I'm reborn and I'm an international student again?

"What's going on? Why is the stock price falling instead of rising?" After Wang Xianqi left, Chen Xi stared at the computer screen with a furrowed brow.

It was nighttime in America, and the stock market had already closed.

Seeing the agricultural stocks he had carefully selected fall again, Chen Xi dialed Kosuke Saeki's number, puzzled.

"Old man, what's going on with the stock prices of those companies in America?"

"Don't you read the news? They're preparing to introduce the FIRRMA bill." Kosuke Saeki replied irritably.

"FIRRMA Act?"

Chen Xi was no stranger to this name.

This is an abbreviation for the Foreign Investment Risk Review Modernization Act, a landmark in the foreign investment review system.

Although the bill does not explicitly name any countries, it requires stricter scrutiny of transactions involving countries of particular concern.

As for which countries are of particular concern, that is naturally defined by the United States itself.

"But what does this have to do with the stock price drop? Our shareholders are all legitimate American citizens." Chen Xi scratched his head, still puzzled.

Having been reborn, Chen Xi had already made preparations for this. Although the people he arranged were of Asian appearance, they all held American citizenship. According to his understanding of the law, the vetting standard should be the transaction itself and its control, not race or nationality.

"Take a look at other news articles," Kosuke Saeki said gravely.

Curious, Chen Xi clicked on the latest financial news, and several eye-catching headlines immediately popped up.

The concept of "Asian American subgrouping" is familiar to many. It refers to the further subdivision of the broad category of Asian Americans into specific ethnic groups such as Chinese, Indonesian, Filipino, Vietnamese, Korean, and Japanese Americans in the U.S. Census and education data collection.

This concept was first proposed two years ago when California passed a law requiring the state’s public higher education and healthcare systems to segment data when collecting information on Asian Americans.

This policy has been highly controversial within the Asian American community, and its re-emergence, coupled with the introduction of the FIRRMA Act, makes it difficult not to link Asian Americans with national security issues.

"Isn't this creating internal division? What exactly is that fat guy trying to do? It can't just be about speculating on stocks, can it?" Chen Xi chuckled dryly.

"How would I know? Even Americans can't understand his actions after he took office, let alone a foreigner like me," Kosuke Saeki said helplessly.

As a nation of immigrants, the United States has many publicly listed companies controlled by Asians or foreigners. This move has offended both capitalists and a large number of Asian immigrants.

However, as a reborn person, Chen Xi knew the fat man's style of changing his mind frequently, so he decided to wait and see.

"Let's wait and see. This kind of thing will definitely trigger demonstrations, and maybe it will just fizzle out in a few days. The combined impact of these two things is too great, and it might even drag down the economy there."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too, so I wasn't in a hurry to contact you. By the way, have you done anything to upset my daughter lately?" Kosuke Saeki suddenly asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw several mannequins with your name on them in the training room at home. Kakashi and that Korean girl often punched and kicked them..."

"Huh? How could that be? We have an old saying here, 'Spare the rod and spoil the child, scold him as a sign of affection.' I think Kakashi must be missing me," Chen Xi explained shamelessly.

"Buzz!"

"Buzz!"

As soon as he hung up the phone, Chen Xi's phone started vibrating incessantly.

The text message notification sounds came in rapid succession, and the screen froze for a moment.

"Holy crap, it's infected with a virus?" Chen Xi's face darkened as he looked at his almost completely disabled phone.

About five minutes later, the flood of messages gradually subsided. Chen Xi immediately restarted his phone, and it finally returned to normal.

"Shoushan Financial: Chen Xi and Wang Xianqi are suspected of loan fraud. We have verified that you work for Huahetong, Xunjie, Qulahuo and other companies. We will contact the persons in charge step by step until the debt is settled. Repayment reply S, refuse to accept reply R."

"Shoushan Financial: Hello Chen Xi, Wang Xianqi is maliciously defaulting on payments. We will investigate Huahetong Co., Ltd. and contact HR and finance to verify the situation. Any consequences will be borne by the individual. We will refuse to accept any replies."

His inbox was flooded with hundreds of random debt collection text messages.

"Fuck you, are you sick in the head?! I didn't borrow any money, what's wrong with you! You even know the inside story of my company, are you more skilled than a detective?" Chen Xi couldn't help but curse out.

He had learned about Shoushan Financial in his previous life; it was a debt collection company that specialized in sending harassing messages.

