The Comment Feed of Fortune

The real estate agent was showing me the house when a line of text suddenly floated before my eyes:
[The male lead will eventually buy this house back for ten times the price. I wonder which lucky girl is going to get rich off this place.]
I stared blankly for three seconds, then decisively signed the contract.
That night, calculating the mortgage payments, I fell into a pit of despair. I started to suspect I’d gotten food poisoning from some cheap takeout to be hallucinating a live comment feed in my reality.
But then, the comments exploded again:
[Did the female lead just throw out all the luxury gifts the male lead gave her?]
[OMG, can someone transport me there?! I want to go pick them up!]
I shot out of bed, hopped on my little food trike, and sped toward the main couple’s address.
Whether it was real or not, my time for a windfall had finally come!

1
"Miss Vance, you've looked at this place five times already. It's an older house, but for the price, it's a steal. You really shouldn't hesitate."
I clutched the crumpled flyer in my hand, trailing behind the real estate agent as I surveyed the house for the fifth time. I knew it was a good deal, but the down payment would drain my entire life savings and bury me in debt.
I was just about to give up when words materialized in the air in front of me.
[I can't believe she's actually selling this house. This was the love nest she shared with the male lead back when they were poor!]
[Well, Landon was a total jerk. I don't blame Claire for giving up on him.]
I rubbed my eyes. It wasn't a hallucination.
Just then, another comment drifted by:
[I wonder who the lucky buyer will be. Landon is going to buy this back for ten times the price later on.]
Ten times the price? I’d be rich!
Barely containing my excitement, I casually asked the agent, "So, uh, what's the owner's name again?"
He waved a dismissive hand. "Claire Sterling. Her boyfriend is loaded, not in our league at all. That’s probably why the house is priced so cheap."
Oh my god. It all matched the comments.
The agent was getting impatient. "Miss Vance, maybe I should show you some more affordable options."
"No!" I grabbed his arm. "I'll take it."

2
The deal was done in a flash. We finished the paperwork by noon, and I moved in that afternoon.
Thanks to the comments, I figured it out: I was living inside a "make him grovel" romance novel. The main couple was currently on the rocks, and by buying their house, I was basically profiting from their relationship drama.
That night, lying in my new bed, I stared at my zeroed-out bank account and felt like I was in a dream. Thinking back on the floating text… had I eaten too much cheap takeout and started seeing things? Who in their right mind sees a live comment feed in real life?
The thought made me sit bolt upright. I had poured my entire savings of ten thousand dollars into this house and was now saddled with a massive mortgage. What if there was no "male lead" coming to the rescue? On my meager income from selling crepes from a cart, how many lifetimes would it take to pay this off?
I smacked my forehead in frustration.
A white glow flickered in my vision again. For a second, I thought I'd hit myself so hard I was seeing stars, but a closer look revealed more comments.
[Claire is really furious this time. She's throwing out everything Landon ever gave her.]
[And today is their fifth anniversary! Landon actually spent the night at the other woman's place!]
[Landon is the worst. And I actually thought he wasn't all bad deep down.]
Amidst the chorus of outrage directed at the male lead, one comment caught my eye.
[Don't throw them away, honey! Sell them! You could get so much money for all that!]
Throwing things away? That could be sold for cash?
Was this really happening?
I scrambled out of bed and dialed the agent's number, my voice trembling with excitement. "Hey, so the previous owner left some things behind. Could you give me her current address? I want to return them to her."
The agent was clearly half-asleep. "It's the middle of the night. For this? Her boyfriend is the CEO of the King Corporation. They live in the most exclusive condo complex in the city. You think she cares about a few forgotten items? She told me specifically she didn't want anything left behind. Just toss whatever you find."
He didn't give me the address. I was sweating with anxiety. Opportunity waits for no one! If I was late, someone else might scoop up all the good stuff.
Just before he hung up, I blurted out, "It's their sentimental keepsakes!"
"Huh? What keepsakes?"
"You know, from Mr. King! I saw their names engraved on something. What if this causes a huge misunderstanding between them? You have to give me the address!"
The agent was silent for a long moment, then his voice turned grim. "Then I especially can't tell you. You think I have a death wish, giving out Landon King's home address?"
He hung up.
I threw my phone onto the bed in frustration. The live feed was still giving a play-by-play of the drama at Claire's.
[Holy crap, she's throwing away a Patek Philippe? Is she insane?]
[OMG, can someone transport me there?! I want to go pick it up!]
I paced around in a panic, and then it hit me. The agent had told me the address.
I threw on a jacket and hopped onto my trusty crepe trike.
Half an hour later, I pulled up to the most luxurious residential complex in the city: The Grandview Estates.
The complex was huge, but at two in the morning, someone repeatedly hauling boxes to the curb was as obvious as a lighthouse in a storm.
Claire Sterling, carrying a heavy-looking cardboard box, walked to the dumpster and dumped its contents without a second glance.
Sweet mother of fortune!
The moment she went back inside, I pedaled over to the dumpster, pulled out a large burlap sack, and started stuffing it with treasures. One eye on the goods, the other on the villa's front door.
A few minutes later, Claire emerged with another big box. I quickly hid. As soon as she was gone, I rushed back and continued my haul.
Just as my sack was about to burst, she came out with a third box.
I tried to drag my full sack away to hide again, but it was incredibly heavy. She was almost at the door. In a panic, I gave it one last desperate tug.
Riiiiip—
The bottom of the sack tore open, spilling its contents all over the pavement.
I froze.
My eyes met Claire's from across the driveway.
The comment feed went wild.
[HOLY SHIT SOMEONE IS ACTUALLY PICKING IT UP!!]
[This is literally like winning the lottery!]
[Isn't that the girl who bought the house today? She's struck gold twice in one day. How can one person be this lucky?!]
[Honey, get your stuff back! It's not too late! Take it back and sell it yourself!]

