The golden shimmer faded from her eyes, but the images it left behind were vivid, etched into her very soul.
Li Ziqing sat still inside the vehicle, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as the vision unfolded like an ancient scroll. She no longer saw the rough road ahead, nor the evergreens flanking their path. Instead, her mind painted an entire world—an oasis of serenity, grandeur, and reverence for nature.
A luxurious hot spring resort, born from the whispers of the land itself.
The vision began at the foothills of the mountains. A grand entranceway, designed in the style of a traditional Japanese torii arch, stood solemnly against the backdrop of forested ridges. Guests would arrive through a winding stone-paved road bordered with lanterns, cherry blossoms, and maple trees—trees that would ignite in crimson fire during autumn. The arch would not symbolize dominance over nature, but harmony with it.
Past the entrance, the land spread like a canvas. Hot spring pavilions emerged first in her vision—crafted from polished cedar wood and bamboo, their roofs sloping elegantly, tiled with black clay that gleamed against the mountain sky. Each private pavilion would be nestled among the natural hot springs, designed so that the mineral-rich waters flowed directly into open-air baths. Guests could sink into the steaming pools while gazing at the rolling forest and hearing the distant murmur of streams.
Not far from the springs stood the main resort complex—a masterpiece of traditional-meets-modern architecture. Long glass panels blended seamlessly with carved wooden beams, allowing the indoor lounges and tea halls to open into panoramic views of the mountains. A central courtyard held a koi pond with a stone bridge, where water lilies bloomed under the watchful eyes of bronze cranes.
The land stretched endlessly—16,000 acres—yet every section of it was planned with delicate care. Li Ziqing's vision avoided destruction; the forest would remain untouched, its pathways merely adapted into shaded walking trails. Along these trails, guests could embark on meditative journeys through evergreen groves, their footsteps accompanied by the rustling of leaves and the soft gurgle of hidden streams.
On the slopes of the mountain, terraced platforms appeared in her vision. Here, she imagined luxury villas, each designed in harmony with the land. Built from stone and timber, with floor-to-ceiling windows, they offered unobstructed views of valleys cloaked in mist. No two villas would be identical, each crafted to give its guest the feeling of solitude, as though the entire mountain belonged only to them.
In another corner of her dream, she saw a grand onsen palace—an expansive spa complex where healers, herbalists, and wellness experts would gather. Using time-honored traditions and the curative powers of hot springs, this palace would offer treatments that rejuvenated body and spirit alike. The air would forever carry the fragrance of sandalwood, yuzu, and fresh pine.
The streams weaving through the land would not be diverted or destroyed. Instead, they became part of the resort itself—bridges arched gracefully over them, with lanterns glowing at night, the sound of water mingling with the song of crickets. Where the streams widened, she saw tranquil boating lakes, small wooden rowboats gliding under the stars.
Her vision expanded still further. High above, in the folds of the mountains, she glimpsed a meditation monastery, where monks in saffron robes welcomed guests seeking silence and enlightenment. And beyond that—on a plateau at the highest ridge—stood an observatory pavilion, its glass dome revealing the heavens at night. Guests could sip warm sake while stargazing, the universe itself unfolding before their eyes.
But what struck Li Ziqing most was not the scale, nor the opulence, but the balance. The resort was not built upon the land, but with it. The forest remained alive, the mountains untouched, the streams singing their eternal song. Luxury, yes—but a luxury that bowed to nature, not conquered it.
Her lips curved into a faint smile as the vision faded, leaving her heart racing.
Li Ziqing had already envisioned the outline of her plan. With the Heaven-Earth Shift Coupon, she could easily create a natural hot spring within the mountains. That part was no longer an obstacle. The true challenge lay in the investment.
The project was colossal in scale—far beyond what she alone could shoulder. Even with Feng Zhaotian at her side, it wasn't enough. What she needed was a major player in the industry, someone with the resources and influence to bring her vision to life.
And only one name surfaced in her mind—Zhou Yichen.
Her brows furrowed as she sank into deep thought. The idea had taken root, but the path forward remained unclear. Just then, Feng Zhaotian's voice cut through her silence.
