Courtyard House: My Time Travel is a Bit Too Strong

Without much hesitation, he went directly to the used car market and picked up a nearly new van.

The old van was sold that same day, and the new van was driven out of the city. He opened the van door and slipped inside.

After circling the system space, hundreds of live chickens were herded into the carriage, their feathers ruffled, their calls rising and falling.

Back at the chicken farm, I lifted the truck bed, and the chickens poured out, scattering into the grass in a flurry.

"Once the villa is finished, I'll move in. I can release as many as I want at night."

"Wang Renyi and Wang Renliang both have driver's licenses, so let them use this car for transportation first."

"Make it bigger, and faster... It wouldn't be surprising if we sold thousands a day someday."

He then summoned the two men and explained the hatching process.

If we expand the farm to 3,000 acres and add a few hundred more chickens, who would notice?

After arranging things for the employees, Lin Quan went to the car dealership.

"Four-wheeled cars are durable, that's the one. BMW and Benelli have great reputations, but we're not after those."

One million three hundred thousand, for a four-wheeled, seven-seater SUV.

"Seven seats, a trunk big enough to fit a whole sheep, and the engine revs up instantly when you step on it. That's it."

"I spent 1.03 million on the car, and now I have 19.28 million left in my account."

"The budget for the villa is 1.5 million, the office area plus kitchen and bathroom is 800,000, and there will still be 17 million left in my pocket."

After filling up the gas tank, he drove his new car around the town twice.

"House under construction, car just picked up, all I need is a girlfriend."

"The post on QQ was published, and Teacher Zhao liked it..."

The thought flashed through his mind, and he stepped on the gas, turning around to go back to his rented room.

Jiang Yong was squatting at the entrance of the building peeling oranges when he saw him get out of the car. He stood up and greeted him: "Ah Quan, you've struck it rich?"

"Sold two songs, made a little money." Lin Quan replied casually.

"You can write songs?" Jiang Yong was taken aback.

"I haven't made a name for myself in acting, so I just wrote a few lines of lyrics. A while ago, I found a music teacher to help me with the arrangement," Lin Quan said with a smile.

"Wow, that's impressive, a song can earn millions?" Jiang Yong raised his voice slightly.

"I've been writing for over ten years, and I've only sold five songs in total, earning a little over three million. I've invested in a chicken farm, bought a car, and now I only have 68,000 left in my account."

"For locals like you, which family doesn't start with millions? Open a real estate agency, and you can easily make tens of thousands a month," Lin Quan said simply.

"Where would you find so many?" Jiang Yong said, trying to deny it, but the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl upwards.

His five-story house has eight rooms on each floor. He lives on one floor and rents out the other thirty-two rooms for 500 yuan a month, which is 16,000 yuan a month. After deducting water, electricity, gas and some service fees, he nets more than 16,000 yuan a month.

When business is booming, the real estate agency in town can bring more than a dozen people to the factory a day, charging each person a commission of 400 yuan; in the off-season, they can earn tens of thousands of yuan a month, and in the peak season, they can earn at least 100,000 yuan.

He has a friend who is the town's director and is very familiar with the owners of dozens of factories.

Worker turnover is high; many leave after ten days or so, few last three months, and only one in ten can stay for six months. Of course, once you're in a factory with good pay, you're reluctant to leave.

After chatting for a few minutes, Lin Quan waved and went inside, locked the door, picked up a kitchen knife, and pushed open the iron gate of the chicken coop.

Lin Quan slashed down hundreds of skill chickens, and a ball of light rose from the ground.

"Equipment operation... is divided into five levels: beginner, intermediate, advanced, advanced, and final."

"It's much more challenging and practical than just learning to drive."

He steadied his breathing and stepped into the chicken coop.

One thousand chickens fall, and your skill level increases to beginner.

"I can handle any device in the world that has mechanical parts, logic, and responsiveness."

"Cars are, airplanes are, and CNC machine tools are too."

"This skill needs to be maximized."

His movements were so fast that they were just afterimages; as the blade flashed, the chickens fell to the ground in droves.

