Courtyard House: My Time Travel is a Bit Too Strong

Of the nine, seven passed the preliminary test. The remaining two couldn't reach an agreement, so Jiang Yong immediately made a phone call and arranged another job for them.

Once the referral fee is collected, there's no reason to return it.

After returning to town and handing over the person, Lin Quan took the sixty yuan and turned back to his rented room.

He lit a cigarette, leaned against the edge of the bed, and thought: If it weren't for that chicken-killing system, he would most likely be like those nine people just now, carrying a woven bag into the factory, clocking in, tightening screws, and counting down the days.

Being an extra is even tougher; you get eighty yuan a day, but if you don't work for three days, you'll run out of food.

Factory jobs are more stable, paying between two and four thousand, and wages are paid on time.

Everyone dreams of becoming an overnight sensation or achieving legendary status with a single song, but how many actually succeed? You can count them on your fingers.

He had heard a saying: "If you turn your mind in the right direction, your pockets will fill up sooner or later."

But he also knew that out of ten people, nine and a half would be overwhelmed by rent, food expenses, and social obligations before they even got started.

Without connections or influence, you can't get ahead by just enduring hardship.

Over the decades, only one person has truly risen from the ashes: Huang Guangmu, chairman of Xia Mei Group, the richest man in Xia Country, with a net worth of 10 billion Xia Yuan.

He didn't finish junior high school, his hometown is in a remote mountain village, and now his photo is printed on the cover of a financial magazine and has become the phone wallpaper for countless people.

Lin Quan wasn't blindly worshipping Huang Guangmu. Huang Guangmu may not have graduated, but his bookshelf was piled high with "Das Kapital" and "Principles of Economics," and he listened to the BBC and studied the original English versions in his spare time.

Schools can't teach much; whether you learn it or not, and how you learn it, is entirely up to you.

As for academic qualifications? If you really want to compete on that, just spend money to hire ghostwriters to write your thesis, buy overseas diplomas, and you can get a PhD certificate from overseas in just three days with gold foil stamping and frame.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his cigarette ash piling up into a small tower, the system notification sound echoing in his mind.

"Forget it, let's finish composing the music first. We need songs to make money, and we need money to move forward."

"You need to buy a notebook and a pen, copy the lyrics once, so you'll have a clear idea when composing the music."

"After writing it, I put it in my ring, and no one can find it."

As soon as the idea came to him, he got up, went out, turned into the small supermarket at the entrance of the village, and picked out five hardcover notebooks and three boxes of ballpoint pens.

I went back to my room, plugged in the USB drive, opened the document, and copied it line by line.

"The lyrics are all there, just the music is missing."

I casually opened the QQ group, and the person selling chickens was spamming the screen: "Two more free-range chickens left! DM me if you want some!"

After studying on his own for seven days, Lin Quan made an appointment with Zhao Yanxi.

She was a music teacher at Hengpu Elementary School. Lin Quan had asked around and found out that she taught in detail and didn't just give sloppy lessons.

Two hours per session, 300 yuan, no bargaining.

He readily paid for those three hundred songs.

Saturday morning at nine o'clock, town center park.

Zhao Yanxi, dressed in a white shirt and black skirt, walked at a leisurely pace, and could be seen standing under the sycamore tree from afar.

"Are you Lin Quan?"

"Um."

Her eyes were bright and clear, her posture was upright, and her voice, though not loud, was clear and distinct. Lin Quan felt a slight stirring in his heart, but simply nodded.

"Sit there," she said, pointing to the stone table next to her.

"it is good."

"Why do you suddenly want to learn music composition?" She pulled out a chair and took out a music theory book from her bag.

"I heard that songwriting is a quick way to make money. I've put together a few verses, but I don't know how to set them to a melody."

"Oh?" She looked up, but didn't ask any further questions.

Lin Quan caught a whiff of cedarwood in her hair, and his gaze swept over her hand resting on her lap… her fingers were slender, and her nails were neatly trimmed. He looked away and smiled: “If one day you write a poem that becomes a hit everywhere, you’ll be set for life.”

"It's almost nine o'clock." She opened her notebook. "Let's start by learning to read the sheet music."

"Thank you, Teacher Zhao."

