The morning sun rose slowly over the distant ridgeline, casting long, golden shadows across the vast farmlands of Qinghe Village. The air was fresh, tinged with the earthy scent of dew-kissed grass and ripened rice stalks. The mountains surrounding the village stood in solemn silence, their slopes green and heavy with the weight of summer. Birds chirped lazily, the rhythm of life here slow, patient, and undisturbed.
A black Range Rover moved steadily along the narrow concrete road, its tires crunching the gravel at the sides. Although the vehicle was a luxury model, it had no flashy markings, no roaring engine, and the man inside drove with the windows slightly open, letting the wind brush past his face.
The driver, Lin Yuan, looked barely older than twenty. Dressed in a light blue linen shirt, khaki trousers, and white sneakers slightly stained by mud, he looked every bit like a young man who had just returned from the city—except for the calm in his eyes that didn't belong to someone fresh out of university.
The village gate appeared ahead, a timeworn wooden arch with red characters painted across it: "Welcome to Qinghe Village." He slowed the vehicle to a gentle stop, then got out, stretching his limbs under the soft sunlight.
A low, content growl came from the backseat. A massive golden-yellow Tibetan Mastiff, easily the size of a calf, leapt out with a graceful thud. The villagers called him Da Huang. Lin Yuan simply patted the dog's head.
"We're home," he said quietly.
Da Huang gave a huff and trotted off toward the fields, tail swaying like a lion's.
---
The Lin family had deep roots in Qinghe Village. Lin Yuan's grandfather, Lin Zhaonan, was once the village chief and an old revolutionary-era educator. After the Cultural Revolution, he'd retired quietly to the countryside and rebuilt their ancestral home—an expansive courtyard house surrounded by bamboo groves and stone walls, just slightly removed from the rest of the village.
Lin Yuan hadn't been here in years. His parents had passed away in an accident when he was still in middle school. After that, he'd lived in a city boarding school, funded by a mysterious trust his grandfather had set up before passing away. No one really knew who managed the estate after Lin Zhaonan's death.
Even Lin Yuan himself wasn't quite sure—until he graduated last month and received an old envelope.
Inside: a key, a land deed, and a black metal card with a lotus emblem embossed on it.
There were no instructions, only a single sentence in his grandfather's handwriting:
> "When you're ready to live without noise, come home."
And so he did.
---
He opened the courtyard gate with a click.
Nothing had changed.
The house was clean—someone had clearly been maintaining it—but untouched in design. The outer wall was coated in weathered grey stucco. The rooftop was dark green ceramic tile, and hanging under the eaves were dozens of wind chimes made of bamboo and glass, swaying gently with the breeze.
Lin Yuan stepped inside and took a long, deep breath.
It was like time itself had slowed.
Da Huang had already taken his usual position under the old camphor tree in the front yard. With his tongue hanging out, the dog looked positively regal.
Lin Yuan chuckled softly and began unpacking. He didn't bring much. A few changes of clothes. A simple laptop. Some books—Zhuangzi, Wenxin Diaolong, and a copy of The Art of Quiet Influence. All modern conveniences were already set up. Wi-Fi was surprisingly fast, and solar panels had been discreetly installed on the side rooftops.
But the most important thing wasn't physical.
It was what lived inside the black metal card in his wallet.
---
That evening, Lin Yuan sat under the veranda, sipping a cup of hot green tea made from leaves grown right outside the courtyard. He watched the last light of day fall behind the hills.
He took out the black metal card and placed it on the wooden table.
"Activate."
A gentle pulse of golden light spread from the card's surface. Then—without sound, without spectacle—a holographic interface appeared in the air before him. It was minimalistic, like a piece of future tech disguised by rustic charm.
> Lin Yuan - Primary Holder
Available Summons: Unlimited (Tiered Access)
Fields of Summoning:
Economic Strategy
Political Influence
Legal Protection
Security & Surveillance
Agriculture Innovation
Infrastructure Development
Discretionary Lifestyle Services
Lin Yuan's gaze was calm. This was no longer a surprise.
He had discovered the truth two weeks ago, after a trial activation.
