The next morning, Bowen sat on the edge of his bed, the jade amulet lying inert in his palm. Liang's words from the dream echoed in his mind.
"Understand your world."
The directive was simple yet daunting. Bowen had always known his knowledge was limited, especially compared to those who had the privilege of better education or broader experiences. If he wanted to rise above his circumstances, he needed to learn—everything.
After a quick breakfast of instant noodles, he grabbed his satchel and left his apartment. His first destination: the city library.
The Shanghai Library loomed large, its imposing façade a monument to knowledge. Bowen entered, feeling a sense of awe as he passed rows of shelves filled with books on every imaginable subject. The faint hum of fluorescent lights and the quiet rustle of turning pages surrounded him.
He approached the reference desk. A middle-aged librarian with glasses perched low on her nose glanced up. "How can I help you?"
"I'd like to read about history," Bowen said, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"What kind of history?"
"Everything," Bowen replied earnestly. "China, the world… anything important."
The librarian raised an eyebrow but led him to the history section. Bowen spent hours poring over books, flipping through pages about ancient dynasties, world wars, revolutions, and the rise of modern economies. He took notes feverishly, his fingers cramping from the effort.
By the time evening approached, he'd filled several pages in his notebook. His head spun with facts and dates, but a deeper understanding of the world was beginning to take shape.
That night, Bowen lay in bed, exhausted but satisfied. The jade amulet rested on his bedside table, its green surface catching the faint glow of the streetlights outside. As sleep overtook him, the familiar green mist of the dreamscape enveloped him.
Liang Ziyang stood before him, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on Bowen. "You've been busy."
Bowen nodded. "I spent the day at the library. There's so much I didn't know."
"Tell me," Liang said.
Bowen recounted the major events he'd read about: the end of World War II, the rise of China's economy, the Cold War, and the cultural and political shifts that had shaped the modern world. Liang listened intently, his expression growing more contemplative with each detail.
Finally, Liang spoke. "It's remarkable. Almost everything you've described mirrors my world's history up until 2008. The wars, the political changes—it's all familiar. But there's something missing."
"Missing?" Bowen asked.
Liang nodded. "Cultural milestones. Books, films, songs—things that shaped the spirit of my time. They don't exist here. Your timeline diverged from mine in subtle but significant ways."
Bowen frowned, struggling to grasp the implications. "So this world is like a copy of yours, but different?"
"Exactly," Liang said. "Planet Blue Star is nearly identical to my Earth, but it's in 2008 instead of 2024. And its cultural evolution is… lacking."
The realization hit Bowen like a lightning bolt. "Wait. If those books and songs don't exist here…"
Liang's eyes gleamed with approval. "Then there's an opportunity for you to create them. This world's history might align with mine, but it's 16 years behind in certain aspects. You can introduce ideas and works from the future, claiming them as your own."
Bowen's heart raced. "You mean… I could write a book? One from your time?"
"Not just any book," Liang said, his voice firm. "A masterpiece. Something that captivated millions in my world. You will be its author in this one."
"But I don't know how to write," Bowen protested.
Liang smirked. "You won't have to. I'll guide you. I'll impart the story to you, piece by piece, and you'll adapt it for this world. Think of it as a collaboration, though your name will be the one remembered."
Bowen hesitated, excitement warring with doubt. "What book are we starting with?"
Liang's expression turned thoughtful. "Something universal. A tale of ambition and survival. In my world, it was called The Firm, written by John Grisham. It was a bestseller in the 1990s."
"What's it about?" Bowen asked.
"It's the story of a young lawyer who joins a prestigious law firm, only to discover it's a front for organized crime. As he uncovers the truth, he must outsmart those around him to survive."
Bowen's eyes lit up. "That sounds incredible. But… would people here even understand it?"
"They will," Liang assured him. "Greed, power, and betrayal are universal themes. The challenge lies in adapting it to fit the culture of this world. That's where your knowledge will come in."
Bowen nodded, his resolve strengthening. "Alright. I'll do it."
Liang extended a hand, his palm glowing faintly. "Then let me give you the story. When you wake, start writing. Remember, this is only the first step. Your path to greatness begins here."
As Liang's hand touched Bowen's forehead, a wave of vivid scenes and dialogue flooded his mind. He saw the characters, the settings, the twists and turns of the plot. It was overwhelming yet exhilarating, like unlocking a secret treasure.
The dreamscape began to fade, Liang's voice echoing as Bowen woke. "Wake up, Fang Bowen. Your journey begins now."
Bowen shot up in bed, his heart pounding. The jade amulet sat on the table, as lifeless as before, but his mind was brimming with ideas. He grabbed his notebook and pen, his hands trembling as he began to write.
The words flowed effortlessly, as if they were etched into his memory. Scene after scene took shape, each one more compelling than the last. By the time the sun rose, Bowen had filled several pages, the skeleton of a novel emerging from his frantic scrawls.
He sat back, staring at his work with a mixture of disbelief and pride. The story was unlike anything he'd ever imagined writing, and yet it felt like it belonged to him.
For the first time in his life, Bowen felt the stirrings of hope—a belief that his dreams might actually be within reach. And as he prepared for another day of mundane office work, he carried with him the knowledge that he was no longer ordinary. He was a man with a plan, a man destined for greatness.