Reborn in 2012, building a new energy empire

In mid-May, the summer heat in southern Jiangsu was already intense.

The walls of the old dormitory building were scorching hot from the sun, and in room 501 on the fifth floor, the ceiling fan was spinning weakly.

The NBA star posters covering the wall were curled at the edges, and Kobe's image was somewhat faded by the sunlight. On the corner of the table was a half-empty bottle of iced tea, with condensation dripping down the bottle and quietly soaking the book "Principles of Economics" on the table.

Sunlight streamed through the dusty glass window, and Jiang Haoran suddenly opened his eyes.

The moment consciousness breaks free from chaos, a violent shock sweeps through the mind like a tsunami.

He raised his hand to press his temples, his fingertips touching sticky sweat. The smell that filled his nostrils wasn't gunpowder, but the aroma of the braised beef noodles that Fatty Li had just prepared.

In that instant, he was so confused that he couldn't tell if he was dreaming or in reality—memories flooded back like a burst dam.

September 28, 2032, top floor of Marina Bay Financial Centre, Singapore.

The cold, sharp sensation of the bullet piercing my chest is as clear as yesterday.

Before me were the unwavering eyes of the man in black, and his indifferent farewell:

"Mr. Jiang, Glencore and Goldman Sachs send their greetings."

……

Jiang Haoran sat up on the hard bed in his university dormitory, his hangover headache intertwined with the stinging pain of memories from twenty years later.

He instinctively raised his hand and pressed it tightly against his left chest, over his heart. Beneath his palm was the soft fabric of a cotton T-shirt and the steady, powerful beating of his young heart. There were no wounds, no bloodstains.

He looked around the familiar, cramped little house, and memories of the past flooded back like a tide.

University dormitory.

He actually came back.

He had somehow returned to his university days, to that unforgettable moment.

However, in this overwhelming torrent of memories, what first emerged and what struck him most was not the gunshot from the top floor of Singapore and the darkness of the fall, but another period of youthful shame that was so clear it made his soul tremble.

Not long ago, in this very time and space, in an attempt to win over his beloved "goddess," he squatted under the flickering streetlights outside a bar, and with trembling fingers, dialed the number to his father that he would regret for the rest of his life...

On the other end of the phone, the father remained silent for half a minute amidst the intermittent roar of the machine, before finally hoarsely agreeing to his request for 20,000 yuan in living expenses.

At that time, he was still a second-generation factory worker who was too well protected by his family and knew nothing about the hardships of the world. He was immersed in the illusion of campus life and so-called "love" but did not know that his family's factory was facing a crisis.

The father was overwhelmed with worry about next month's wages and overdue payments. Little did he know that the 20,000 yuan was almost all the profit his father had made from a month of back-to-back work in the workshop, borrowing from Peter to pay Paul.

He used the hard-earned money, soaked with his father's sweat and anxiety, to buy an exquisite Chanel gift box, only to receive a nonchalant, polite smile from the goddess as she accepted it downstairs at the dormitory: "You've gone to so much trouble."

In his past life, he became a new energy tycoon with assets worth tens of billions, but he could never fill the void in his heart.

He once held a fortune, enough to buy cutting-edge technology patents and invest in the future, but he couldn't buy back the time when his own foolishness and vanity led his entire family into a quagmire.

He didn't say anything more and quickly walked to the full-length mirror in the dormitory. The boy in the mirror was wearing a handsome T-shirt, his face was youthful, and his eyes did not yet show the vicissitudes of life.

This is him at 21 years old, with healthy parents, a chance to turn things around, and the memories of the next twenty years in the industry—from the iteration of new energy battery technology to the bull and bear cycles of the stock market, and then to the explosive growth of the photovoltaic industry.

"Hey Hao, wanna play some League of Legends? We're just missing you for our five-man team." His roommate, Fatty Li's, shout brought him back to reality.

Jiang Haoran took a deep breath, the youthful confusion and restlessness in his eyes completely replaced by the vicissitudes and determination of sixteen years.

"I'm not opening anymore," he said, grabbing his ID without hesitation. "I have something to do and need to go home first."

"Hey, where are you going? You have a big calculus class this afternoon!" Fatty Li shouted from behind.

