Suyuan_Ke

Veteran coder Li Mu never expected fate to Ctrl+Z his life all the way back to 2001 - specifically, to the sweaty chaos of China's college entrance exams. When the universe hit him with this system reboot, he dusted himself off and grinned like a man who'd found cheat codes to reality.
Money? That was amateur mode.
Crashing TIME's cover? Dominating Silicon Valley? Topping Forbes lists? Meh. Intermediate achievements at best.
The true endgame required three checkpoints:
1.Becoming the Godfather to celebrities
2.Turning billionaires into fanboys
3.Playing Sugar Daddy to geniuses
And Li Mu always played to win.

Reborn in the Golden Age

Haizhou Hotel's private dining room felt cavernous with just four occupants. The oversized table forced them to cluster at one end, their voices bouncing awkwardly off empty chairs.

Seated between his parents and Chen Wan, Li Mu reveled in the relief radiating from the young woman. With medical tests confirming his minor injuries, the guilt that had weighed on her visibly lifted—even if the forehead scrape marred his boyish looks.

Li's parents had initially resisted the lavish meal, but Chen's insistence and their son's shameless enthusiasm wore them down. Thankfully, Li's mother had fetched him clean clothes during the hospital wait. Now presentable, Li Mu leaned back, cracking jokes.

"Honestly? Getting hit by that car unlocked my brain. My English used to top out at 90, but today? Easily 120-plus."

"Don't jinx it," Li's father chuckled. "Fall short, and you'll answer to me!"

"If I miss 120," Li Mu declared solemnly, "I'll never darken our doorstep again."

"Nonsense!" His mother swatted his arm. "Good or bad, you're my only son."

As Chen stifled giggles, Li Mu sighed. "Even my own mother doubts me. Wait till scores drop."

His father slapped the table. "Hit 120, and I'll buy you a laptop!"

In 2001, even basic laptops cost nearly 10,000 yuan—almost a year's salary for his father. Li Mu knew their family savings couldn't stretch that far. As a former coder, he craved a computer but refused to burden them.

"Keep your money," he said firmly. "I'll earn it myself this summer."

In an era where state-sector workers made 1,000 yuan monthly, how could a fresh graduate bag five figures in two months?

Chen tilted her head. "How, exactly? My laptop cost over 20,000 this spring." No malice, just reality-checking.

"Trust me." Li Mu's confidence wavered inwardly.

Alone with his thoughts later, cold doubt seeped in.

The internet of 2001 was a newborn. He knew its future—portals, social media, e-commerce—but timing was everything.

Hao123, already two years old, wouldn't sell to Baidu until 2004. Competing meant years of grinding. Tencent's QQ had millions of users; outcoding them solo would take months, let alone marketing. Domain squatting? Cai Wensheng already combed dictionaries for pinyin gems.

Every idea required years, not weeks.

"...computers just tempt kids to game online," Chen's voice floated through his brooding.

Li Mu's hand shot out, gripping hers. "Sis Wan," he breathed, eyes blazing. "You're a genius."

The Get-Rich-Quick Scheme