Chapter One: A Life Restarted

April 1, 1979

This is a day worth remembering.

Well, at least it is for William White.

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it—did the Lord Himself celebrate April Fool’s Day? Otherwise, why choose this day?

William White was the classic reckless rich kid, who, after losing his parents in a plane crash, inherited a sizable fortune.

Regrettably, his past self had been prodigiously self-destructive. Not only did he squander everything his family owned, but he also left himself broken in body and spirit.

Fortunately, the money was gone, and his life had run its course. Even more fortunate, he was given a second chance at life.

All at once, his mind raced uncontrollably, a torrent of information flooding in.

What’s happening to me?

Why are there so many fragments of memory?

Wait—who is this David Lester? Isn’t he just the failed author sitting in the next seat?

Right, the plane.

Dear God, was it not turbulence this time?

This was all so inexplicable—had he fallen into a wormhole or some sort of spatial storm?

Judging from the contents now flooding his mind, those poor souls were surely doomed.

Another plane crash? The aircraft in this world really were absurdly unreliable.

Thinking of the crash brought his parents to mind.

Though he was a bit of a fool, William had always been close to his parents. His mother, in particular, had doted on him endlessly.

Yes, his mother was of Chinese descent.

Typically, Chinese mothers tended to spoil their children—that was something etched into the soul, regardless of nationality.

“Mom, don’t worry. I’ll live well. I’ll make you proud,” William murmured in his heart, tears streaming down his face before he realized it.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

“Young master, you haven’t eaten all day.”

“I know, Uncle Fu. I’ll shower and be right out.”

“Very well, young master.”

Uncle Fu was his old butler, respected not only by William but by his mother as well. The old man had come to America with William’s grandfather. On the surface, he was a butler, but in truth, he was family—a sworn brother to William’s grandfather.

Uncle Fu sighed quietly. It had been nearly half a year since the young miss had passed, yet the young master still hadn’t recovered. Things couldn’t go on this way. With no one left to oversee the household, what would become of them?

William felt strange; he seemed stronger, his mind clearer. Was this the benefit of being reborn?

And little William seemed sturdier too, though that wasn’t of much use right now. It had been ages since he’d gone out carousing.

After changing into casual clothes, William left his bedroom, his hunger now acute. He wondered what dinner would be tonight.

“Uncle Fu, what’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

“Young master, the steak is excellent tonight—very fresh. The truffle soup as well.”

“Sounds good, Uncle Fu. Bring me a glass of red wine. I’m almost nineteen; you can’t keep watching over me forever.”

“As you wish, young master, but just one glass.”

“All right, all right.”

Seeing the young master in good spirits, Uncle Fu refrained from lecturing him. He hoped the young master would recover soon; the household couldn’t go on like this.

Nevertheless, William White was still frustrated. If only he’d returned a year earlier, his parents might have avoided their fate. Their vacation plans could have changed. He never did understand what was so appealing about the pyramids.

Sigh…

His father had left behind a solid foundation. Not a top-tier tycoon, but decidedly a billionaire.

In this era, being a billionaire was akin to having tens of billions by 2019 standards.

Even being a millionaire was impressive now; billionaires stood at the pyramid’s peak.

Though his father had planned ahead, this disaster had come too suddenly. There was no avoiding the plundering by the tax authorities.

Inheritance tax in America was ruthless—half your fortune could be confiscated. Despite every effort at tax avoidance, the family’s enterprises had suffered a heavy blow.

The main assets were the farm and the oil field. Once the taxes were paid, they’d be lost—either the farm or the oil field would have to go.

“Uncle Fu, how are things with the family businesses?”

“Young master…”

Seeing Uncle Fu hesitate, William could only smile wryly.

“Go on, Uncle Fu. I must shoulder this responsibility. Speak freely.”

“Yes, young master. White Oil has been under sustained pressure lately. The share price is in a slump—someone seems to be targeting us.”

“How much are we short in cash?”

“About thirty million dollars.”

“I see. Uncle Fu, apply for an extension on the estate tax. Let’s see if anything changes in the near future.”

“Very well, young master. I’ll inform the accountants at once.”

Inheritance tax is truly a predatory levy—useless against real tycoons, who have endless ways to evade it.

But for someone in William White’s position, it was a dire problem. A single misstep and the family’s assets would be lost.

Against the backdrop of the oil crisis, his father had made a spectacular comeback, but in doing so had angered many oil magnates. That was the real reason for the current stock price turmoil.

William had no interest in the oil business, but that didn’t mean he’d let others take advantage of his family.

Clearly, raising cash quickly was the priority. He couldn’t let that pack of vultures profit at his expense.

He remembered vividly how, in his previous life, the family oil company had been sold off for a song—shares worth two hundred million dollars eventually sold for just over fifty million.

Yes, the Hunt family. In the end, the oil field became theirs.

The Hunts—weren’t they the ones who tried to corner the silver market and ended up in disaster?

Wait—silver?

Ha! Now he had an idea. Let’s see how those bastards like it.

Though this was a land ruled by capital, and profit justified any means, there weren’t many families quite as ruthless as the Hunts. Their relationship had once been cordial—such a betrayal was truly excessive.

As a billionaire’s heir, William now had only a few million in liquid funds. Impressive by any standard, but still stifling.

American law required estate taxes be paid in full within nine months, though one extension of six months could be granted. Until the taxes were settled, the assets weren’t truly his.

Night on the farm was silent. Gazing at the pitch-black sky, William felt utterly lost. The day had been interminable, as if it had lasted half a century.

He couldn’t stay on the farm any longer—Texas wasn’t the place for his ambitions. Farming and oil weren’t his passions. With oil prices still high, it was best to sell quickly.

Running oil operations in America was a losing game—dominated by a handful of oligarchs, leaving no room for outsiders, who’d be devoured in the end.

The White family had been old-money capitalists, but with few descendants, their line was already thin. Now, with only William left, things were bleaker than ever. Should anything happen to him, the White family’s name would vanish from history.

It seemed the family’s legacy rested with him. For the family’s future, he’d need to father several children. He couldn’t understand why his parents hadn’t had more kids. With siblings, managing the family business would be so much easier.