In 2025, web novelist Lin Juan, a notorious workaholic, died from overwork. When he opened his eyes again, he had returned to 2002 and become a struggling high school senior.
While his peers worked themselves to the bone, wondering if this "mysterious master" must be a world-weary literary intellectual, Lin Juan hid beneath his desk, typing the latest chapter on his handheld electronic dictionary.
A rival comes knocking? Sorry, my "writing assembly line" is already fully automated.
Capital wants to buy me out? Hold on, first I'll set a new industry standard for open-source licensing.
Hollywood calls my work provincial? Fine, I'll use the framework of the Classic of Mountains and Seas to build a "story metaverse" that will have the whole world begging for updates!
Years later, looking back from the top of the web-fiction chronicles, Lin Juan was hailed as the "Emperor's Mentor." That night he spent typing in an internet cafe, he hadn't written a novel. He had written an era.
