The Rebirth of a Wealth Empire from a Street Stall to the World's Largest

Yang Fan opened his eyes suddenly, and the dazzling sunlight filtered through the old wooden window lattice, casting irregular light spots on the mottled concrete floor. The nostrils are filled with the faint smell of coal smoke and the aroma of food coming from next door. In the ears are the "buzzing" sound of the old-fashioned ceiling fan, and the shouts of vendors in the alley downstairs - "popsicles, three cents each!" "Fresh watermelon, sweeter than honey!" This is not the 2024 he is familiar with. Yang Fan raised his hand stiffly, and what he saw was a pair of young, slightly rough but energetic palms, not the hands with clear knuckles that had been typing on the keyboard all year round. He looked around. In the small room, there was a squeaky wooden bed, a wardrobe with peeling paint, a desk filled with textbooks, and a yellowed poster of a basketball star on the wall.