Chapter One: Magic

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I give you magic,
Escape from reality,
Fiery and cold at once,
Be my king, my slave, oh~

The ringtone jolted Zhang Qianjun awake. He grabbed his phone and answered.

"Son, your father and I have a dinner engagement tonight. We'll eat out. Make something for yourself."

"Alright, got it."

He hung up absentmindedly. Just as he was about to rise from his desk, Zhang Qianjun was struck by a strange feeling.

Why call me just to say they'll eat out tonight? And this phone—a black Nokia, full keyboard, isn't this the Nokia E63 I bought in my sophomore year?

He surveyed his surroundings. Before him stood a wide, reddish-brown solid wood desk pushed up against the wall, with a simple bookshelf stacked with various books. On his left sat a heavy black laptop, the ThinkPad logo gleaming in dark silver. To his right were a pen holder and a brand-new desk calendar, open to the first page—October 2009.

And then, the most unsettling thing: a book, red cover with white and gold lettering, ordinary in size yet radiating unspeakable dread, making him instinctively avert his gaze.

"Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Mock Tests"—Mathematics.

He opened the workbook and stared at the pages filled with numbers and symbols, feeling a sudden wave of dizziness.

He rose from his chair and inspected the house and the view outside twice over; then went to the bathroom, stripped, and examined himself in the mirror. Six-pack abs—this wasn’t the post-work flabby version.

Dressed again, he returned to his room. He picked up his phone and carefully searched online via his laptop. At last, Zhang Qianjun confirmed one thing.

He was unimaginably lucky. Some powerful existence from the multiverse had favored him. He had been reborn—or perhaps, transmigrated.

The only flaw: he had crossed over just before the college entrance exam...

"October 1st, 2009. What a powerful National Day gift," Zhang Qianjun murmured.

"But how am I supposed to explain to my parents that their son, who used to score five hundred seventy or eighty in mock exams, is now a fool who might not even score two hundred fifty?"

As for the future, Zhang Qianjun was filled with anticipation and confidence. Rebirth—forums had discussed it to death. Go back in time, and whatever you do is an ace up the sleeve. Ten-digit sums are challenging, but nine digits? Easy.

The advantage of information asymmetry, no matter how many butterfly effects, could never be erased. It was like opening a side story in a finished novel, crafting a future uniquely his own, with the entire book as his backing. No matter how poorly the side story protagonist performed, it wouldn’t be too bad.

Out of habit from his previous career, Zhang Qianjun drafted a resume for himself.

Zhang Qianjun, male, born February 13, 1992. Height: 178 cm. Weight: 74 kg. Resident of Qiantang. Senior high school liberal arts student.

Personal advantages: over a decade of advanced experience.

Talents: decent singing—can hold his own at karaoke; knows a bit of breakdancing—enough to perform at a company gala.

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Current assets: 323 yuan in cash, a Nokia E63 phone, and a Lenovo ThinkPad-T6400 laptop.

College entrance exam knowledge reserve: If the exam were tomorrow, English would be a strong subject—100 points shouldn’t be a problem. Chinese, maybe 80. Liberal arts comprehensive, 50 points would be a stretch. Mathematics depends on how many multiple-choice questions he could guess—upper limit: 60, lower limit: 0.

He faced two problems: 1. What to do about the college entrance exam? 2. How to make money next.

In 2009, the country was developing rapidly. Not to mention the soon-to-arrive J-20 fighter and carrier 16, an ordinary citizen could open a Taobao shop, buy clothes from the wholesale market, and live comfortably.

If he took out loans for properties in booming real estate developments, invested in stocks like Tencent and Moutai, his future life would be secure.

Moreover, after 2014, the era of 4G would arrive: livestreaming, esports, online video platforms, short videos, self-media—all were opportunities.

He couldn’t create a high-end platform himself, but the threshold for livestreaming, short videos, and self-media was low. He could be a content creator. He knew what kinds of shows worked, what content attracted audiences—after years of watching, he’d picked up plenty.

Even running a relationship advice channel—first targeting female traffic, making some easy money, then switching to appeal to men once the version updates became extreme. Another wave of traffic. Where there’s traffic, there’s money. With enough money, he could start an influencer incubator. Once he was famous, he could sell products—life would be beautiful.

Besides, he had a decent appearance and could sing. If he copied all the songs he could remember and registered their copyrights, then turned on a livestream filter, sang, discussed relationships, played the role of an honest emotional counselor, and made predictions about the future, wouldn’t that make him a ready-made internet celebrity?