"Ziqing, what are you thinking about? Did you come up with something?"
Startled out of her daze, Li Ziqing turned to him. Composing herself, she replied calmly, though her voice carried a trace of firmness.
"Uncle Feng, I do have a plan. But it still needs refinement. Give me a little time—perhaps a day or two. Someone from Huiheng will come to Hongtian Real Estate to discuss the project further."
Feng Zhaotian raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his eyes. But he didn't press her. He only nodded, as though acknowledging the unspoken weight of her words.
Inwardly, however, Li Ziqing was fully aware of the truth—at her current standing, she wasn't yet qualified to discuss such an immense project with Feng Zhaotian, let alone secure the level of investment it required. For this, she could only rely on Zhou Yichen.
Her gaze flickered toward the window just as the off-road vehicle began to curve along the mountain path. A sudden pang of urgency struck her.
"Wait," she interjected sharply. "I think that's far enough. Let's turn back. I have some matters I must attend to."
Feng Zhaotian looked at her with faint surprise but didn't argue. He gave a signal, and the vehicle slowed, beginning its descent.
Li Ziqing's expression softened only when the peak was no longer in sight. She could not allow anyone—yet—to see the mountain in its entirety. One day, when she invoked the Heaven-Earth Shift Coupon to conjure a genuine hot spring from within its depths, it would have to appear as though nature itself had designed it. Any premature exposure risked suspicion, and suspicion was a luxury she could not afford.
For now, secrecy was her shield, and patience her sharpest weapon.
---
Meanwhile, in Wuhan's Central District, inside a towering commercial skyscraper, the sound of shattering glass echoed sharply across Gong Mutai's luxurious office. He had hurled a water glass onto the floor in a fit of rage.
"What do you mean Huiheng Group acquired it?" he thundered, his face twisting with fury. "Didn't I tell you to settle things with the Forest Protection Bureau? I asked you to bribe your way through!"
The assistant trembled under his glare, cold sweat already soaking his back. "S–Sir, everything was proceeding exactly as planned. In fact, I had already bribed several internal officials within the Forest Protection Bureau. They assured me the land was practically in our hands. But yesterday, without warning, a sudden call came down from the Provincial Forest Protection Minister. Before anyone could react, the land had already been sold… to Huiheng Group."
A deadly silence followed. Gong Mutai's eyes, bloodshot with suppressed violence, narrowed into slits.
Huiheng Group… Huiheng Group…
The name had become an ominous thorn lodged in his heart. In just a few short days, this once-unknown company had emerged from the shadows, repeatedly crossing his path and seizing what should have been his. He had tried—desperately—to dig into the background of its president. Yet all he had managed to uncover was that the figure at its helm was a woman, and that she was surrounded by people of unusual capability.
Grinding his teeth, he spat out, "Huiheng Group cannot be allowed to exist for long. If it continues to expand, it will become a direct threat to the Gong family." His fist slammed against the armrest of his leather chair, veins standing out on his hand.
The assistant swallowed nervously, but forced himself to speak. "Mr. Gong, let's not act impulsive this time, you know there seems to be a connection between the Shen family and Huiheng Group. Otherwise, why would the President of Shen Group, Shen Waiyuan, personally attend the opening ceremony of their new restaurant? And…" He hesitated, unsure whether to continue.
"And what?" Gong Mutai's sharp voice cut through the room like a blade.
The assistant flinched but forced the words out. "And today… President Feng Zhaotian of Hongtian Group personally accompanied the daughter and younger brother of Huiheng's president to visit the newly purchased land."
For a moment, Gong Mutai froze. Then his body shot upright, his expression darkening with disbelief. Feng Zhaotian—known throughout the business world for his eccentricity and independence—had personally made the trip? That could only mean one thing: a collaboration.
"Did you uncover what they're planning?" Gong Mutai demanded.
The assistant shook his head cautiously. "Not yet. But based on the movements I've tracked, their collaboration has already been finalized. A formal meeting will be held soon to discuss the project in detail."
