Reviving the Northeast Starts with Winning Over My Russian Mother-in-Law

Reborn in 1985, he became the most useless sickly blond in a forest farm in Northeast China.

After returning from military service, his meridians were severed, his fiancée had run off, and the whole village laughed at him as a “good-for-nothing.” A widow set him up to swindle his house, while the village bully brought men to his door to kill him. Even his own father sighed, “There’s no way to go on like this.”

But no one knew he could hear the thoughts of all living things.

He could hear the widow cursing him in her mind. He could hear the village bully plotting against him. He could even hear the giant wild boar squatting by his door, groaning because of a toothache.

Even more absurdly, he picked up a White Russian woman in the mountains.

Blonde, blue-eyed, and 1.8 meters tall, with legs for days, she could slap a black bear running. She said her name was Yekaterina, she was descended from the Russian imperial family, her family had dozens of tons of gold hidden away, and the KGB was hunting her.

She said, “Marry me, and I’ll give you half the gold.”

A scruffy blond tough guy + a polar bear of a wife = the revival of Northeast China?%#@*

His mother-in-law came all the way from Siberia, brandishing a pair of scissors and demanding to inspect him.

A KGB colonel blocked his door with a submachine gun, while a herd of wild boars guarded his home through the night.

A provincial capital bigwig’s son tried to steal his woman? He pulled out a dossier of officials’ dark secrets, sending the entire government into an uproar.

A Japanese trade delegation came to negotiate for platinum? Sorry, I call the shots on the Arctic shipping routes.

From a sickly laughingstock to a local magnate with a gold mine, border-trade warehouses, and a nuclear-powered icebreaker,

he did it all in just two years.

Reader advisory: A rugged, tattooed hero; a harem with no heartbreak; and one satisfying moment after another. Plenty of pickled cabbage stewed with glass noodles, and as much borscht as you like. Once you’re in, there’s no turning back.

In a nutshell: I can understand pigs, and I married a polar bear’s daughter. I call the shots in Northeast China.