After being laid off, I returned to my hometown to take over a martial arts theme park on the verge of going bankrupt.
I was so broke I had nothing but a dog, and a local business owner mocked me: “This dump would be better off as a parking lot.”
Then the busted old key Grandpa left behind activated an outrageous System:
“Time-space link established. Connecting to Bianjing, Northern Song Dynasty…”
Li Po, the Song Dynasty’s top chef, appeared at the park. Her crab-stuffed oranges brought tourists to tears;
The roguish Yan Qing set up a wrestling ring and took down a kickboxing champion with one hand. The video went viral across the internet;
The Flower Monk Lu Zhishen became a security guard, and a thief stealing manhole covers was so scared he turned himself in;
Li Qingzhao, the greatest female poet of all time, held a poetry convention that packed the venue;
Even Emperor Huizong of Song showed up and painted on the spot, astonishing the experts from the Palace Museum!
A foreign conglomerate spent 50 billion trying to crush me, so I summoned Yue Fei:
“General Yue, someone says Chinese martial arts are fake.”
The next day, Disney’s CEO came crying and begging to work with us.
As the whole world wondered why the martial arts theme park was so popular,
I stood atop the city wall, gazing at the countless lights of the Song Dynasty, and said:
“Culture never dies, and neither does its protection.”