With a thunderous bang, Gong Mutai slammed his palm against the mahogany desk, the sound reverberating across the office. His lips curled into a sneer. "Then keep your eyes on them. Every move, every step—I want to know it all. If Huiheng Group dares to cross Gong Mutai, they'd better be prepared to face the consequences." His gaze gleamed with cruel arrogance. "So what if they have ties to the Shen family? Do you really think the Shens would personally intervene on behalf of Huiheng? They have no business in Hubei Province, let alone Wuhan. Their friendship with Huiheng's president doesn't scare me."
The assistant, sensing the suffocating tension in the room, glanced at his wristwatch and said carefully, "Mr. Gong, it's time. We should leave for the airport—the people from the Capital should be arriving any moment now."
At once, the fury in Gong Mutai's face shifted into a cold, eager anticipation. His lips tightened into something between a smile and a snarl. Rising from his chair, he straightened his jacket and strode towards the door.
"Let's go," he ordered. His voice was steady now, but the excitement lurking beneath it was palpable.
---
That entire day, Li Ziqing buried herself in work. On the large mahogany desk in her study, draft papers lay scattered—sketches, rough layouts, and scribbled calculations. By the afternoon, a complete rough design of the hot spring resort she envisioned had taken shape. Then, with the help of the Royal Aide Coupon, she refined it all in one go—producing a flawless master plan. Detailed blueprints, architectural designs, cost estimations, structural modules, everything appeared before her as if she were a professional developer with decades of experience.
She leaned back in her chair, massaging her temples, but the satisfaction in her eyes could not be hidden.
When she called Li Jianfang later that evening, the good news continued.
"Ziqing, you wouldn't believe it," Jianfang's voice rang with excitement. "The restaurant's first day exceeded all expectations! Membership applications poured in, and tables stayed full the entire day. Even now, people are queuing outside, asking how soon they can join."
"That's good," Ziqing smiled faintly, though her mind was already thinking ahead.
After hanging up, she dialed Zhou Yichen in Nanjing. His progress was equally smooth.
"The clearance for our new restaurant came through without issue," he reported. "Since the company registration was already in place, the procedures went faster than expected. We can begin preparations immediately."
"Good. I'll leave that in your hands, then."
After dinner, Li Ziqing lingered for a while in the quiet of her room. Finally, she took a steadying breath and walked toward her closet. From the shelf, she pulled out the Hermès Herbag Zip 39—a casual Kelly she had purchased at the Central Shopping Plaza. Her fingers traced the fine stitching on the leather. She remembered how much she had admired the black version, and how decisively she had chosen this one to use it as her school bag.
Tomorrow, she would be returning to that place.
Wuhan No.1 Middle School.
Although in this timeline, only a summer vacation had passed, to her reborn self it felt like a decade had gone by since she last set foot on that campus. The very concept of "middle school" now seemed foreign, almost distant. During the summer she had barely felt the strangeness of her rebirth. But now, with the thought of actually attending classes again, nerves began to coil in her stomach.
Tomorrow marked the beginning of her second year at Wuhan No.1 Middle School.
Her school life in her previous life had been anything but extraordinary—no treasured memories, no warm nostalgia. The school itself, however, was one of the most prestigious in Hubei Province. With the highest high school admission rates and enviable recognition in college entrance exams, Wuhan No.1 was more than an educational institution—it was a status symbol.
Parents whispered with pride if their child wore the school uniform. "A No.1 student" wasn't just a title, it was a credential, a golden ticket. It wasn't simply about academics or infrastructure; it was about the school's deep entanglement with Wuhan's high society.
To gain admission, families either needed extraordinary wealth—or extraordinary talent. The latter, however, accounted for only a handful of seats.
Li Ziqing and her elder brother, Li Zian, had earned their places through academic excellence.
Zian, especially, had been a prodigy. In just one year of middle school, he had already skipped two grades and was now starting high school. Ziqing, on the other hand, remained in her second year. Truthfully, she could have accelerated as well, but in her first year's second semester, something had shifted. Her grades had slipped, and she had failed to even make it into the top ten.
