1958: Starting at No. 91 Nanluoguxiang

(A little courtyard drama, a period story, a pocket dimension, and one heroine.) Lin Jingzhe opened his eyes and found himself back in 1958, in the city of Beijing. His family had torn cotton-padded coats, a leaky house, and stomachs so empty their eyes had turned green. His father dragged his injured back to the docks to carry heavy loads, earning seven mao a day. His mother wiped away tears as she stared at the nearly empty rice jar. Just as the family was on the verge of going hungry, a drop of immortal dew and a three-cubic-meter stasis space appeared deep in his consciousness. From then on, life changed for the Lin family in Courtyard Number 91 on Nanluoguxiang. While others fought tooth and nail for grain, his space was piled high with it. While others couldn't buy meat, he brought some home every few days. The neighborhood office aunties suspected him of profiteering, and the neighbors were jealous as they watched his family prosper. Lin Jingzhe stayed calm and quietly got things done. He earned his first fortune collecting scrap, secured a steady job through hunting, and helped the police solve cases and earn commendations. He rose from an ordinary citizen to director of logistics at the municipal bureau. Others thought he was lucky. He alone knew that luck wasn't enough to survive in this world. Li Huaide from the steel mill wanted to work with him. Director Sun from the supply and marketing cooperative begged him for goods. He even found his long-lost second uncle, who was now a senior officer in the People's Armed Forces Department. He shipped a steady stream of grain, medicine, and industrial parts from Hong Kong to the mainland. When enemy agents tried to blow up his vehicle, he sent them straight to prison. When gangsters tried to extort protection money, he wiped them out overnight. From Beijing to Hong Kong, and from Hong Kong to Tokyo, he wove a web no one could see. And it was all hidden inside the space no one could find. The senior officer said, “I've set the stage for you. Now go put on your show.” Lin Jingzhe stubbed out his cigarette and smiled. “Then I'll put on one hell of a show.”