The first night after NT$1 million hit his account, Chen Yaoting didn't sleep.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he was too excited.
He opened his banking app, closed it, opened it again, and repeated the process at least twenty times.
1,003,722.
The number seemed glued to his eyes.
He'd fantasized about suddenly winning the lottery before.
He'd imagined scratching a jackpot on a scratch-off ticket someday.
He'd wondered what would happen if the stocks in his hands suddenly went up tenfold.
But those had all been fantasies.
This was different.
The money was really in there.
First, he transferred the rent.
NT$15,000.
Then he paid off the minimum due on his credit card.
After that, he stared at his personal-loan app for a long time.
Remaining principal: over NT$400,000.
He almost pressed the button to pay it off early.
But he stopped.
Not because he couldn't bear to part with the money.
He'd just suddenly realized that NT$1 million wasn't nearly as much as he'd imagined.
When his account held only a little over NT$3,000, a million dollars had seemed astronomical.
Once he actually had it, he immediately started doing the math.
If he paid off all his debt, he'd have only a little over NT$300,000 left.
That would disappear if he bought a car.
He couldn't afford to move to a better rental, either.
But there was still NT$100 million coming in seven days.
The thought made him laugh.
“Fuck, what am I saving for?”
He paid off his entire credit card balance.
Then he caught up on his motorcycle loan.
Just watching the red overdue notices disappear one by one gave him an inexplicable rush.
It wasn't the rush of buying things.
It was the feeling of finally stomping out the things that had been chasing him for so long.
A little after one in the morning, he went to a convenience store.
The night before, he'd still been sitting in the same spot eating discounted rice balls.
Tonight, he walked in without calculating the price of anything.
He took a bottle of imported sparkling water.
A box of sashimi that cost over NT$300.
Then he bought a chocolate bar he usually thought was too expensive and never bought.
The total came to over NT$600.
When he swiped his card, it was the first time he hadn't looked down at the amount.
The feeling was actually very small.
So small it was almost laughable.
But standing at the counter, Chen Yaoting suddenly understood something.
The first moment of being rich wasn't a mansion or a sports car.
It was being able to buy something without first thinking, “How much do I have left for the month?”
When he got home, he opened a rental-housing website.
He scrolled upward from apartments costing a little over NT$10,000 a month.
NT$30,000.
NT$50,000.
NT$80,000.
Eventually, he was even looking at luxury residences in Xinyi District, Taipei, costing over NT$200,000 a month.
Floor-to-ceiling windows across an entire wall.
Two parking spaces.
Twenty-four-hour management.
A gym.
A rooftop pool.
In the past, he would have swiped past places like these immediately.
They simply belonged to a world that wasn't his.
Now he actually started studying the floor plans.
“This one's nice.”
Lying on his bed, which creaked every time he turned over, he looked at an eighty-ping living room on his phone.
The image was so absurd that even he laughed out loud.
He barely managed to sleep for a little over an hour before seven in the morning.
At 8:10, his alarm went off.
The designated medical center was in Neihu, Taipei.
LEV sent a car to pick him up.
Chen Yaoting had assumed it would be an ordinary taxi.
Instead, when he came downstairs, a black Mercedes was already parked at the mouth of the alley.
The driver was wearing a suit.
When he saw Yaoting, he got out and opened the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Chen.”
He stood there, stunned for a moment.
Even the owner of the nearby breakfast shop was looking over.
A strange sense of vanity suddenly welled up in him.
He used to ride that old motorcycle out of the alley every day.
Now someone was opening a car door for him.
He got into the back seat.
The car was very quiet.
The air-conditioning was set perfectly.
The seat was so soft he felt like he was sinking into it.
Chen Yaoting ran a hand over the armrest.
“How much does this cost?”
The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
“It’s a company car. I’m not sure.”
“Over three hundred thousand?”
“Probably more.”
Chen Yaoting leaned back.
That thought surfaced again in his mind.
In seven days.
All of this could be his.
It wasn't until he reached the medical center that he realized the place didn't look like a hospital at all.
The exterior was an understated gray building.
There was no registration desk.
No patients.
No calls for the next number.
