Volume One: The Life of a Wealthy Landlord

Chapter 1: Bro, I’ve Made It!

William Foster was very happy. As a wage earner, he actually won a five-day trip to America in a lottery.

“Can I exchange it for cash?” William Foster sat in his cramped rental room, eagerly waiting for a response on the other end of the phone.

“Sorry sir, you can’t!”

Unwilling to give up, William Foster continued to ask, “Then can I give this opportunity to someone else?” He had already thought it through—Little Smith from the same workshop had always dreamed of traveling abroad. If he offered it at half price, the guy would definitely agree.

“Sorry, you can’t! This lottery is tied to your ID card, so only the winner has the right to use it.”

“Damn!”

...

Three days later, New York City.

Following the tour guide ahead, William Foster lazily walked at the back, with New York Harbor just to his left—a major port with an annual throughput of over a hundred million tons.

In the blazing August heat, several large ships were docked outside the port, and those transport trucks, like worker bees, were hauling goods from the massive warehouses to the ships.

“Wow! So many warehouses, and they’re huge!” a middle-aged woman exclaimed, pointing at the expanse of warehouses, and was then stunned by the open-air storage yards and container areas.

A man nearby boasted, “This is the largest port in America. Food, daily necessities, all kinds of industrial products come in and out here. There must be at least a million tons of goods stored in this area.”

At that moment, a refrigerated truck drove from the dock toward the warehouse. There was a large black spot at the rear of the truck, like a black hole. From the side, the black spot seemed to cross directly over the sea, with no telling where it led.

The black hole gradually expanded in place, swallowing everything around it.

“Ah! A ghost, run!” The woman was the first to notice something strange, and with agility that didn’t match her plump figure, she sprinted in the opposite direction.

“Run!” People at the dock and in the tour group all fled for their lives, and William Foster was no exception.

The black hole expanded faster and faster, soon engulfing the entire warehouse district, then the open-air storage yard...

“Bro is a sprinting champion, just you wait. Uh...” William Foster, who was at the very back of the group, had just started to run, but the black hole was already upon him...

...

Yongle Era, Beiping—To avoid censorship, it’ll be called Beiping from now on!!!

Former Ministry of Personnel official Henry Foster passed away peacefully and was to be buried today.

As someone dismissed by the emperor, Henry Foster died depressed at just thirty-five. For his funeral, his only son William Foster was truly filial, even selling the main house to ensure the funeral was properly arranged.

But just as the funeral ended, a matchmaker, ignoring taboos, came to the door.

After the matchmaker left satisfied with the documents and tokens, a scream rang out in the Foster residence, which was about to move...

“Someone come quickly! Young master has fainted!”

...

Three years later...

...Three years of mourning is what every filial son should do, but after moving out of the Foster residence to a small manor on the outskirts of Beiping, William Foster was quite content, because he was always in a daze and didn’t have to follow all those tedious rules.

This small manor had over three hundred mu of land and employed more than forty families. The land was fairly fertile, but the people’s hearts were a bit unsettled.

In a three-courtyard residence, a man in his forties was directing two servants to remove the mourning decorations.

“Mr. Foster, the young master is awake! The young master is awake!”

A maid in a blue vest ran over excitedly, holding a bowl full of milk. Ignoring the difference between men and women, she grabbed the middle-aged man’s sleeve and dragged him toward the back courtyard.

Jason Foster’s mouth twitched, clutching his chest, and hurried after the maid.

In a bedroom in the main house, William Foster had woken up. He struggled to move his stiff body, looking fearfully at the antique room.

“Where am I? Wasn’t I just outside New York Harbor?”

Looking at his pale, thin arm, and then feeling his long hair, William Foster felt depressed.

“Young master, are you really awake? Little White, if you dare lie to me, I... I...”

After a burst of footsteps, a middle-aged man rushed in. When he saw William Foster sitting by the bed, tears streamed down his face.

“Young master! Wuwuwu!”

Looking at the two anciently dressed people kneeling and wailing, William Foster was shocked.

Did I transmigrate?

And I’m a young master?

William Foster’s eyes darted around, and he put on a “kind” smile, trembling as he reached out a hand in a gesture of support: “You may rise, I feel a bit dizzy.”