"Ding!! Ding!! You have acquired the Legacy Empire System." This system bestowed upon him not a guide, but a profound gift: a vastly enhanced intellect. "Your ultimate mission: build a Legacy Empire. Use the intelligence we have given you. I will return one day, when I am satisfied and happy with your accomplishments."
Lin Yuan felt a searing pain rip through his lungs, every muscle screaming in protest as the frigid water consumed him. Just moments before, he had been hunched over his small fishing skiff in the lazy river, the monotony of his existence a heavy shroud. He had longed for something, anything, to break the suffocating cycle of poverty that clung to him and his ailing mother. A sudden, sharp tug on his line had jolted him, and in his eagerness, he'd lost his footing, tumbling headfirst into the murky depths. His mind, once clouded by despair, now fixated on his mother's worn hands, the silent sacrifices she'd made, and the bitter taste of his own failure. The world spun in a dizzying vortex of muddy greens and blues before unconsciousness finally claimed him.
He awoke with a gasp, violently coughing up river water onto the damp earth. The sun had long since set, a thick, inky darkness pressing down from the sky. He was sprawled on the riverbank, his body aching, but something was different. Profoundly different. His vision, usually blurred by the dim light, was piercingly sharp, every leaf on the overhanging trees, every ripple on the black river, rendered with astonishing clarity. His mind, once a sluggish pond of mundane thoughts, now spun like a wild deer, alive with an impossible speed. Ideas cascaded, connections formed, solutions to problems he hadn't even consciously formulated presented themselves with effortless precision. It was as if decades of accumulated knowledge had been instantly downloaded into his brain. A burning, unfamiliar ambition ignited within him, chasing away the remnants of despair. He understood that the world, once a maze of dead ends, was now a network of flows – of goods, money, and information – and in those flows, he could find every eddy, every ripple, every opportunity others, less observant, consistently missed.
He stumbled to his feet, his limbs stiff but obedient, and began the walk home. The familiar path seemed alien under his new perception; every shadow, every scent, every distant sound was now a torrent of analyzable data. He passed the bustling local market, now quieting down for the evening, absorbing its patterns of supply and demand, the subtle price fluctuations, the shrewd haggling. He saw the chaotic, vibrant symphony of Fenyang life not as a static backdrop, but as a dynamic system waiting to be optimized. His gaze lingered on a demolition site, mentally calculating projected rents, occupancy rates, and construction costs, factoring in local income brackets and the subtle influence of bureaucrats. He might have been just a boy from a forgotten village, but his mind was already building skyscrapers, brick by agonizing brick.
He reached their small, single-room dwelling, a faint sliver of moonlight illuminating its humble facade. He pushed open the creaking door, the smell of burnt wood and simple grains wafting out. His mother, Tang Ruyi, looked up from the small brazier where she was stirring a meager pot of rice gruel. Her tired eyes widened slightly at the sight of him. He was soaked to the bone, mud clinging to his clothes, and the distinct, earthy stench of the river permeated his very being.
"Lin Yuan! What on earth happened to you?" she exclaimed, her voice laced with concern, quickly turning to a hint of exasperation as the smell reached her.
"Mother, something incredible happened," he blurted out, his voice rough from the water, his mind still reeling with the impossible truths he now grasped. "I fell in the river, and then... a system. It gave me a brilliant mind. I saw things. I know things now. We can change everything!"
Tang Ruyi simply stared at him, her brow furrowed. She slowly put down her ladle. "A system? Brilliant mind?" she repeated, her gaze traveling from his wild eyes to his dripping, muddy clothes. A soft sigh escaped her lips. "Lin Yuan, you must have hit your head when you fell. Or perhaps the cold got to you. There's no such thing as 'systems' out there." She walked over, her worn hands gently touching his soaking arm. "You smell like the bottom of the river, child. Go wash yourself. I've made some gruel; it'll warm you up. Then we can talk about your 'brilliant mind' and these 'systems' you speak of."
She gestured towards the small bucket of water in the corner and the rough cloth, her expression a mixture of fatigue, love, and quiet disbelief. Lin Yuan stood there for a moment, the vastness of his newfound intellect clashing with the mundane reality of his mother's practical concern. He said nothing more, a new, profound understanding settling within him. The world had indeed changed, but not everyone would see it. Not yet. He would have to show them. He would build this empire, brick by agonizing brick, just as the system commanded. And to do that, he needed knowledge, maps, connections.
After washing away the stench of the river, a cleansing ritual for his past self, he sat by the flickering oil lamp, the economics primer he'd scavenged now open before him. The words on the page spoke of supply and demand, capital and labor, market inefficiencies—concepts that now coalesced into tangible strategies, the abstract becoming blueprints for real-world leverage. The first step was clear: information. The internet, slow and costly as it was, held the keys to Fenyang's hidden opportunities. He would start there. The whispers of a throne, forged in shadows and built on quiet, relentless logic, had just begun. The next morning, his mind already racing with calculations, he knew exactly where he would go.