Registered in Shanghai but originating in Guangdong, this company frequently harasses unrelated individuals. Despite numerous complaints, it remains unscathed, truly deserving the title of a "cyber black market hub."

"Trying to mess with me, huh? Let's see who gets the last laugh." Looking at his overflowing text message inbox, Chen Xi immediately dialed Xing Tian's number: "I need to develop software that integrates spam call blocking, text message filtering, and one-click complaint functions. Go and coordinate with Alibaba..."

"Huh? Why do this? It doesn't seem to make any money," Xing Tian said, puzzled.

"Think long-term! There are so many nuisance calls and text messages these days, how many people are driven crazy by them? Once you build up your user base, there will be plenty of ways to monetize it later," Chen Xi explained.

Since it was a task assigned by his boss, Xing Tian thought about it and could only grit his teeth and agree.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Wang Xianqi looked at the screen full of debt collection text messages and disdainfully tossed his phone aside.

He has always dismissed such threats.

His approach was simple.

Take a nap first, and you'll forget everything when you wake up the next day.

But after lying down, he felt restless and couldn't fall asleep. He casually opened his phone to scroll through short videos and unintentionally came across many inspirational stories of celebrities.

Most people have someone they admire. In Wang Xianqi's view, one of the most successful businessmen in China is not one of the regulars on the rich list, but rather Mr. Jia, who has already moved to the United States.

Wang Xianqi has always liked to make money by talking, and in his eyes, someone like Jia Riting, who can raise huge sums of money with just a few words, is a real talent!

While watching Mr. Jia's inspirational video, Wang Xianqi suddenly had a flash of inspiration: If Mr. Jia can raise funds by bragging, why can't he?

An island nation, Fukuoka Prefecture, the Saeki family.

"what!"

"drink!"

Kim Nana, unarmed, and Saori, wielding a bamboo sword, launched a fierce attack on the dummy.

A few minutes later, Jin Nana kicked the dummy away and collapsed to the ground, panting.

She wiped her sweat-dampened hair and looked at Saori, who was lying sprawled out beside her: "How boring. Chen Xi didn't even take us with him when he went back."

Chen Xi has been gone for a while now, not too long, not too short. The two women spend their days either shopping or chatting, and life is becoming increasingly dull.

"Why don't we go find him?" Jin Nana suddenly suggested when Saori didn't answer.

“Chen Xi is probably busy. Going over there rashly would disturb him.” Saori sat up and took a sip of water.

"What are you so busy with? He's probably seeing other women again. You're too considerate. We can't ignore him. We need to find a reason to go over there." Jin Nana rolled her eyes.

“That’s a good idea. We can open a branch of KURIMU. I’ve heard that the influencer economy is popular there now, and most of the food is pre-made. If we make some freshly made international flavors, it should be popular.”

Saori and Zhao Lingshan are still neck and neck, but Jin Nana's words gave her a flash of inspiration. KURIMU is their first entrepreneurial project in Australia, and she doesn't want to give up now.

"Great idea! I didn't expect you to be so clever." Jin Nana rubbed Saori's head, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons with laughter.

Without further ado, the two women immediately got up and went to the study to make careful plans before heading to the neighboring country to make their mark.

Across the distant ocean.

In Washington, D.C., crowds gathered on Pennsylvania Avenue in unprecedented numbers.

This is not a traditional anti-war or labor rights march.

The signs read, “Investment knows no borders, innovation knows no race,” “FIRRMA is killing the American dream,” and “We are not pawns of the government.”

The crowd was diverse, with Asian tech entrepreneurs wearing hoodies standing next to Wall Street investment managers in suits.

Midwestern factory owners held up signs that read, "We want investment, not protectionism."
Asian student groups on university campuses wore matching T-shirts that read, "I am an American, not a threat."

It all started with a social media storm a few days ago.

In the investment section, a startup CEO named Chen Minghua posted: "After three years of negotiations, investors from Country H withdrew their $2000 million investment due to FIRRMA review. What will happen to my 50 employees?"

On Twitter regarding FIRRMA, Silicon Valley venture capitalist Sarah Johnson posted: "The bill uses national security as a pretext for economic protection. Startups need global capital!"

On Facebook, Asian American college students made a video explaining how “Asian American disaggregation” divides the community, with the background music being “This Is America”.

At this moment, at the forefront of the march, Ken Matsumoto, an American businessman of Japanese descent, held up a copy of the Constitution in one hand and his company's bankruptcy documents in the other: "I employed 200 people in California, but just because a shareholder has an island nation background, financing became risky. Is this the American dream?"