There wasn't even an obvious sign by the entrance.
Only a small silver inscription.
LEV MEDICAL.
Ms. Shen was already inside.
“Good morning.”
“You don't have to go to work?”
“This is my job.”
Chen Yaoting smiled.
“So what are we doing today?”
“A complete physical evaluation.”
“Just a blood draw?”
“Not just that.”
He was led into a changing room.
A nurse handed him a set of dark-gray examination clothes.
His phone, wallet, and watch all had to go into a locker.
The first examination was a blood draw.
They took nine vials at once.
Then an electrocardiogram.
Pulmonary function.
Vision.
Hearing.
A brain MRI.
Full-body X-rays.
Bone density.
Nerve conduction.
They even took images of his teeth.
By noon, Chen Yaoting began to feel that something was off.
“This is more intense than a regular checkup, isn't it?”
A doctor looked at the computer.
“We need to establish a complete baseline.”
“What kind of baseline?”
“Your physical condition before the experience.”
“Are you worried that old man will wear me out?”
The doctor looked up at him.
He didn't answer.
They ran even more bizarre tests in the afternoon.
Reaction speed.
Grip strength.
A treadmill.
Balance.
They even tested his sense of taste and smell.
The last stop was a room.
There was only one chair inside.
A woman sat behind a desk.
She looked to be around forty and wore glasses.
She introduced herself as Dr. Lin, a neuropsychological evaluator.
“I'm going to ask you some questions about your life.”
“Okay.”
“Do you currently have a steady partner?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been together?”
“Over a year.”
“Do you live together?”
“Sometimes.”
Dr. Lin recorded his answers on a tablet.
“Who are the three people you contact most often?”
Chen Yaoting frowned.
“You have to ask that too?”
“We do.”
“Do friends count?”
“They all count.”
He gave her a few names.
The questions grew more detailed after that.
What he usually ate.
Which hand he preferred.
Whether he drank.
Whether he smoked.
Which side of the bed he usually slept on.
How he unlocked his phone.
Which convenience store he often went to.
Whether he had any verbal tics.
Who usually apologized first when he and his girlfriend argued.
The more Chen Yaoting answered, the more uncomfortable he became.
“Wait.”
Dr. Lin stopped.
“What is it?”
“Didn't you say you'd only read my basic personal memories?”
“We did.”
“Then why are you asking all this?”
“To build a behavioral personality model.”
“What does that mean?”
“To help the participant use your life more naturally.”
“Doesn't he go straight into my brain?”
“Not completely.”
Dr. Lin set down the tablet.
“Human memory isn't a file. You can't open it and look through it like a computer.”
“Then how does it work?”
“The system mainly provides directional information, such as your sense of familiarity with a particular person, spatial memories of a particular place, and certain habitual movements.”
“So he won't know everything about me?”
“He won't.”
Chen Yaoting breathed a sigh of relief.
“That's good.”
Dr. Lin looked at him.
“But clients usually request supplementary data.”
“What kind of data?”
“Your social-media records, communication habits, photos, and daily schedule.”
His expression slowly changed.
“So he can read my LINE?”
“If you sign the authorization.”
“Did I sign it?”
“You did.”
Chen Yaoting sat bolt upright.
“I signed that yesterday?”
“Section 17 of the contract.”
He swore.
He'd been so blinded by the NT$1 million yesterday that there was no way he'd read every clause.
“Can I refuse authorization now?”
“You can.”
“What happens then?”
“The client may cancel.”
At those words, he fell silent again.
Cancel.
That would mean losing the NT$100 million.
Dr. Lin didn't pressure him.
She simply waited.
At last, Chen Yaoting leaned back against the chair.
“Forget it.”
“Continue?”
“Continue.”
She asked questions for over another hour.
The final question was:
“What are you most afraid of losing?”
Chen Yaoting had planned to give a random answer.
Money.
His girlfriend.
His health.
But for some reason, he thought about it.
“Freedom, I guess.”
“What kind of freedom?”
“Like... being able to do whatever I want.”
“Does work count as a restriction?”
“Of course.”
“What about debt?”
“That too.”
“Relationships?”
Chen Yaoting paused.