Who knows, maybe he could act in a drama with Sister Xia, maybe even overshadow her? Hahaha—perhaps he could find an entertainment industry starlet from the 85, 90, or 95 generations? Entertainment industry money was easy—the only time a bank card with just a million was considered dire. If he couldn’t hit the jackpot, at least some lesser winnings. If he couldn’t get a starlet, a personal idol would do—he wasn’t picky ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ.

As he mused, Zhang Qianjun’s lips curled unconsciously.

"Detected the host’s yearning for the entertainment industry, emotional fluctuation meets system activation criteria. System will load entertainment industry auxiliary plug-in from host’s cognition."

"Detecting..."

"Loading complete. Obtained Certain Point’s Multiverse Entertainment System. Since this plug-in is not original, the system will simplify and modify according to actual circumstances."

"Beep. Simplification complete."

"Entertainment Industry King System: When the host works in entertainment, corresponding points will be awarded based on remuneration. If the host is the primary protagonist of the project, he receives all corresponding points from total output, which can be used to guarantee minimum box office earnings for movies."

"Detected host’s physique does not meet the average of main protagonists across multiverse entertainment planes. System will initiate physical enhancement and evolution."

"Enhancement period: 144 days.
Enhancement goal: Physical attractiveness to match the average of main protagonists across entertainment planes.
During enhancement, the system will switch to standby mode to conserve energy until completion and restart.
Enhancement in progress. Host, please ensure energy intake."

⊙∀⊙! Wait, system? System, come out!

A stream of text suddenly flashed through his mind—swiftly as it appeared, it vanished. Zhang Qianjun only remembered a few keywords: absolute protagonist, points, 144 days. When he tried to look closer, the system was gone. No matter how he called, it didn’t respond. It felt like a dream.

Reborn with a system—was this an invincible protagonist story?

Never mind, it didn’t seem like a bad thing. And given his current academic skills—unable to understand even basic formulas—art college might really be a way out. He remembered that most art schools required just 300 points. 300, with some cramming, should be achievable.

With that, Zhang Qianjun analyzed his prospects for applying to an art college.

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Cultivation emphasizes resources, partners, methods, and location—so does undertaking any enterprise.

Resources: With money, things go smoothly, applicable across worlds.

Partners: Simply put, a startup team—be it a couple running a shop, a family business, or a large tech company, it always starts with a core team. This could wait; let it happen naturally. Walk alone, you go fast; walk together, you go far. When you move quickly enough, others will hitch a ride to help.

Methods: With a plug-in system, what method could surpass it? Deep Blue?

Location: From 2010 onwards, China will be a paradise for those aspiring to work in entertainment—a spiritual explosion, a super blessed land, with no better place throughout history and across the globe.

"This system shouldn’t be called Entertainment Industry King—it should be called Child of Destiny."

Next came two important and urgent tasks: convincing his parents to let him take the art college entrance exam, and...

A click sounded from the living room—the door lock. Zhang Qianjun poked his head out: his parents had already entered and were hanging up their coats.

"Have you eaten? We brought you some food."

His mother casually handed him a bag.

Seeing his parents, so much younger and with black hair, Zhang Qianjun suddenly felt a rush of emotion, his nose tingling, eyes moist. He quickly lowered his head and took the bag, heading into the kitchen.

"Not yet. Haven’t decided what to eat."

"Knew you wouldn’t have eaten. Heat it up in the microwave."

In the kitchen, Zhang Qianjun swiftly wiped away his tears and asked,

"Why are you back so soon?"

"We wanted to go to City Balcony to watch the fireworks show, but there were too many people—the car couldn’t move at all. We turned back at the intersection, dropped off Uncle Zhao and his wife, and came home."

His father, having changed into slippers, added, "It’s National Day, of course there are crowds. And with the subway construction, roads are dug up everywhere. It’d be strange if it wasn’t congested. I told you it’d be jammed, but you didn’t believe me. Even if you managed to park, with so many people, you wouldn’t get anywhere near the front."

"Well, it’s worth checking out. City fireworks—haven’t seen them in years."

His mother made it clear that the traffic jam wasn’t her fault.

After dinner, Zhang Qianjun washed the dishes. His mother watched TV in the living room—Zhang Jiayi was advertising for Land Rover. His father sat in the study, watching the national football team on the computer, not looking pleased.

Zhang Qianjun thought, At least you can still watch the national team now—give it a few years, you’ll see what ‘magical’ really means. In his past life, before long his father stopped watching football altogether out of frustration, fearing a heart attack, and switched to women’s volleyball. Volleyball was good—fun to watch and, most importantly, wins.

Heh, Zhang Chunri, after eighteen years of raising a son, now’s the time for your full support. When I make it big, I’ll take you to watch the World Cup live; if I get even bigger, we’ll sponsor a village league for you.

He entered the study and closed the door.

"Dad, do you have a moment? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you."