In the crowd, a little Vietnamese girl asked her mother, "Why are they angry with the leader?"

The mother answered softly, "Because he feels we are different."

Mike Wilson, a machine shop owner from Ohio, walks side by side with his Chinese-American partner.

"I've worked with Li for twenty years. He modernized the factory and saved three hundred jobs. Now the government says this kind of cooperation threatens national security?"

Protesters spontaneously formed a human chain, passing water and food along with each other.

Faces of different skin colors stood together under a banner that read, "We are all investors, we are all creators."

On the steps of Capitol Hill, several cross-party members of Congress gave speeches.

Representative XX criticized: "The bill is being abused and harming legitimate business activities."

Senator XX responded, "A balance needs to be struck between security and the economy; the current implementation is too rigid."

The protesters chanted in unison: "Fair scrutiny! Equal opportunity!"

At this moment, in the Black Palace office, the blond fat man who had just finished breakfast was still dozing off in his chair, with a half-empty bottle of cola on the table.

"Knock knock." There was a rapid knock on the office door. The fat man quickly sat up straight, put his hands together, and adopted a serious posture.

Several assistants in suits filed in, carrying folders, and began their report:
"Leader, large-scale protests are breaking out across the country. If this is not addressed, the American economy may collapse."

"There are 2000 million Asian Americans. If this were to escalate, the consequences would be unimaginable."

"Asians own more than 39% of the shares in education services, health and social assistance, and 11.5% in the government sector. Not to mention the technology and finance industries. If this continues, a financial crisis will break out."

The staff members were very vocal in their remarks.

Before the fat man made his decision, some warned that it might be one of the dumbest decisions in American history.

"Heh, 2000 million? That's only about 5% of the total population. The fact that Asians own so much shares precisely illustrates the problem. Is America still a white-majority America? If I don't stop this, what will it become? A hundred years from now, will we be seeing yellow-skinned people dominating and ordering white people around? Do you want your descendants to wake up every day cursing their ancestors? I think this is the wisest decision I've ever made." The fat man took a sip of his cola, found it was flat, and pressed the button to have someone bring him another bottle.

"So how does the leader think this should end?" someone asked sarcastically.

"Let them make a scene, they're just a bunch of clowns. I'm the one sitting here now! Do I have to put up with their attitude?" The fat man flashed what he thought was a charming smile, making everyone present even more uneasy.

"Alright, now I'm handing you all an important task. Since these people want to protest, I'm going to show them that protesting is useless. Because I simply won't pay any attention to them!" The fat man laughed and snapped his fingers.

Two hours later, the Black House posted a video on its official social media.

As an official production, it should have been serious and solemn, but this video is full of wicked humor.

The video opens with a series of rapidly edited shots.

An F-16 fighter jet roared past, golden hair dancing wildly in the airflow, finally settling on the throne covered in red velvet.

The fat man slowly turned around the rotating throne. He was wearing a blue royal robe studded with rhinestones, and his crown was askew on his messy golden hair. Instead of a gemstone, the top of his scepter was a glowing Twitter icon.

“Listen, my dear people of Middle-earth… no, of America.”

He cleared his throat and gripped the scepter with his usual exaggerated gesture. "Some people say I am a leader, but they're wrong! I am your king!"

The camera zooms in, he squints, and mimics Saruman's tone from *The Lord of the Rings*: "When other races covet our treasures, when the hobbits of the Shire… I mean when those Asians with their money want to steal our technology…"

He suddenly stood up, revealing a tie printed with "MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN" beneath his royal robes.

“Look at these protesters! They’re like orcs from the Misty Mountains, but worse, they plagiarize!” He waved his scepter at the camera.

The background music suddenly switched to a rousing march, and the fat man raised his voice: "We've built the greatest city wall, now we're going to build the greatest investment wall! FIRRMA? That's the name I came up with, meaning Fantastic Investment Rules Make America Amazing!"

He made a drawing motion as if to shoot an arrow: "Just as Gondor would not allow the Rohan cavalry to take over the White City, we will never allow any foreign power to control our treasury!"

The final shot freezes on him sitting on his throne, enjoying a Coke, with a voiceover saying, "Remember, in the Kingdom of America, there is only one true king! Everyone else should obey the rules!"

A line of small text flashed in the lower right corner of the video: "This story is purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is purely coincidental; it is simply due to magic." (End of Chapter)