“Sometimes.”
Dr. Lin nodded.
“So if you had NT$100 million, what would you most want to do?”
This time, he answered immediately.
“Quit my job.”
“And then?”
“Buy a house.”
“And then?”
“Buy a car.”
“After that?”
“Travel abroad.”
“Then?”
He started laughing.
“Are you making a wish list for me?”
“I’m just trying to understand you.”
“Then I want to buy a yacht. Is that okay?”
“Sure.”
“I want a private jet too.”
“Sure.”
“What if NT$100 million isn't enough?”
Dr. Lin smiled too.
“Then you may have to rent yourself out a few more times.”
The line was clearly meant as a joke.
But Chen Yaoting suddenly stopped.
“I can rent myself out a second time?”
“In theory.”
“For NT$100 million each time?”
“Compensation depends on market conditions.”
“It could be more?”
“It could.”
His heart began racing again.
NT$100 million.
It might not be the end.
If one seven-day experience paid NT$100 million, and he did it two or three times a year...
That wasn't just being rich.
That was an entirely different world.
Dr. Lin seemed to see what he was thinking.
“Mr. Chen.”
“Yeah?”
“Don't plan your second experience too soon.”
“Why not?”
“Finish the first one first.”
Her tone had suddenly turned somewhat serious.
The examinations continued until after four in the afternoon.
The last stop was on the second basement level.
Ms. Shen appeared again.
“One more.”
“Aren't we done?”
“This is the most important one.”
The elevator doors opened.
The hallway was much colder than the floors above.
Behind a heavy glass door was a laboratory-like space.
There were several medical beds inside.
And a huge amount of equipment.
Chen Yaoting stopped the moment he saw it.
“What is this?”
“A neural synchronization test.”
“We're doing that today?”
“It's only a test. Nothing will be implanted.”
He was instructed to lie down on one of the beds.
The technicians covered his head with sensors.
His forehead.
Temples.
Behind his ears.
The back of his head.
They covered every inch.
Finally, a silver ring-shaped device slowly descended and stopped above his head.
Chen Yaoting stared at the ceiling.
“Will it hurt?”
“No.”
Ms. Shen stood beside him.
“You may see some images and hear some sounds in a moment. That's normal.”
“Whose?”
“Test data.”
“Not that seventy-three-year-old man, right?”
Ms. Shen didn't answer.
Chen Yaoting turned his head.
“Hey, I'm asking seriously.”
“Please don't speak once the test begins.”
The next second, the equipment emitted a soft, low hum.
His vision flickered suddenly.
Like someone had turned a light off and back on.
Then a completely unfamiliar image appeared in his mind.
He hadn't seen it with his eyes.
It had appeared directly in his consciousness.
A long table.
A crystal chandelier.
Someone sitting across from him.
The face was impossible to make out.
Silverware was arranged on the table.
The image lasted less than a second before vanishing.
Then it changed to another.
A pair of thin, bony hands.
Wearing a very expensive watch.
The backs of the hands were covered in age spots.
Chen Yaoting's heart lurched.
The image changed again.
A hospital room.
The sea outside the window.
Someone breathing slowly and heavily.
Then a voice appeared.
Low.
Hoarse.
It didn't sound like it had come through his ears.
It was more like it had echoed directly inside his mind.
“So this is him?”
Chen Yaoting's entire body broke out in goose bumps.
He tried to speak.
But he discovered that his body suddenly wouldn't move.
The next second, another man's voice answered.
“Yes.”
“Twenty-nine?”
“Yes.”
A brief silence.
Then the old man's voice spoke again.
“Too thin.”
Chen Yaoting cursed inwardly.
Fuck.
The next second.
The old man spoke again.
“But he'll do.”
The images suddenly vanished.
Control of his body returned.
Chen Yaoting shot upright.
“Fuck!”
The technician immediately stepped forward.
“Take it slow.”
“What was that just now?”
No one answered.
He turned to Ms. Shen.
“That was him, wasn't it?”
“Who?”
“The client!”
Ms. Shen was silent for a second.
“It was only a neural test.”
“I heard someone talking!”
“Your brain may have converted the signals into a form you could understand.”