His family wasn't just ordinary. For generations, the Lin bloodline had quietly operated a hidden network—something like a personal think tank, combined with loyal private services. Not a single name was public. Every expert summoned would operate behind the scenes, never exposing his name, never leaking their work.
Essentially, he had access to the quiet power behind the world's visible structure.
But Lin Yuan didn't want to build an empire. He didn't want to fight in business wars or manipulate politicians.
He simply wanted peace—and to live well.
So he tapped the panel and selected: Agriculture Innovation > Eco-Farm Planning Consultant.
---
Within two hours, a man in his early forties arrived in the village under the cover of night. He came in a modest electric van that bore the label "Qinghe Agricultural Services". He carried no obvious tools, only a leather case filled with blueprints and documents.
"Consultant Zhao at your service," the man greeted with a professional bow.
Lin Yuan simply pointed toward the back field and said, "Let's make this place bloom."
---
The next morning, a middle-aged farmer named Uncle He, who often passed by Lin Yuan's property to head to his rice paddies, stood frozen at the sight of new rows of hydroponic trays being installed by two silent workers in uniform.
"What the hell… Isn't that where the old banana trees used to grow?" he muttered, scratching his head.
Lin Yuan was squatting nearby, planting some heritage tomatoes.
"Morning, Uncle He," he greeted with a smile.
"Young Lin, what are you doing? Hiring big-city engineers now?"
Lin Yuan laughed softly, brushing dirt off his hands. "Just some help from old friends. I'm trying a new farming method. Very natural. Less chemical, more yield."
Uncle He blinked. "High-tech farming? Here?"
"Quietly," Lin Yuan said, then added, "Want to try the tomatoes when they grow?"
The older man grinned. "Only if you give me two jin for free!"
---
As days passed, more silent transformations began.
A discreet cold-chain storage unit was built underground, hidden under a greenhouse.
Solar-powered irrigation drones were installed to water the fields with precise mineral balance.
Beehives were integrated naturally into flower beds to boost pollination.
Everything was done with the utmost care to not disturb the natural balance, and more importantly, to never draw attention.
To the villagers, Lin Yuan remained just a kind, polite young man with a fancy dog and a knack for farming. They had no idea that his network could sway local economies or influence regional policy with a single phone call.
---
One week later, Lin Yuan drove into the city.
He had to register his household information again due to recent policy changes. He parked his SUV in a shaded alley near the Municipal Services Center and walked in wearing a simple white tee and canvas bag.
Inside the building, cold white lighting and bureaucratic murmur filled the air.
Behind one of the counters sat a woman in a neatly pressed pale blue blouse. Her hair was tied in a low bun, her features mature and elegant. She was focused on typing a case summary into her computer.
Xu Qingyu, Deputy Supervisor, Urban Integration Division.
Lin Yuan stepped forward to her window, quietly placing his file.
She looked up.
For a moment, she paused.
The young man standing before her didn't look like the usual countryside applicant. His posture was relaxed, eyes intelligent, and yet his documents stated his address as "Qinghe Village, North Valley Plot, Ancestral Courtyard."
She adjusted her glasses.
"You're from Qinghe?"
He nodded. "Just moved back recently."
Her tone was professional. "Are you registering permanent residence or rural agricultural?"
"Both, eventually," he replied, "I'm rebuilding the old estate."
Her gaze lingered for half a second longer than usual.
"Lin Yuan?"
He raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Yes?"
"I went to Qinghe once during college. Your grandfather gave a lecture at the local school. I remember the name Lin Zhaonan."
Lin Yuan smiled. "That was him."
Their eyes met—not long enough to be awkward, but enough to plant a quiet seed of curiosity.
Xu Qingyu stamped the file and handed it back.
"Welcome back to the countryside," she said. "It's a good place to live."
"Peaceful," Lin Yuan said simply. "Exactly what I need."
---
That night, Lin Yuan sat again on his wooden porch, watching fireflies drift lazily above the grass.
He stroked Da Huang's head and murmured, "I met someone interesting today."
The dog gave a low, approving grunt.
Above them, stars spilled across the sky, and in the distance, the hum of nature mixed with the soft rush of water from the irrigation canal.
No noise. No ambition. No storm.
Just the quiet rise of a man who sought nothing—but would eventually have everything.