"Help me ask for leave!" The voice came from the stairwell, and the figure had already disappeared around the corner.

His thoughts drifted to Zhenjiang, dozens of kilometers away—the Jianguo Hardware Factory was there, currently shrouded in the shadow of crisis.

And that "relative" named Jiang Tao is probably already weaving a trap in the shadows.

Upon arriving at the bus station, Jiang Haoran bought an intercity bus ticket for 18 yuan.

The car drove away from the city and sped towards Zhenjiang.

The view outside the window gradually transitioned from dense buildings to open farmland. The hustle and bustle of the city was left behind, but Jiang Haoran's thoughts became clearer and sharper.

He knew all too well the nature of the crisis his family's small factory was facing—it was nothing more than the most common tactic in the business world: setting a trap through acquaintances, slowly boiling the frog, and then running away with the money.

The real challenge was never the problem itself, but how to persuade the father, Jiang Jianguo.

My father was a typical small business owner from the previous generation in Jiangsu and Zhejiang. He started from a small factory, was hardworking and honest, and valued "integrity" and "family ties" more than anything else.

In his worldview, blood ties and hometown friendships are solid bonds.

Jiang Tao, the distant cousin who had returned from studying abroad, precisely targeted this weakness.

After Jiang Tao returned, he was diligent and hardworking, running around to "get orders" for the factory. With his seemingly honest appearance and hardworking attitude, he gradually eroded his father's trust. Now he is considered "family" and "capable helper" by his father.

In contrast, Jiang Haoran himself, in his father's eyes, was still a "child"—a student who had not yet experienced the harsh realities of society and whose pubic hair had not yet fallen off.

Now, his words carry no weight in front of his father.

Even more dangerous is the hidden viper—Ma Yueting, who is working with Jiang Tao from the inside. She has only been back from Suzhou and Hangzhou for six months and is carrying out her conspiracy step by step.

Jiang Tao became infatuated with the gentle trap deliberately created by Ma Yueting, and then fell into huge losses due to embezzlement. With nowhere else to turn, they set their sights on their father's eagerness to expand the business.

First, they built up their reputation with a series of small orders with meager profits but timely payments. Then, they threw out the fatal "super order" that required the factory to "advance its production capital," inducing the father to apply for a huge loan using the factory and equipment as collateral, which ultimately led to the factory's bankruptcy.

My father worked himself to death to pay off debts, and my mother also passed away due to depression.

He himself went from a carefree rich kid to a poor student living under someone else's roof, struggling at the bottom of society for ten years before finally seizing the opportunity in the new energy sector through several investments. But by the time he achieved success, his loved ones had already passed away.

"Dad, this time, everything is different." Jiang Haoran looked out the window at the rapidly receding telephone poles, as if reviewing the reversal of time, and made a vow in his heart, word by word.

Just then, his phone rang. He took a deep breath and pressed the answer button.

Her father's tired but gentle voice came through the phone immediately: "Xiao Ran, is get out of class over by now? Have you eaten yet?"

"Dad, I'm on my way back to Zhenjiang," Jiang Haoran said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Nothing special, it's just... I missed you and Mom a bit, so I came back to see you."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by Jiang Jianguo's relieved laughter: "Good, good, good to be back! When do you arrive? Dad will pick you up!"

He took out his phone and caught a glimpse of a familiar app, Tonghuashun, which had only been launched in 2012.

This is an account opened by his uncle Chen Jingge using his ID card, who said it could help him manage and increase the value of his money. There are also over 100,000 yuan of his New Year's money in it.

His eyes lit up as he looked at the familiar candlestick chart on the screen.

New energy stocks were still in a slump in 2012.

BYD's stock price has just fallen below 15 yuan.

Meanwhile, Keelung Co., Ltd., which is about to surge due to the photovoltaic subsidy policy, is only NT$15 at the moment, which is ten times lower than I remember.

He will take it one step at a time, first saving his father's factory, then earning his first pot of gold, and finally entering the new energy sector, which he is most familiar with.

Solid-state batteries, photovoltaic silicon wafers, lithium resources...

These fields, which will give rise to giants with market capitalizations of hundreds of billions in the future, are still blue oceans at present, waiting for Jiang Haoran to conquer them.