“What about those hands? The old man's hands!”
“Mr. Chen.”
Her tone remained calm.
“We're done for today.”
The answer irritated him.
But he cared more about something else.
“Did he see me just now?”
Ms. Shen neither confirmed nor denied it.
She simply had the technicians remove the sensors.
By the time he left the medical center, it was already dark outside.
The driver took him back to Taoyuan.
Chen Yaoting didn't say a word the entire way.
That voice remained lodged in his mind.
So this is him?
Too thin.
But he'll do.
It hadn't felt like a computer test.
It had felt more like someone was really standing on the other end, inspecting merchandise.
But when he took out his phone and saw the NT$1 million in his account, the unease was pushed down quite a bit.
Seven days.
That's all.
Even if some old man really borrowed his body for seven days, so what?
He'd go to sleep.
Wake up.
NT$100 million.
After he got home, he took a shower.
He was just about to order delivery when his phone suddenly received an email.
The sender was LEV.
The subject contained only four words.
“Evaluation Complete.”
He opened it.
The first line read:
“Mr. Chen Yaoting, your physical and neural conditions have passed the client's final review.”
Below it was a table.
Age: 29.
Height: 178 cm.
Weight: 72 kg.
Cardiopulmonary function: A.
Neural synchronization adaptability: A+.
Appearance: Qualified.
Health risk: Low.
The more Chen Yaoting read, the more it felt like an animal-auction profile.
The final field read:
“Client's assessed price.”
He froze.
The number below wasn't NT$100 million.
It was even more outrageous.
NT$680,000,000.
Six hundred eighty million.
Chen Yaoting stared at the screen.
He looked at it for nearly ten seconds.
Then he read it again.
No mistake.
Six hundred eighty million.
He immediately scrolled down.
At the very bottom was a line of fine print.
“The above amount is the client's total payment for this experience and does not constitute the participant's compensation.”
Chen Yaoting's head buzzed.
So that old man.
He was paying NT$680 million.
To buy seven days with his body.
And Yaoting only got NT$100 million.
His first reaction wasn't fear.
It was: fuck.
“You're taking NT$580 million?”
He called Ms. Shen directly.
She answered on the second ring.
“Mr. Chen.”
“What is the NT$680 million?”
“The client's offer.”
“He's really paying NT$680 million?”
“Yes.”
“And I only get NT$100 million?”
“It's stipulated in the contract.”
“That cut is insane!”
Ms. Shen paused.
“The remaining fees cover neural technology, the medical team, insurance, legal services, client service, and risk costs.”
“Sure they do.”
Chen Yaoting paced back and forth across the room.
“So my body is worth NT$680 million?”
“No.”
“Then what is?”
“Seven days are worth NT$680 million.”
That answer left him unsure how to respond.
Seven days.
NT$680 million.
Nearly NT$100 million a day on average.
“Who exactly is he?”
“We can't disclose that yet.”
“When can you?”
“Before the experience begins.”
“What day does it start?”
Ms. Shen said, “Originally, next week.”
Chen Yaoting stopped.
“Originally?”
“The client just requested an earlier date.”
“How much earlier?”
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
“Tomorrow night.”
He froze.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Wait, I haven't even prepared.”
“You can refuse.”
“What happens if I refuse?”
“We return to the original schedule.”
“The NT$100 million stays the same?”
“Yes.”
He let out a breath of relief.
“Then why would I move it up?”
Ms. Shen answered, “The client is offering more.”
Chen Yaoting's eyes immediately changed.
“How much?”
“If you agree to proceed tomorrow night, your personal compensation will be adjusted from NT$100 million to NT$150 million.”
The room fell silent.
Chen Yaoting stood beside the bed.
Every question in his mind was instantly crushed beneath that extra NT$50 million.
A few days earlier.
An extra NT$50 million.
He swallowed.
“And there's more,” Ms. Shen said.
“The client wants to meet you once tonight.”
“Meet me?”
“Face-to-face.”
“Why?”
“He said...”
There was a pause on the other end of the phone.
“Before using a product worth NT$680 million,”
“he wants to see with his own eyes whether the product looks the same as it does in the photos.”