Shanghai, 2008. The city was a dazzling blend of the old and the new. Towering skyscrapers rose like glass monoliths alongside narrow alleyways where time seemed to stand still. The world's financial crisis loomed over the global economy, but here, amidst the bustling crowds and honking cars, life moved forward relentlessly.
For Fang Bowen, however, life felt stagnant.
Bowen adjusted his too-large blazer, a hand-me-down from a former coworker, as he hurried through the early morning crowd. His breath fogged in the crisp autumn air, and his scuffed shoes slapped against the pavement. The streets were alive with opportunities for some, but for Bowen, they seemed like an endless maze of dead ends.
At 23, Bowen had no family to rely on. He'd grown up in a crowded orphanage where hope was scarce, and luck was even rarer. After scraping through school, he'd landed a low-level clerical job at Dongfang Textiles, a small company struggling to stay relevant in a rapidly globalizing market.
But Bowen wasn't one to accept his lot in life quietly. His heart burned with dreams of wealth and success—dreams that felt impossible to achieve.
The office buzzed with activity when Bowen arrived. The open floor plan, filled with rows of outdated computers and stacks of paperwork, was a far cry from the sleek offices featured in the business magazines he pored over during his breaks.
Bowen slipped into his corner cubicle, setting his tattered satchel down by his chair. His desk was cluttered with receipts, spreadsheets, and half-used pens, a reflection of the mundane tasks that consumed his days.
Across the room sat Zhang Lin, the company's star employee. She was sharp, capable, and beautiful in a way that turned heads wherever she went. Her tailored suit and immaculate posture radiated professionalism, and she handled every challenge with an ease that Bowen could only admire from a distance.
He stole a glance at her, as he often did, wishing he had half her confidence.
"Fang Bowen!"
The bark of Manager Chen's voice jolted him back to reality. Bowen looked up to see the middle-aged manager striding toward him, a bundle of documents in hand.
"Yes, Manager Chen?" Bowen said, standing quickly.
"Take these to the client and make sure they're signed before the end of the day," Chen ordered, thrusting the papers into Bowen's hands.
"Yes, sir," Bowen replied, bowing slightly before heading out the door.
The client's office was on the other side of the city, a long bus ride away. Bowen spent the journey staring out the window, watching the city rush by. Skyscrapers and construction cranes loomed over bustling markets and crowded apartment buildings. Shanghai was growing, transforming into an international powerhouse, but Bowen felt as if he were being left behind.
After the meeting, he treated himself to a bowl of street-side noodles, savoring the warmth as it filled his stomach. On his way back to the office, his route took him through a bustling flea market, a place he loved for its unpredictability.
Stalls lined the narrow lanes, overflowing with trinkets, antiques, and oddities. Vendors called out to passersby, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony. Bowen wandered through the maze of goods, letting his mind drift.
At one stall, an intricate jade amulet caught his eye. It lay nestled among a pile of faded books and tarnished coins, its green surface shimmering faintly in the sunlight.
"What's this?" Bowen asked, picking it up.
The elderly vendor behind the stall looked up, a knowing smile on his wrinkled face. "Ah, you have a good eye. That's a special piece—said to bring fortune to its owner."
Bowen examined the amulet closely. It was cool to the touch, its carved patterns intricate and mysterious. "How much?"
"A hundred yuan," the vendor said.
Bowen frowned. A hundred yuan was more than he could spare. "That's too expensive."
"For you," the vendor said after a pause, "fifty yuan. But only because I see potential in you."
Bowen hesitated, weighing his options. The amulet seemed to call to him, as if it held some unseen power. Finally, he handed over the money, clutching the amulet tightly as he walked away.
That evening, Bowen sat on his small bed, staring at the jade amulet. His cramped apartment, barely big enough for a bed and a desk, felt even smaller under the weight of his thoughts.
He ran his fingers over the amulet's smooth surface. "What am I doing?" he muttered, shaking his head. "I don't even believe in this stuff."
Still, he placed it on the bedside table before lying down. Sleep came quickly, pulling him into its depths.
A voice echoed in the darkness.
"Who dares disturb my slumber?"
Bowen opened his eyes—or at least, it felt like he did. He was in a strange dreamscape, surrounded by swirling green mist. The jade amulet floated before him, glowing faintly.
From the mist emerged a man in a sharp, modern suit. He was tall and commanding, with slicked-back hair and an air of authority.
"I am Liang Ziyang," the man declared, his voice deep and resonant. "In my time, I was the wealthiest man on Earth. And now, I am bound to this jade amulet."
Bowen stared, his mouth dry. "What… what do you want with me?"
Liang smirked. "It is not what I want—it is what you want. I can see your ambition, your hunger for success. I can teach you the secrets to achieve greatness, but only if you have the courage to follow my lead."
Bowen's heart raced. "You can make me rich?"
"Rich?" Liang laughed, his voice echoing through the mist. "I can make you a legend. But heed this: I can only appear to you in your dreams. My knowledge will guide you, but in the waking world, the choices will be yours."
The mist swirled faster, and Liang's figure began to fade. "Prepare yourself, Fang Bowen. The path to greatness is not easy, but it is worth every step."
Bowen tried to speak, but the dream dissolved before he could respond.
He woke with a start, sunlight streaming through the single window of his apartment. The jade amulet sat lifeless on his bedside table, its green surface dull.
"What a weird dream," Bowen muttered, rubbing his temples. "Can't believe I almost thought it was real."
He picked up the amulet, turning it over in his hands, but it was just an ordinary piece of stone. Shaking his head, he got ready for work, the memory of the dream fading as the day wore on.
By the time he returned home that evening, exhaustion had taken over. He barely managed to eat a quick meal before collapsing onto his bed, the jade amulet still tucked into his pocket.
That night, as Bowen drifted into a deep sleep, the voice returned.
"Fool," Liang's voice rumbled, pulling Bowen back into the dreamscape. "I am real. I can only appear when you sleep, in your dreams."
Bowen's eyes widened. "You… you're real?"
Liang smirked. "Of course I am. Did you think your pitiful imagination could conjure me?"
Overwhelmed by a mix of awe and joy, Bowen asked, "What do I need to do?"
Liang's eyes gleamed. "The first step is knowledge. Understand your world, its history, its people. Only then can you seize the opportunities before you."
"I'll impart some memories about my world to you, try to find out how similar or different both worlds are."
As the dream faded, Bowen awoke with a newfound determination. For the first time in his life, he felt like his ambition had a purpose, a guide, and a spark of hope.