SCRAPE, SCRAPE. The chalk made a harsh sound against the blackboard. On the dais, the language arts teacher spoke in a thick Yu accent, reminding the class again and again that this poem was likely to be on the exam this year. But if you flipped through the three years’ worth of high school language arts textbooks, you’d find similar "key points" everywhere.

Chen Yao listened attentively, using her fountain pen to mark *Invitation to Wine* as important. Only occasionally did she glance at her deskmate out of the corner of her eye.

Jiang Xia’s back was ramrod straight. He held a pen in his right hand and kept his head down, looking for all the world like an attentive student. In reality, his left thumb never stopped tapping away on his phone’s keypad.

Aside from a passing thought about how the internet ruins people, Chen Yao had no other opinions. ’You choose your own path,’ she thought. ’If you don’t work hard now, you’ll only regret it later.’

He selectively tuned out the teacher’s voice. He would occasionally mumble along with the class, though he probably had no idea what they were even saying. His attention was completely captivated by what he’d found on his phone.

It was 2009, and 3G had just taken off, ushering the domestic internet into a Wild West era of growth. The feature phones of this time were nowhere near as convenient as the smartphones of later years, and the webpages displayed on their tiny screens were still crude, but it was more than enough for him to surf the web.

*Full-time Warrior* is an action role-playing (ARPG) fighting game developed by Neopie of South Korea and operated in Mainland China by Tenglong Games.

Reading the webpage description, Jiang Xia fell into deep thought. His "rebirth" wasn’t exactly what it sounded like; the world-line itself had been altered.

He’d never heard of Tenglong Games, but just like *Full-time Warrior*, one look was enough to tell it was a knockoff of Tencent.

He clicked on more related links, and his suspicions were gradually confirmed.

’It wasn’t that my memory is failing me. I’ve been reborn into a parallel Earth, one that’s nearly identical to my past life. That’s why so many familiar names and events have minor differences. Thankfully, the differences aren’t too drastic, and the world’s overall trajectory hasn’t gone off course.’

But this conclusion alone wasn’t enough. If he wanted to stay one step ahead in his new life, he had to figure out what was the same as his past life and what hadn’t happened yet.

’Getting too hung up on history is pointless. All that matters is the here and now.’

After some searching, he found that many things from his previous life already existed in this world. While their names might have subtle changes, their essence remained the same.

True, his mind was filled with the knowledge of over a decade of future developments, but he had neither the technical skills nor the capital. And who couldn’t spout off a few wild, pie-in-the-sky ideas?

Even if he found an angel investor and went on and on about the future prospects of various industries, they would just think this high school kid’s ideas were naive.

Most importantly, Jiang Xia was no businessman. From head to toe, inside and out, he was an artist—or so he believed.

Thinking of the arts, he anxiously typed a few animation-related keywords into QianDu. After a long wait of several dozen seconds, the laggy webpage finally loaded.

He didn’t know if it was because the world-line had changed or if the influence of a certain East Sea Island Country was virtually nil in this world. In any case, the various art styles of this era leaned more towards realism. He couldn’t find a single one of the famous 2D waifus from his previous life, and there wasn’t a trace of news about some of the most classic IPs!

’Could it be that people’s tastes in this era are just... like this?’

’No, absolutely not.’ Jiang Xia was more willing to believe that the abnormal development of the art world had led people’s aesthetic sense astray.

’In other words, this world’s animation industry is still an undeveloped blue ocean?’

Now *that’s* what you call a fucking perfect professional match!

A transmigrator riding the wave of a new trend, an animation producer whose mind was filled with countless market-tested works, who could recreate them one by one if given enough time.

At this thought, Jiang Xia couldn’t help but feel a fire ignite within him.

Seeming to notice her deskmate’s breathing growing rapid and heavy, Chen Yao turned to look at him with confusion.

"What’s wrong with you?"

"My cat’s about to give birth."

"???"

Chen Yao’s expression darkened. She decided to ignore him. ’Is there something wrong with this guy? Your cat’s having kittens, so why are you so worked up? Are they your kids or something?’

Jiang Xia took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

In any case, whether or not he was going to remake the animations from his past life, this couldn’t be rushed.

The information he had now was still incomplete. He had to do more detailed research before planning his next move.

Senior year language arts classes always devolved into recitation sessions—reciting classical Chinese, reciting poetry, reciting the opening and closing paragraphs of full-mark essays. Amidst the drone of loud reading, the bell for the last class of the afternoon finally rang.

It was time to eat.

Wang Ming walked over with his meal bowl, holding out his hand. "Old Jiang, can I have my phone back? I saw you with your head down the whole time. Find anything good?"

Jiang Xia handed over the brick phone, its search history long since cleared. "The connection’s too slow. The pages barely loaded. But take my advice, you can’t go wrong with picking Red Eye."

"What’s a Red Eye?"

"Er, it’s that War Frenzy class you were talking about. It’s ridiculously strong."

"You sure? I thought the skills for your Sword Spirit class looked cooler."

"What’s the damn point of looking cool? Your damage is garbage, and you’ll struggle to even solo a full map. If it were you, which would you pick?"

"Hehehe, War Frenzy it is, then. We’ll be different classes, so we won’t have to fight over gear. You carry me for now, bro, and later, I’ll carry you."

Listening to Old Wang’s bold declaration, Jiang Xia rolled his eyes and pulled his bowl and chopsticks from his desk. "Let’s go. Food first, then we’ll hit the internet cafe tonight."

Following the stream of students out of the academic building, he casually handed over a few pieces of scratch paper he had doodled on during language arts class.

Wang Ming took them and glanced over them. "What’d you draw here?" he asked, puzzled. "A cat, a mouse... they’re kinda cute."

"You’ve never seen Cat and Mouse?"

"Cat and Mouse? Is that a new cartoon?" Wang Ming looked completely lost.

Jiang Xia stared into his eyes for a few seconds, then looked away. He already had his answer.

"It’s fine if you don’t know. What about the next one?"

The next drawing was of a mouse with a lightning-bolt-shaped tail, leaping off the page.

Wang Ming slowly shook his head. "This is a mouse too? It looks... a little weird, but it’s cute."

"That’s Pikachu, a yellow mouse that can discharge electricity," Jiang Xia said.

"Discharge electricity?"

Jiang Xia didn’t explain further. "What about SpongeBob, Slam Dunk, Conan, Ultraman?"

Seeing his childhood friend shake his head again, Jiang Xia wasn’t surprised at all. After all, he had just spent ages searching online and hadn’t found any of these names.

Asking now was merely for confirmation.

"Then what cartoons have you seen?"

Wang Ming thought for a moment. "White Cat Task Force, Ping-Pong Kid, Culinary Journey, Small-Headed Son and Big-Headed Mom, Ace Superman, Divine Dragon Swordsman."

"Huh???"

Jiang Xia blinked. He’d never heard of a single one of them. The only one that was even remotely related... was probably *Big-Headed Son and Small-Headed Dad*.

"You’ve never seen any of them? How pitiful."

Wang Ming gave him a pitying look.