The reason? Not lack of intelligence, but something far more insidious—the inferiority complex she had allowed to take root.
Her lips curved bitterly as she recalled her own naïve thoughts from back then. How foolish I was… thinking those rich heiresses would become my friends. Thinking they would help me win over my so-called "crush."
Her breath caught as a face suddenly flashed before her eyes. Her pupils narrowed, a dark glint of malice flickering within them.
"How could I forget them…" she whispered to herself, her hand curling into a tight fist. The sharp bite of her nails against her palm grounded her anger, but not enough to dispel it.
Her previous life had already been miserable, and those people had played no small part in it.
A woman's jealousy—she had learned the hard way—was a dangerous thing. It began innocently, as envy. Then it deepened into jealousy. And finally, it rooted itself in the heart, twisting into malice. In her last life, her very beauty had been a curse, a target for venomous whispers and deliberate schemes.
But was that her fault?
Li Ziqing's beauty had been natural, undeniable. Yet it had painted a bullseye on her back. Those rich second-generation heiresses, insecure beneath their designer clothes and dazzling jewelry, couldn't stand the thought of someone surpassing them.
And so they turned on her.
The weight of their scorn, their exclusion, their malicious little games—it had all worn her down, seeping into her mind until she truly believed she was inferior. It had been enough to shatter her confidence, enough to sabotage her studies, enough to convince her she was unworthy.
But not anymore.
Her gaze hardened, a quiet fire flickering in the depths of her eyes. Not anymore. Although decades had passed, she still remembered every face, every sneer, every whisper that had carved itself into her memory. Time had not dulled the sting; it had sharpened it into a blade she now carried in her heart.
It had all begun in her second year of school. She remembered it vividly—the way her classmates had singled her out, their laughter disguised as playful jabs, their ridicule disguised as "truth." The teachers, who should have guided her, instead turned cold and complicit. They stood back, whispering behind closed doors, their disapproval written in every grade marked unfairly low, in every opportunity quietly stolen.
She could still see her mother's pale, helpless face that day, trembling as the principal's words sliced them apart in front of the crowd. "Unfit. Disruptive. No place here." The humiliation of being dragged out of that school, their belongings packed in haste, the way neighbors whispered as they walked home with downcast heads—it was burned into her very soul.
Her eyes grew red, brimming not with weakness but with a vow carved deeper than bone. In this life, everything will change. It must.
She would make sure of it.
Every single one of them—the students who laughed, the teachers who failed her, the gossipmongers who thrived on her pain—would taste the same humiliation and shame. She would strip them bare as they had done to her, leaving them nowhere to hide. And when they looked at her again, it would not be with mockery. It would be with fear.
Slowly, she exhaled, forcing the anger to coil back into silence. Revenge wasn't a fire to be wasted recklessly—it was an ember, patient, waiting for the right breath of air to ignite into an inferno.
Her gaze shifted to the soft leather of her Casual Kelly bag resting nearby. A faint, almost ironic smile tugged at her lips.
She was no longer that insecure, naïve girl who had once trembled under their cruelty. No, she had been reborn—sharpened, refined, unstoppable. This bag was more than an accessory. It was a reminder. A silent declaration of how far she had come, and a promise of how much further she intended to go.
Her hand brushed against it lightly, a gesture that felt almost ceremonial. Never again will I bow my head. The ghosts of her past were no longer chains; they were fuel. This life will be different.
And then suddenly she heard a familiar mechanical chime of System.
[Ding... System Update Completed.
Host successfully upgraded to Level 2. Congratulations, Host.
Previous achievement: Successfully altered the fate of your family by starting a successful venture in hospitality.
New detection: Intense resentment identified. Host possesses unwavering will to rewrite personal destiny.
Main Mission Triggered,
Do you wish to accept this mission.
Y/N]
She stared at the hologram, and for a brief moment, her past flashed before her eyes. A bitter laugh escaped her throat. The system really knows when to strike.
"Accept," she said, her voice low but carrying the weight of a vow.