Chapter 1: Basketball on the Court

“Are you sure I can’t introduce you to some resources?”

“I may be leaving the industry, but I still have connections.”

“They might not be the most powerful, but for a newcomer like you, they should be plenty enough.”

On a large bed, Zhao Ji—the actress who played Lin Wan Yu in “Love Apartment”—lay with her face flushed red, her gaze silky and alluring as she watched the man sitting nearby by the floor-to-ceiling window, lost in thought.

His name was Zhang Yang, his appearance unremarkable, about on par with those Bai Guyan ancestors reading this book.

By profession, he was an actor—a minor celebrity, one of countless supporting players with barely any recognition outside their niche roles.

But now, he felt that his true identity was something far more special: a reincarnator!

Or at least, someone who had seemingly been reborn into a parallel world ten years earlier.

“No need,” Zhang Yang turned to look at Zhao Ji, a smile spreading across his face. “Even though we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend, we shouldn’t base our relationship on mutual benefit either.”

“If I accepted your help, wouldn’t I just become a freeloader?”

Had he not possessed memories from his previous life, he would have eagerly seized this opportunity without hesitation. After all, what’s wrong with using one’s wits and hard work to find shortcuts? But as a reincarnator, he felt he owed it to himself to aim higher; he couldn’t simply retrace the steps of his past existence.

“You won’t find another inn like this once we’ve passed through town.” Zhao Ji smiled gently, surprise flickering beneath her eyes.

When Zhang Yang first approached her via the theater club at the Shanghai Film Academy, his intentions were crystal clear.

He had been drawn to her handsome face and silver tongue, never resisting their closeness—a mutual arrangement where both got what they wanted.

Zhang Yang had planned to give Zhao Ji a boost before leaving the industry, hoping she’d join the Love Apartment crew, but he hadn’t expected his offer to be rejected.

Had he misjudged her after all?

“It seems so.”

Zhang Yang slowly rose and walked towards Zhao Ji.

In a twist of fate, he found himself in her place, now carrying an extra lifetime’s worth of memories.

Lin Wanyu, once his early idol, was now within reach for a deeper connection.

“I can’t let this chance slip through my fingers,” Zhang Yang thought, lifting the quilt with a smile.

“Actually, I do genuinely like you.”

Zhao Ji blinked, momentarily confused. Then realization dawned on her face.

“How did you suddenly become…”

Exhaustion finally catching up, Zhao Ji drifted off into deep sleep.

Staring at her profile, Zhang Yang began reminiscing:

“Did I get reborn? Or did I just swap lives?”

“These truck drivers must have some side gigs.”

“It’s not just side gigs; there might even be performance targets to meet.”

“I barely managed to hit it big with that viral short drama—what a cruel twist of fate.”

“My second chance at life seems quite unique indeed.”

That afternoon, while playing basketball with his roommates as part of a last-minute rescue team, he’d taken a hard knock to the head, leaving him slightly dazed.

This incident had nearly cost him several early matches against Zhao Ji, who initially dominated them effortlessly.

Of course, by now, he’d fully regained his footing—and still felt unsatisfied.

The memories in his mind had now been fully sorted out.

In both this life and the last, he was born in 1990. During his third year of high school, his parents divorced and remarried separately, leading him to rebel for a time. He fell into a state of self-destructive behavior before finally being admitted to a second-rate art university in the directing program.

After coasting through college, he refused to acknowledge his parents or accept their money. Instead, relying on his good looks that women found appealing, donkey-like talent, and decent directing skills, he drifted aimlessly at the fringes of the entertainment industry.

He rented luxurious mansions and drove nice cars. While not rich by any means, he could cover basic living expenses and even experience sights most ordinary people never would.

He made sure to pay taxes when due and didn’t sleep around indiscriminately. When it came to women, he followed the advice often attributed to Liu Bei: “Treat them with respect but keep your distance.”

As he approached his thirtieth birthday, having reached an age of maturity, he decided it was time for a change.

He wanted to venture deeper into the world of entertainment and see what other vistas awaited.

However, without connections or capital, even entering the increasingly mature web series market seemed daunting. After some thought, he decided to take a detour and start by producing a short film instead.

Scraping together several hundred thousand yuan, he acquired the rights to a popular, albeit lowbrow, feel-good novel. He enlisted some minor influencers who knew their limits well enough to play along. To his surprise, after releasing the short film, it became an instant hit.

With newfound fame and fortune, he confidently prepared to pivot towards the web series market.

Upon hearing about his success, a few former college roommates invited him for barbecue at a roadside stall, hoping to become assistant directors themselves.

Before he could even take a sip of his drink, a truck suddenly careened towards him, sending him spiraling into the afterlife.

As expected, this incident was sure to trend on more than just the entertainment news charts.

“Good news: There aren’t any embarrassing browsing histories on my phone or computer.”

“Bad news: My phone has some un-deleted videos of me ‘deeply studying acting’ with social media celebrities and third-rate actresses.”