3
Before I could even think, I’d thrown myself over the pile of luxury goods like a mother hen protecting her chicks. I'd pedaled all the way here in the dead of night for this. If she took it all back, my efforts would be for nothing.
But… I felt a pang of guilt.
Claire's eyes were red and swollen, and her slender frame looked impossibly fragile in the cold wind. The box in her hands was filled with expensive things, but the contrast between their value and her heartbreak was palpable.
[Honey, you need money to have the freedom to leave that bastard!]
[Love is gone, but you can't let the money be gone too!]
Looking at the comments, then back at Claire, my heart softened.
As much as it pained me, I slowly straightened up, forcing the words out through a tight throat. "Um, if you want it…"
"I would have just given it to you if I'd known you were here." Claire managed a strained smile and placed the box gently at my feet. "If you like it, just take it all." Her gaze fell on my torn sack. After a moment, she said, "Wait here a second."
She turned and jogged back into the house, returning a moment later with three large, plaid-patterned tote bags.
I marveled. Rich people used these kinds of bags too.
But a comment quickly corrected my ignorance.
[Those are the limited edition Louis Vuitton woven totes!]
LV? Limited edition?
"Your sack is broken. Use these." Claire knelt and started helping me pack the scattered luxury goods into the LV totes.
Oh, my god. Was this the legendary kindness of a female lead?
I stared at her for a long moment, then finally managed to ask, "This stuff… it could sell for a lot of money. Are you sure you're just giving it to me?"
She paused, then spoke after a long silence, her voice thick with emotion. "I never needed that much money anyway."
She even helped me load the three overflowing LV totes onto my crepe trike, seeing I couldn't manage it alone.
She was an angel. I could cry.
"You know how to make crepes?" she asked, looking at my setup.
I carefully arranged the three massive totes in the back of my trike, then puffed out my chest with pride. "You bet! All the neighbors say my crepes are the best. Business is great!"
Claire reached out and touched my little trike, a hint of envy in her eyes. "It must be nice, being able to support yourself."
Her words sent the comment feed into another frenzy.
[My baby is too delicate to be selling crepes out in the elements.]
[Are you serious? Selling crepes is a thousand times better than being miserable with Landon!]
[It's the middle of the night and now I'm craving a crepe. drooling.jpg]
It was almost three in the morning. I wondered if Claire was hungry. After a fight like that with Landon, she probably hadn't eaten dinner.
I expertly fired up my stove and pulled out my tools. "Miss Sterling, you've been so kind to me. As a humble crepe vendor, I have nothing to offer in return but this 'fully loaded' supreme crepe!"
I may have only been twenty, but I already had a decade of crepe-making experience. I wasn't bragging, but no one who'd eaten my crepes had ever had a bad word to say.
Claire initially tried to refuse, but the aroma of food in the dead of night was too tempting. She fell silent, her eyes fixed on my griddle.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a comment mention that Landon couldn't see Claire on the security cameras, couldn't reach her by phone, and was now on his way back.
With a final flick of my wrist, I folded a crepe bigger than my head and placed the deluxe masterpiece in Claire's hands.
"Here you go! It was nice meeting you. Thank you for the gifts! I will be grateful for the rest of my life!"
Before Claire could respond, I was already pedaling away like a madwoman. If Landon saw me, not only would I lose all my treasures, but I'd probably face some kind of retaliation. The thought made me pedal so fast I felt like I was about to break the sound barrier.

