Chapter 1 The Basketball Comes Flying on the Court

“Do you really not want me to introduce you to some contacts?”
“I may be about to leave the industry, but I still have some connections.”
“They might not be anything extraordinary, but for someone new like you, they're more than enough.”

On a large bed, Zhao Qi, who played Lin Wanyu in "Love Apartment," lay with flushed cheeks and eyes hazy with affection, gazing at the man sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, lost in thought.

His name was Zhang Yang. His looks were rather ordinary, not much different from the average reader of this book. He was an actor by trade, though to be more precise, he was an unknown, barely-scraping-by minor celebrity with only a few minor roles to his name.

But now, he believed his most unique identity was that of a returnee—someone who had seemingly gone back in time ten years, into a parallel world.

“No need.”

Zhang Yang turned to Zhao Qi, a smile appearing on his face. “We may not be lovers, but our relationship shouldn’t be one of mere exchange of benefits either.”

“If I accepted your help, wouldn’t that make me a kept man for real?”

If he didn’t carry memories from his previous life, he would have accepted this offer without a moment’s hesitation.
After all, if you can take a shortcut with your abilities and hard work, why refuse out of pride?

But as a man reborn, he felt he ought to have some backbone—he couldn’t just walk the old path again.

“Miss this chance, and you won’t get another.”
“After tonight, I’m off to travel the world—you’ll hardly ever see me again.”

Zhao Qi smiled softly, a hint of surprise flickering in her eyes.
When Zhang Yang first sought her out through the university drama club, his intentions had been clear.
She herself liked his handsome face and glib tongue, so she didn’t refuse him. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
She’d thought to give him a push into the cast of “Love Apartment” before retiring—never expecting him to turn her down.
Had she misjudged him?

“True,” Zhang Yang said, rising slowly and walking toward her.

Like the butterfly dreaming of Zhuangzi—he was still himself, but now, with another lifetime’s worth of memories.
Lin Wanyu had once been a white moonlight figure for him in his early days. Now, he had the chance for a deeper connection.

“I can’t miss this opportunity.”

He pulled back the covers, a smile spreading across his lips.
“To be honest, I simply like you.”

Zhao Qi: ?
Zhao Qi: !

“How did you become so...”

Under the weight of exhaustion, Zhao Qi soon fell into a deep sleep.
As he watched her sleeping profile, Zhang Yang began to remember.

“Did I really reincarnate? Or did I transmigrate?”
“These truck drivers must have side jobs.”
“Not just side jobs—maybe even performance targets to meet.”
“I’d finally managed to create a hit short drama and get a foothold—what a twist of fate.”
“My rebirth seems to have some special circumstances.”

That afternoon, he’d been playing basketball with his roommates. During the game, a basketball struck his head, leaving him dazed. It was thanks to this that he almost lost the first few rounds with Zhao Qi earlier.
Of course, he’d now regained his composure, and even felt insatiable.

He’d already sorted through the new memories in his mind.
In both his past and present lives, he was born in 1990. His parents divorced and remarried when he was in his final year of high school, which left him rebellious and adrift for a while. He eventually entered a second-rate arts university, majoring in directing.

After graduating, he wanted nothing to do with his parents. He refused any financial support, choosing instead to rely on his face—favored by wealthy women—his almost mule-like stamina, and his decent directing skills to scrape by on the fringes of the entertainment industry.

He rented a nice apartment, drove a decent car, never had much money but managed his basic needs, and saw sights most ordinary people never would.
He paid taxes when he should and refrained from sleeping with those he shouldn’t. As for women—well, as Liu Bei often said...
It wasn’t until he turned thirty in 2020 that he decided to change his life and see what lay deeper in the entertainment world.

But lacking any capital background, he couldn’t even break into the now-booming web drama market. After some thought, he decided to take a detour and shoot a short drama first.
He scraped together a few hundred thousand to buy the rights to a popular, sensational web novel, hired some small-time internet celebrities he knew well, and, to his surprise, the drama went viral upon release.

Flush with fame and fortune, he was preparing to move into web dramas in earnest.
Hearing of his success, several college buddies invited him out for barbecue, hoping to become assistant directors.
But before they even started drinking, a truck suddenly careened over and sent him spiraling into the sky.

If nothing else, he’d have made the trending searches, and not just on entertainment news.