The wind rustled through the trees, the pages of paper whispering. Two hours passed without a single wasted word or a single superfluous statement.

Lin Quan handed over six hundred yuan and said, "Teacher Zhao, it's getting late. I'd like to treat you to a meal."

"I have to go back now, sorry." Zhao Yanxi pushed up her glasses, her tone calm.

"Okay, see you tomorrow." Lin Quan didn't linger, then asked, "Shall I take you home?"

"Then I'll have to trouble you, Mr. Lin." She nodded.

He drove her to her apartment building in his SUV. Then he turned the car around and drove back to his rented room.

I made myself a bowl of noodles, ate a few mouthfuls haphazardly, and that was enough to fill my stomach.

He opened the notebook and scanned it line by line... He memorized it all. He smiled gently.

"The Fierce Tiger Body Tempering Technique is now maxed out; it's time to clear out a batch of attacking chickens."

He picked up the cleaver and went into the chicken coop.

Scatter rice, and the chickens gather; swing the knife, and the chickens vanish. One, two… no more hesitation.

Two hours later, a sphere shimmering with light appeared in his palm.

"The Flying Stone Technique, a type of concealed weapon, has five levels. The first level throws one stone, the second level throws three stones at the same time, the third level throws six stones at the same time, the fourth level throws nine stones at the same time, and the fifth level can deflect the stones."

Change venues, enter the experience chicken coop.

One slash, one kill; swift, accurate, and ruthless.

After deducting 1,000 experience points, the Flying Stone Technique has been upgraded to the first level.

"It's still early, kill another two thousand."

Scatter rice, lure chickens, swing arm, break neck.

"The second floor is complete."

"The third floor is also secure. It's not even 10 o'clock yet, let's continue."

"The fourth level is just finished, it's almost 2 a.m.... Time to wash up and go to sleep, I'll practice again tomorrow morning."

I logged out of the system space, took a shower, changed clothes, and went straight to sleep. I slept until eight in the morning.

After washing up, I went out, ate a bowl of wontons, and drove to the park.

Two hours later, as usual, he took Teacher Zhao home and then returned to his room.

"I've accumulated over thirty mortal-level experience points so far, but it takes sixteen thousand to advance to the fifth level."

He grabbed a handful of rice and scattered it out, and a flock of ordinary-level experience chickens immediately gathered around.

He took out nine coins, flicked his wrist, and nine silver lights flashed... Nine chickens fell to the ground, gaining +9 experience points.

"With my current hand strength and angle, stringing three coins together is no problem."

Move it to a different spot, then scatter the rice.

He lay on the ground, turned to the side to aim, and fired nine coins in quick succession... causing more than eighty chickens to collapse to the ground.

Another handful of coins were tossed out, and more than thirty corpses turned into white light.

"A knife is still more efficient. I can strike much faster than they can run away."

He stepped forward with his sword, and as the blade swept across, swathes of people fell.

After a few hours, his mortal-level experience points rose to over 16,300.

With a thought, the value was reset to zero, and the Flying Stone Technique leaped to the fifth level... The stone immediately turned, circling the pillar and turning along the wall.

The next day at nine o'clock sharp, I waited for Teacher Zhao by the park bench.

Primary school classes are relatively relaxed, and she usually only attends two classes a day.

I ate a roast meat rice outside for lunch, then went back to my room, carried a small half-bag of rice, and crawled into the superpowered chicken coop.

By evening, all the thousands of mutant chickens had been wiped out, and nothing had been dropped.

He didn't say anything, went out to eat a bowl of beef noodles, and came back to continue working.

"It's done."

A ball of light rose up, and he reached out and grasped it, the light scattering into his eyes.

"X-ray vision ability, starting at level nine. Right now, it can only see through paper, and at most, it can check scratch-off lottery tickets."

He turned and plunged into the chicken coop, wielding his knife and bringing down the chickens.

"You've reached level three. Let's continue tomorrow."

At 9 a.m. on the third day, the park remained the same.

He quietly tested his new ability, his vision penetrating the tree bark to see the wormholes inside, and the blood flowing slightly faster.

"I'll try my luck at the antique street when I have some free time."

Suppressing the thought, when the time came, he settled the tuition for the week and escorted her to the building entrance.