Move to an open space, scatter some broken rice, and the chickens will immediately gather around.

He charged in with his sword drawn, the blade flashing, and his experience points jumped up in rapid succession.

"I've reached the intermediate level, and my hand is much smoother now."

"This is advanced. Even someone who has been in this business for ten years might not have this level of skill."

"Top-notch... When you actually drive it, the accelerator, brake, and steering wheel are all controlled by the rhythm that your bones grow into."

"The ultimate solution... Machines are not tools, but extensions of limbs."

He glanced at the time on his phone, then sheathed his knife and left.

I took a cold shower, washed my clothes clean, and hung them to dry on the wire at the gate of the yard.

"It's one o'clock, let's go out and get something hot."

He didn't drive; instead, he walked out of Hengpu Film City and headed straight for the night market.

The rich go to bars, the poor hang out at street stalls—this rule has never changed.

He sat down at a barbecue stall and ordered beef skewers, lamb skewers, dried tofu, chives, and two bottles of beer.

One person, putting dish after dish into their mouth, slurping down the wine one sip at a time.

"Hey, Kobayashi?" A man in his early thirties strolled over, followed by five people.

Li Biao put his arm around Wu Qiang's shoulder, and before he finished speaking, his meaning was clear: "Brother Qiang is a little short on cash lately, can you lend me some?"

All six were wearing old costumes with frayed cuffs, clearly familiar faces who had been playing minor roles for years.

When people gather in groups, there will be differences in status; and with differences in status, it is inevitable that people will reach out to test each other's abilities.

Lin Quan didn't look up, only staring at Wu Qiang's outstretched hand: "Put the things down."

That skewer of mutton hadn't even touched the toothpick yet.

"You've gotten tougher after not seeing me for over a month?" Li Biao scoffed.

Lin Quan raised his hand and gripped Wu Qiang's right wrist, his knuckles slowly tightening.

"Should we let them go or not?"

Wu Qiang's entire arm went numb, and his left hand slipped, causing the lamb skewers to fall onto the table.

"Go!" Li Biao roared.

Six people moved at the same time, throwing punches and kicks simultaneously.

Lin Quan dodged two straight punches by sidestepping, then unleashed a flurry of blows, delivering a crisp slap to each of their faces.

"You dare hit us?!" Li Biao's eyes widened.

Lin Quan countered with another round, six hits in total, not a single one off target.

"This time, both sides are symmetrical."

He paused, then said, "Get out."

Wu Qiang and his group didn't say anything more and turned to leave.

Six people, without even wiping the hem of his clothes, first took two rounds of beatings on his face, and if he continued, he would only lose face.

As soon as the crowd dispersed, a middle-aged man in a gray jacket approached, smiling and extending his hand: "Hello, Zhang Guohua."

"Director Zhang, I've heard so much about you." Lin Quan stood up and offered him his seat.

"Still don't know how to address me?" Zhang Guohua asked after taking his seat.

"Lin Quan, Lin Quan of everyone. I used to be an extra in Hengpu for more than two years."

"Have you practiced those moves?"

"I've practiced a little."

"I have an action movie project in the works, and we're short of someone for the second male lead. I'd like you to give it a try."

Lin Quan did not respond immediately.

He wanted to act from a young age, not to become famous, but to have a stable job. Even after he got a job, he never gave up on the idea.

Extras or guest stars? He wouldn't accept those.

The second male lead... has a significant role with realistic action scenes; his character is named Chung Sai-kit, nicknamed "Iron Fist".

This name sounds exciting.

"The male lead is Liu Yihua," Zhang Guohua added.

Lin Quan remained silent for three minutes, then nodded: "Okay."

Zhang Guohua handed over a page of the script, pointing to a passage: "Come on, let's go through it once."

Lin Quan did not refuse. He stood up, twisted his waist, threw a punch, and finished the movement in one smooth motion.

The movements are not flashy, but the muscles and bones are stretched accurately, and the landings are resounding.

Zhang Guohua's eyes lit up.