4
It took a monumental effort, but I finally got everything home. I didn't even stop to catch my breath before I started using my phone's image search to identify each item.
Hermès, Chanel, Patek Philippe, Bvlgari…
With every price I looked up, I had to press a hand to my chest, afraid I might pass out from sheer excitement.
The very next day, I picked out one of the less expensive-looking bags and took it to a luxury consignment shop. When twenty thousand dollars landed in my bank account, the reality of it all finally hit me.
Good heavens. Me, Lucy Vance, had finally made it!
The old saying was true: you don't get rich without a little luck. And my lucky break had finally arrived.
I used some of the money to buy a decent outfit and a pair of shoes. Back home, I followed a fashion blogger's tutorial, styling myself with some of the items from the totes. The comments had said Landon would be coming to buy the house back soon, so I had to sell everything quickly. But first, I needed to look the part of a wealthy person. Otherwise, I might get arrested just for walking into a high-end store.
I looked in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. Not bad. Clothes really do make the woman. I looked quite convincing.
But something still felt off.
I studied my reflection for a long time before I realized what it was: my hair and my hands. The clothes were expensive, and I could use foundation to touch up my face, but my hands and hair were dead giveaways. I'd been working outside since I was ten, and my hands were rough and chapped, not like those of a young woman. When I was shopping for the clothes earlier, I hadn't even dared to touch the silk items, afraid I'd snag the fabric and have to pay for it.
For years, I'd scrimped and saved to buy a proper burial plot for my grandpa. After I finally managed that, I started saving for a house. I always bought the cheapest food. As a result, my hair was dull and brittle from a lack of nutrition, like a bundle of dead straw.
I ruffled my hair in frustration. I never thought I'd be stressing about how to look rich.
A moment later, an idea struck me. I rushed out and bought a pair of nice gloves and a wig.
Looking in the mirror this time… perfect!
I blew myself a kiss. Absolutely gorgeous.
The next day, I hauled a massive load of luxury goods to the consignment shop. I held my chin high, trying to channel the energy of a proud swan, refusing to let my confidence waver. I was genuinely terrified the police would be called on me.
Luckily, my acting skills were decent. The shop staff not only didn't suspect a thing, but they were incredibly enthusiastic, telling me to come back anytime.
A week later, I had sold everything. That included the clothes, shoes, gloves, and wig I’d bought to play the part of a rich woman. They were completely impractical and had a terrible cost-performance ratio. They were not worthy of being my possessions.
Lying on my bed again, I checked my bank balance. The feeling was completely different from the first time. Back then, I wanted to die. This time, I was scared to death.
Twenty million dollars!!
And according to the comments, that was just a fraction of the gifts Landon had given her. The world of the rich was truly unimaginable.
Being suddenly wealthy was an incredible feeling. For the first few days, I would wake up in the middle of the night, laughing in my sleep. The moment my eyes opened, I’d order the most expensive takeout and pair it with the fanciest cheese-foam tea from the cheapest boba place in town.
Life was looking up.

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