In her past life, Lin Xia remembered the name Han Huojin as a whisper of terror in the boardrooms of Shanghai. He was known as the "Ice King"—a man who bought failing state industries for pennies and turned them into global giants. In 1988, however, he wasn't a tycoon yet. He was a disgraced government official sent to the provinces to oversee "industrial efficiency."
Lin Xia knew he was currently staying at the city's municipal guesthouse, frustrated by the local corruption that was stifling the region's potential. If she wanted to build a real empire, she didn't just need money; she needed a shield.
Lin Xia didn't go to the guesthouse dressed as a village girl. She used a portion of her 50 dollars to buy a high-quality fountain pen and a leather-bound notebook. She walked past the sleeping guard with the confidence of someone who belonged there.
She found Han Huojin in the courtyard, staring at a stack of disorganized ledgers. He was twenty-six, sharp-featured, and radiated a cold, restless energy.
"The math is wrong on page four," Lin Xia said, standing behind him. "They are hiding the coal subsidies in the 'employee welfare' column."
Han Huojin didn't look back immediately. He traced the numbers with his finger, his brow furrowing. Then, he froze. He looked at the ledger, did the mental math, and realized she was right.
He turned around, his dark eyes piercing. "Who are you? A student from the university?"
"I'm a business owner," Lin Xia replied, sitting across from him without being asked. "And I'm here to offer you the one thing you can't find in this city: an honest ledger."
Han Huojin leaned back, his interest piqued despite himself.
"Honesty is a rare commodity in 1988. What's the catch?"
"I need an export license," Lin Xia said. "In three days, I will have five hundred high-value textile pieces ready for a German buyer. The village head will try to block the transport because I'm bypassing his middleman. I need a signature that he can't argue with."
Han Huojin laughed, a short, dry sound. "You want me to risk my reputation for a few blankets and shawls?"
Lin Xia leaned forward, her voice dropping to a serious tone.
"I'm not talking about shawls. I'm talking about the Special Economic Zone (SEZ) model. You've been reading the papers from Shenzhen. You know that the future isn't in state-owned coal mines; it's in light-industry manufacturing and direct foreign investment."
She opened her notebook. She didn't show him drawings of fabric. Instead, she showed him a projected growth chart of the textile industry over the next five years, based on her "predictions" of the 1990 trade boom.
Han Huojin's expression changed from amusement to genuine shock. The data was too specific, too analytical for a random girl in a provincial town.
"How do you know these numbers?" he whispered.
"I have a feeling for the wind," Lin Xia said. "And the wind is blowing toward the sea. Help me get my goods to the Peace Hotel, and I will make your 'Industrial Efficiency Report' the most successful document in the Governor's office."
Han Huojin looked at the notebook, then at the girl who seemed to see through time. For the first time in his career, he felt he wasn't the smartest person in the room.
"If you're lying to me," he said, pulling a stamp from his pocket, "I will make sure you never sell a single thread in this country again."
"And if I'm right," Lin Xia countered, "you'll be the youngest Minister of Commerce by the time you're thirty."
He stamped her permit with a heavy thud.
As Lin Xia walked away, Han Huojin called out, "Wait! What's your name?"
"Lin Xia," she said without turning back. "Remember it. You'll be reading it in the headlines soon enough."
With Han Huojin's official stamp, Lin Xia returned to the village. When Old Man Wang and Zhang Wei tried to block her truck two days later, claiming she was "stealing state resources," she simply held up the document with Han Huojin's personal seal.
The village head turned white. Zhang Wei, who had been lurking in the shadows, felt a cold shiver. He didn't know how this girl had met someone as powerful as Han Huojin, but for the first time, he felt a flicker of genuine fear.
Lin Xia wasn't just escaping him anymore; she was outrunning him at a speed he couldn't comprehend.