“I hope these don’t fall into the wrong hands and get released; otherwise, I’ll become China’s answer to Guanxi Ge.”

With his headache slightly eased, Zhang Yang began recalling the differences between this life and the last.

Nothing had changed before 2004, but during a trip to Hengdian in January that year, Cai Yining, CEO of Tangren Company, took notice of him. She invited him to audition for the role of Wang Xiaohu, Li Xiaoyao’s close friend from the same village, in Sword and Fairy.

After consulting with their son, Zhang Yang’s parents decided to support his acting career. As his legal guardians, they signed a seven-year contract with Tangren, renewable for three additional years. Now, less than three years remained until it expired in January 2014. (The situation will be resolved peacefully and quickly later, showcasing the protagonist’s skills. For those curious about the details, I’ll provide further explanation.)

Following this, he embarked on his acting career in Tangren productions. In 2005, he portrayed the young version of Yang Silang in Young Heroes of the Yang Clan, then in 2006, he played the youthful Ian Zhiping in The Legend of the Condor Heroes. In 2007, he took on a supporting role in Strange Tales from Make-Believe: Xin Si-Niang.

Despite his exceptional looks and talent, Zhang Yang wasn’t given more prominent roles because he was too young at the time, lacking suitable opportunities. Moreover, Cai Yining had deep connections with Hong Kong and Taiwan, often reserving half their resources for actors from those regions.

It wasn’t until summer 2008, when Zhang Yang turned eighteen, that Cai Yining promised him the role of Xu Changqing, the male lead in Sword and Fairy III.

Zhang Yang was thrilled for days, studying the character so intensely he barely ate or slept. However, just before filming began, he received news that the role would be played by Huo Jianhua instead.

This kind of last-minute change had happened to Lin Gengxin, Liu Shishi, and others before. All Zhang Yang could say was, “Pure-blooded tradition.”

Not only did he lose the male lead role, but even the third male lead, Chong Lou, went to someone else due to his supposedly unsuitable appearance. Meanwhile, Yuan Hong secured the Yun Ting role. In the end, Zhang Yang ended up playing He Bi Ping, a minor character at Yong’an Pawn Shop.

From 2004 to 2008, in the Sword and Fairy series, from part one through three—Old Hu remained the male lead while Zhang Yang progressed from being his childhood friend to merely a shop assistant at his side. It was truly laughable; this experience soured him on Tangren productions.

In 2009, his parents divorced again due to irreconcilable differences and each remarried, leaving him once more as the unwanted third wheel. Perhaps influenced by his early involvement in the entertainment industry since middle school, he didn’t succumb to despair this time around. Instead, he excelled academically, securing top scores in both artistic and cultural assessments, which allowed him to enroll in the prestigious Shanghai Theatre Academy’s acting program.

During his studies, he focused intently on honing his acting skills and cultivating professional connections within the academy, all with an eye towards future opportunities. Along the way, he landed roles such as a supporting character in Yanhai Weiniu (Weaver of Distant Shores) and a unit protagonist in Guai Xiao Yizhi Mei (The Mysterious Laughing Plum Blossom).

Today is March 9th, 2011—the start of his second year in college, not long into the new semester.

He arrived at the basketball court with a few dorm mates for some hoops. During halftime, a stray ball smacked him squarely on the head.

This impact unlocked memories from his past life.

They fully resurfaced after meeting up with Zhao Ji later that day.

“A basketball on the court today reveals my true self?”

Zhang Yang mused wryly to himself.

He could confidently assert that he had been reborn rather than transported to another world—a conclusion drawn from the contents of his mind.

Anything related to his life experiences or the entertainment industry—be it TV shows, movies, variety programs, novels, or more—was crystal clear in his mind. He could recall details as if flipping through frames of a video.

He suspected that his obsession with the entertainment industry before rebirth was so deep that upon “sacrificing” other useless memories, he had inadvertently fortified his recollection of entertainment-related matters. This would better equip him to navigate and immerse himself in the industry; even the differences starting from 2004 were likely influenced by this fixation.

If given the chance to choose anew, however, he’d prefer for his obsession to be about money instead.

That way, he’d remember all the quickest methods to amass wealth effortlessly, becoming a tycoon overnight.

Wouldn’t leveraging such capital to forcefully infiltrate the entertainment industry be even better? It would allow one to shape the industry according to their desires.

What a pity this rebirth didn’t grant him those wishes.

“Well then, I’ll make the most of these extra decades of entertainment industry memories!”

“I’ll first break into the industry, accumulate some initial capital, and later become a big shot—a tycoon, perhaps even venture into short-form videos…”

As Zhang Yang pondered his future trajectory, suddenly, his thoughts cleared as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his mind.

Immediately after, an image appeared within his consciousness: a jade-like tome exuding a futuristic aura, inscribed with five bold characters—“Entertainment Industry Opportunities.”

The Entertainment Industry Opportunity Handbook?

Is this my cheat code?