—even though she knew that amounts under 100 yuan couldn’t usually be withdrawn, she still gave it a hopeful try.

[Withdrawal initiated successfully. Please wait.]

Even though she was mentally prepared for it to fail, her eyes widened in disbelief when five seconds later—

[Your balance has been successfully withdrawn.]

It worked?!

Yu Wei was stunned. Suddenly, her pocket felt a little bulky. She reached in and pulled something out—

A few crumpled bills?!

With trembling hands, she counted them. One yuan in total!?

The spark in her heart was almost instantly snuffed out. She was sure she hadn’t misremembered—there was no way she confused “10” for “1” in a matter of seconds.

In her confusion, she noticed a tiny line of text below the withdrawal section. She slid the screen and leaned in close to read it:

[Withdrawal formula: Amount automatically divided by 10. No handling fee.]

So… that meant even if she earned 100 yuan, she’d only get 10 in cash?

Yu Wei rubbed her forehead in frustration. But then she remembered—this was the 1980s, where resources were scarce and prices were dirt cheap. Even 10 yuan had the purchasing power of 100 in the modern day. Which meant—

She had just earned her first bucket of gold in the 1980s through livestreaming!

Only heaven knew how elated Yu Wei felt in that moment. With all sorts of ideas bubbling in her head, she finally regained her confidence to live in this era.

But… how long had little Huihui been watching her?

The battery still hadn’t dropped from 100%, so Yu Wei had fiddled with her phone the entire afternoon. When she finally rubbed her eyes and stretched, she saw that Yu Hui was still in the same position, playing by himself, unmoved.

Her heart ached a little. She silently berated herself for neglecting the child. He really was unusual—not only did he entertain himself, but he didn’t even seem to find it boring. It must be that this lonely kind of life was his norm.

She glanced out the window. The few mischievous brats had long since vanished, leaving the room in peace.

Not long after she put her phone away, Yuan Guifang returned from work with Jiang Min in tow. The moment they entered the house and saw Yu Wei and Yu Hui idling on the bed, her mother exploded, brandishing a feather duster and charging straight at her.

Yu Wei reacted quickly, dodging out of the way and scooping Yu Hui up before heading outside. Yuan Guifang didn’t dare hit the child, so she didn’t swing again.

“I told you to go apologize to Factory Director Luo! Don’t tell me you just sat here all afternoon?!”

“Yeah.”

Yu Wei placed Yu Hui on the ground by the courtyard gate. Perhaps from sitting too long, he wobbled a bit at first. Yu Wei held onto his little hand so he wouldn’t fall.

“You’re really trying to drive me to an early grave!” Yuan Guifang flung the feather duster into the corner with a loud snap. Her expression fierce, her anger made Yu Wei flinch.

She looked down at Yu Hui—but his eyes didn’t so much as flicker. He was numb, as though he had long grown used to such scenes.

“Go now! Yu Wei, get to the garment factory and apologize to Director Luo this instant!”

Her yelling echoed through the entire courtyard. The ten or so families living nearby, exhausted from a day’s work, all peeked out to watch the commotion. Even the kids were hiding behind doors, quietly enjoying the drama of Yuan Guifang scolding her daughter.

Yu Wei hadn’t really encountered this kind of unreasonable and hot-tempered woman before. Frowning, she didn’t feel like arguing head-on, so she replied irritably, “I got it. Can you stop yelling? I’ll go tomorrow.”

And she really did mean to go tomorrow.

But her reason for going? Naturally—to make things clear with Director Luo and resign.

She had no interest in that stupid office job at the garment factory!

Especially not if it meant buttering up to that old man. The thought alone made her skin crawl.