One morning, Xue Chang'an, Chief Imperial Physician of the Great Jing Dynasty, woke up in 1955 Hong Kong, inhabiting the frail body of a poor teenager from the slums.
Turning around, he saw his “fellow sufferer” solemnly analyzing how to cook the most nutritious porridge from rotten vegetables, with the mindset of a modern librarian.
Xue Chang'an silently reached into his System inventory and pulled out the beginner’s gift pack: a copy of The Barefoot Doctor’s Manual and ten jin of grain coupons.
“Hey, colleague, had you paid enough into your health insurance before you transmigrated?”
But before they could make a name for themselves in Hong Kong with ancient medicine and foreknowledge of the future, they were shocked to discover that the destitute old man they’d saved was a future tycoon, the chipped porcelain bowl they’d picked up for a song was worth tens of millions, and even the poor student they’d casually invested in had become a tech magnate.
With British conglomerates about to move against them, a silver needle glinted between Xue Chang'an’s fingers.
“Brother, it’s time to have our security company ‘incidentally’ put together a special support team…”
