In the twenty-first year of the Guangxu reign, Li Zhenhua transmigrates.
No golden finger, no System, just thirty copper coins in his pocket.
He starts making soap in a cracked iron pot and learns from an old blacksmith how to let his craftsmanship speak for itself.
Fifty years later, his factories have expanded from Tianjin to Shanghai, moved from Shanghai to Chongqing, and spread from Chongqing across the country.
Someone asks him why he chose to work in industry.
He replies, “If a country can't even make its own soap, it will never be able to stand on its own.”
This is the story of an ordinary man who spent his whole life getting China's machines to run on their own.
The writing is too messy, the preface does not match the follow-up, and people who know each other at the beginning are forgotten later.