Bitcoin is the myth of digital currency. When it was born in 2009, it was even cheaper than the copper coins in many browser games. With a limited total supply and suitability for various transactions, it became very popular in the international market. By the end of December 2017, its price had soared to a peak of $19,850 per coin—its appreciation rate was simply jaw-dropping.

You could say that if someone were to be reborn ten years ago and bought 1,000 bitcoins, eight years later they would become a multimillionaire. Of course, it would be best to sell all of it before December 2017, otherwise, the price would drop again.

One more thing: be careful not to get scammed. Digital currency scams are also a favorite trick among many fraudsters.

Chris Bolton was once young too, having browsed all the major male-oriented web novel sites. He couldn’t count how many protagonists became interested in Bitcoin after being reborn, and now it just so happened to be 2010...

Thinking of this, the child’s expression became excited.

Money—this is money! Money within reach!

Upon hearing this, Grace Bolton's expression turned serious: “Xiaoyu, did you secretly use mom’s computer to play games again? Didn’t I tell you, it’s fine to play games after finishing your homework, but you need to know your limits. Don’t spend money on them, that’s just stuff manufacturers use to trick kids...”

Ian Foster tried to persuade her from the side: “Oh, the money in games doesn’t really cost much. Xiaoyu ranked in the top five in the whole grade for the final exams this time, which is a huge improvement. He deserves a reward.”

As he spoke, he made the decision: “What boy doesn’t play games? Xiaoyu, how do you buy that Bitcoin? Dad will buy it for you!”

Grace Bolton was displeased: “Hey! How can you spoil the child like this?”

Ian Foster retorted: “How am I spoiling him? Xiaoyu works really hard, doesn’t he? Xiaoyu, how much of your winter break homework have you finished?”

Chris Bolton: “...Uh, I finished it.”

Ian Foster slapped his thigh: “See? I told you Xiaoyu is hardworking and sensible. Alright, just wait, Dad will buy you ten thousand bitcoins.”

Chris Bolton finally remembered that, for as long as he could remember, his family had always been the “kind father, strict mother” type. His stepfather’s philosophy was that as long as the kids didn’t break the law and grew up healthy and happy, he’d happily spoil them as much as he could.

As for Grace Bolton, she was just tough-mouthed. As long as the kids studied well, it was easy for her to give in.

Even when Ian Foster, under Chris Bolton’s guidance, entered a forum where bitcoins could be purchased and realized this thing wasn’t game currency, bitcoins in 2010 were really worthless. Ian Foster happened to have some spare cash and wanted to spend it on his child, so...

Chris Bolton watched as he posted a thread to buy bitcoins and opened a trading account, his expression going blank as a barrage of thoughts flashed through his mind.

Not even three months after being reborn, he suddenly realized he was already on track to become a billionaire;

No wonder so many people want to be reborn—the benefits are just too good;

Dad, I love you;

Dad, I’ll love you forever;

Dad, although I already decided long ago to be filial to you, I swear again now that I’ll be filial to you for a lifetime!

After seeing the first bitcoins credited to the account, Chris Bolton was practically floating as he walked. Deborah Foster had no idea what was going on with his big brother, so he just reached out his chubby hand and pulled him into the bathroom.

“Bro, Mom made ginger soup for us to soak our feet. Come on, let’s go soak together.”

As he spoke, he brought over two small stools and pressed Chris Bolton down onto one. If Chris Bolton hadn’t snapped out of it in time, the obedient Deborah Foster would have already started taking off his brother’s shoes and socks.

...

In short, Chris Bolton is a very ambitious person. Even with a ton of bitcoins coming in, it didn’t stop him from chasing his dreams and fulfilling his promise to his uncle—to be his ice boy.

At 6:30 in the morning, the alarm went off. Deborah Foster got up and went into his big brother’s bedroom. After calling for just two minutes, Chris Bolton managed to break free from the seal of his blanket and get up.

Ian Foster was up early, heating up soy milk and meat buns bought from outside, peeling fragrant marinated tea eggs, and even peeling an apple each for himself, his wife, and the two kids.

Grace Bolton urged the two children: “Hurry up and eat. Xiaoyu, have you packed your ice skates? Remember to bring an extra jacket to the rink. Er De, where’s your violin case? Did you put your sheet music in?”

Deborah Foster mumbled in reply: “I’ve got everything ready. I checked yesterday.”

Chris Bolton hadn’t prepared anything; he’d been too happy about the bitcoins yesterday. Deborah Foster answered for him again.

“Bro is ready too.”

Chris Bolton turned his head and saw Deborah Foster winking at him, with a “I already packed for you” look of pride.

Grace Bolton could tell what was going on between her two sons just by looking at their faces. She rolled her eyes and, before seven o’clock, sent Chris Bolton to the entrance of the neighborhood, where Jack Bolton had already arrived in his car to pick him up.

This provincial team coach drove a plain, unremarkable second-hand Jinbei van. Its only advantages were being cheap and spacious.

Then, when they arrived at the destination, Chris Bolton realized he’d been tricked—the ice boys were all under ten years old, and he was the oldest among them.

Jack Bolton ruffled his hair and laughed heartily: “It’s fine, you’re short now, so pretending to be a little kid isn’t a problem.”