“The good news is, there are no socially damning browsing histories on my phone or computer.”
“The bad news is, there are some videos with internet models and minor actresses where we were ‘studying acting’ together that I never deleted.”
“Hopefully no one finds and leaks those, or I’ll be the next Edison Chen.”

His headache easing, Zhang Yang began to reflect on the differences between this life and his previous one.
Everything before 2004 was the same, but in January 2004, while traveling in Hengdian, he was noticed by Tangren’s CEO, Cai Yinong, who invited him to play Wang Xiaohu, the protagonist’s childhood friend in “Chinese Paladin.”
After asking for his opinion, his parents decided to support his acting career, signing a seven-plus-three year contract with Tangren on his behalf as guardians, with less than three years remaining. The contract would expire in January 2014.

After that, he began his acting career with Tangren: in 2005, he played the young Yang Silang in “The Young Warriors”; in 2006, the young Yin Zhiping in “The Legend of the Condor Heroes”; in 2007, a supporting role in “Strange Tales of Liao Zhai”; and many other bit parts besides.

He was good-looking and talented. The reason Cai Yinong didn’t push him into bigger roles was simply that he was too young, and there weren’t suitable parts, plus Cai Yinong’s deep connections with Hong Kong and Taiwan meant half the resources went to actors from there.

It wasn’t until the summer of 2008, when he turned eighteen, that Cai Yinong promised him the second male lead Xu Changqing in “Chinese Paladin 3.”
He was so excited that he studied the character obsessively, sacrificing sleep and meals, only to be told right before filming that the role had gone to Wallace Huo instead.
This sort of thing happened to others like Lin Gengxin and Liu Shishi too—Zhang Yang could only sigh at the “pure bloodlines.”

Not only was the promised second lead denied him, but even the third male lead, Chong Lou, was said to not suit his image, and that went to someone else. The role of Yun Ting was given to Yuan Hong, and in the end, all he got was He Bipin, an assistant in the Yong’an pawnshop.

From 2004 to 2008, from “Chinese Paladin 1” to “Chinese Paladin 3,” the older Hu went from male lead to male lead, while Zhang Yang went from the protagonist’s village friend to his shop assistant—a ridiculous trajectory that left him resentful towards Tangren.

In 2009, his parents once again divorced and remarried due to emotional breakdowns, making him the odd one out. But perhaps because he’d been in the industry since middle school, this time he didn’t spiral into self-destruction. In the college entrance exams, he was accepted into the Shanghai Theatre Academy’s acting department with the highest scores in both the arts and academics.

Afterwards, he focused on honing his craft and building connections at school, preparing for his future. During this time, he played supporting roles in “Weaving Beauty” and a lead in a single episode of “Strange Hero Yi Zhi Mei.”

Today was March 9, 2011—just after the start of his second semester, sophomore year.
He’d been playing basketball with his roommates, and during halftime, a ball hit him on the head.
That blow brought back all his past life’s memories.
And after meeting Zhao Qi, they returned in full.

“A basketball on the court, and today I realize I am still myself?”
Zhang Yang mused, half-mocking himself.

He was fairly certain he’d been reborn rather than transmigrated, based on the memories in his mind.
Anything connected to his life, or the entertainment industry—dramas, films, variety shows, novels—was crystal clear, retrievable in vivid detail.
He suspected that his obsession with showbiz before his rebirth led him to “sacrifice” all other useless memories, deepening those connected to the industry to help him navigate it. The changes since 2004 were likely a result of this obsession.

But if he had a choice, he would have preferred his obsession to be with wealth.
Then he’d remember all the quickest ways to make money and easily become a major player.
Wouldn’t it be better to invade the entertainment industry with capital?
He could even shape it as he wished.
What a waste of this second chance at life.

“Since that’s how it is, I’ll use these extra years of showbiz knowledge to play the game well!”
“I’ll break into the industry and build my foundation, and later become a tycoon—maybe start a short video platform or something...”

As Zhang Yang contemplated his future path, his mind suddenly cleared, as if some heavy burden had been lifted.
Immediately after, a technology-infused jade tome appeared in his mind, inscribed with five bold characters: “Entertainment Industry Opportunities.”

“Entertainment Industry Opportunity Manual?”
“Is this my cheat code?”