Right after graduation, Yihan sent his resume to numerous companies. Most vanished without a trace. Only one tech startup replied.

He soon discovered this "tech company" was barely off the ground. Its main business? Selling credit cards and barbecue meal deals. Everyone, including the manager, hustled outdoors daily. Clueless about the situation, Yihan somehow found himself swept into this sales team.

Looking back, those days were bittersweet. Rain or shine, winter or summer, he roamed the streets. Rejection, eviction, even insults came regularly. His only comfort? Decent sales figures. Thanks to sheer grit and shameless persistence, Yihan broke ten thousand yuan monthly several times. But it cost him immense time and energy, with no stability.

After nearly two years, exhausted and seeing no future, Yihan quit. He’d had enough of scrambling out of bed at midnight for customer calls, enough of wind and rain. He joined an internet company instead.

As a rookie, his salary fell short of expectations. Still dreaming of big money after his sales days, Yihan ignored health warnings and worked brutal overtime. One day, he collapsed at his desk—unconscious. And just like that, he transmigrated.

Yet those sales skills hadn’t vanished. Perfect timing—Lia needed to sell matches. This was his stage.

Lia suspected Yihan’s kindness hid ulterior motives. She never guessed he was simply bored out of his mind.

The novelty of choosing dreams freely faded fast. Realizing his future dreams would follow preset stories—not wild, random adventures—hit him like learning his whole life had been arranged by parents. No surprises. No miracles. A sudden wave of lethargy washed over him.

He didn’t know how *The Little Match Girl* would end, but it *would* end. To make this dream feel fresh, Yihan schemed to spice it up.

Selling matches together might unlock hidden side quests. Unexpected surprises? Possibly.

Daylight softened Soul Valley Town’s harshness. Pale sunlight glinted off clock towers and spires. Thickly bundled pedestrians moved silently, faces etched with the indifference and numbness of cold-climate dwellers.

Yihan led Lia to the town’s outskirts. Travelers from all directions gathered here. Carriages crowded the roads—mostly roaming merchants trading between distant lands.

Near a campfire, several approachable-looking merchants roasted meat, chatting and laughing. Yihan listened carefully as he passed. *Long-distance travelers. A golden opportunity.*

He signaled Lia to wait nearby, smoothed his collar, and approached with a bright smile.

"Freezing out here… Brothers, mind if I warm up by your fire?" He rubbed his hands together, tossing in extra twigs.

No objections.

After catching snippets of their talk, Yihan seized his chance. "So you’re roaming merchants… Heading to Summerhold next? Must be tough."

He had no idea where Summerhold was. But their grim faces screamed a long haul.

Polite—and grateful for the firewood—they replied. "Tough? Not really. But the journey’s long. Worse, we must cross the Mistwood Forest. In this endless winter? One slip, and you freeze to death on the road."

"Plenty of firewood in a forest, right?" Yihan played dumb.

"Not that simple. Starting fires in Mistwood is nearly impossible."

Yihan snapped his fingers, feigning sudden understanding. "Ah! Got it!" He waved at Lia waiting nearby. "Hey, little girl! Come here a moment!"

Lia guessed his plan. Nervous but composed, she hurried over, matchbox clutched tight, eyes questioning.

Yihan gestured smoothly. "Just met this girl selling matches. With these, fire’s no problem. Perfect for your trip."

Lia instantly produced a thick bundle. Her bright green eyes and porcelain face made the burly men hesitate—refusing her felt almost cruel.

After a tense pause, one relented. "Alright. How much for your matches?"

Before Lia could speak, Yihan cut in. "Cheap! Ten matches for five copper coins."

Even the merchants stared at him like he’d lost his mind. Lia’s eyes widened in panic.

"Ten matches for *five coppers*? Are you crazy?"

Yihan shrugged, shameless. "Dead of winter. What’s easier than matches? And hers burn longer than market junk. Worth a little extra, no?"

"Still too steep for ten!" someone argued.

"Hey, I just got here too. This freezing weather… a little girl working alone? Maybe her family’s desperate. Cut her some slack. You merchants make big hauls—what’s a few coppers?"

Their sharp gazes flicked between Yihan and Lia. The leader frowned at her. "Girl. Is that your price?"

Lia almost shook her head—*What if they beat him for tricking us?*—but nodded firmly instead.

"...Fine. You’ve got it rough. But four coppers for ten matches. Market rate. Deal?"

Yihan busied himself with the fire, staying quiet. *Mission accomplished. Time to vanish.*

Lia mimicked reluctance perfectly before sighing agreement.

They bought fifty matches. Twenty coppers changed hands. Once Lia left, Yihan made brief small talk before excusing himself.

Far from the outskirts, they reunited under the clock tower, laughing until their sides ached.

"See? Sales strategy!" Yihan swaggered. "Find their need. Use a plant. Overprice first—shock them. Then ‘sacrifice’ a little. Make them feel they won. That’s how you close."

Lia nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling.

"And your acting? Brilliant. That hesitation sold it. Without it, they’d have haggled lower. You’re a born actress—"

*Born actress?* Again with his strange words. Lia just smiled up at him, bright and tender.

His origins? His motives? She still didn’t know. But right now, every guard she’d raised melted away.

Whatever his reasons—being with him felt easy. Happy.

A strange, wonderful feeling no one had ever given her.