Chapter 1: The Collapse
The city skyline shimmered under the bleak light of dusk, its silver towers and neon signs masking the quiet decay rotting beneath. Parked at the edge of a desolate street, a once-gleaming black sedan now bore streaks of dirt and wear. Inside, a man sat motionless, gripping the steering wheel as though it were the only thing tethering him to reality.
Zhao Lin Ma had been a titan among men—a CEO who once helmed LinTech Enterprises, a name that held weight in every boardroom across China. With subsidiaries across Asia and offices bustling with talent, he had lived in polished suits, dined with dignitaries, and signed deals that shook industries. But in 2025, everything changed.
It began with the economic downturn. Tax reforms meant to target monopolies ended up gutting small empires like his. Rival companies closed in like vultures, encouraged by whispers from within his own ranks. His CFO, a man he'd mentored, embezzled millions. His own fiancée leaked confidential data to competitors. The government launched an investigation. Shareholders abandoned ship. It took less than three months to unravel what had taken him twelve years to build.
Tonight, Lin Ma had no home, no business, and no name left to protect. He pounded the dashboard with the side of his fist, roaring in frustration. His chest heaved. A silent scream built in his throat but died before it could escape.
Outside, the world moved on, indifferent. Cars passed. Neon lights flickered. No one knew who he was. Or who he had been.
Days later, the sedan was sold. He exchanged his luxury watch for a small envelope of cash. With it, he rented a cramped room in a half-abandoned apartment block—walls peeling, roaches claiming territory. He became a ghost of the city, surviving on cheap instant noodles, shivering under thin blankets.
He stared at a single possession left untouched: a framed photo of his mother. A woman who had raised him alone in the farmlands of Hubei. Her smile was warm, immortalized in a photo yellowing at the corners. He muttered to it sometimes, asking her if she was proud of what he had once become.
Then one night, his breathing grew labored. Coughs wracked his frame. He had no money for a hospital, no friends left to call. He clutched the photo to his chest, vision blurring as he stared at the ceiling, the room spinning slowly.
"Mother... I'm sorry... I lost it all..."
Darkness swallowed him.
---
He awoke with a gasp.
Grass.
The scent of soil. A clear sky. The sun warmer than he remembered. A bird cawed in the distance. He sat up in a panic, eyes scanning the strange horizon—wooden structures, stone paths, and people in robes. Farmers? Courtiers? Was this a dream?
A name rang out.
"Lin Ma! You useless waste, get over here!"
He turned slowly. A wrinkled old man with a cane hobbled toward him, fury in his eyes.
"You think we took you in to let you sleep like a prince? Go scrub the outer latrine before the disciples arrive. And don't you dare speak to my granddaughter unless spoken to!"
Lin Ma blinked. He tried to protest, but no words came out. His limbs felt foreign, his memories fractured. He stumbled to his feet.
Was this a second chance—or a punishment?
Only time would tell.