Chapter 3

Madison Square Garden is located atop one of America’s largest train stations, Pennsylvania Station.

It is a massive white cylindrical building housing numerous sports facilities and venues for ball games, and of course, as a plaza, it regularly hosts concerts.

Jessica wore a white dress, one hand gripping Ye Nan’s thick arm, the other pointing everywhere, exclaiming in awe at the surrounding buildings.

Today was the date of global pop queen Madonna’s concert; Jessica had decisively skipped class to attend, and Ye Nan, worried about his sister, naturally followed along.

“Look, that’s the famous Madison Square, let’s go there,” Jessica said, pointing to the stadium nearby.

Above the stadium hung a giant banner: Madonna, clad in a bikini, holding a microphone, while countless people below cheered wildly.

“That woman again, Jessica, can’t you like someone normal, like Michael Jackson?” Ye Nan grumbled.

“Mind your own business,” Jessica pouted, turning her head away.

“Then why did you drag me here?” Ye Nan turned to leave.

He knew Jessica would stop him—after all, even heroes are brought low by a single dollar, and in this money-obsessed country, dollars were God.

Seeing Ye Nan about to walk away, Jessica grabbed him instantly. “Don’t go, dear Brother Ye Nan, how could you abandon your little sister all alone in Madison Square?”

Jessica put on a pitiful expression, silently cursing Ye Nan: Damn miser, Grandet! How did my young, lovely, invincible Jessica end up with such a heartless brother?

“Fine, Jessica, I’ll pay for anything you want to buy, but you absolutely cannot attend this concert,” Ye Nan said, pointing at Madonna’s banner.

“Why do you have such a bias against Madonna?”

“It’s not bias—I won’t let you go. You’re too young. Wait until you’re older to like her. I promise I won’t interfere,” Ye Nan said solemnly.

Just like Japanese AVs, Ye Nan held no prejudice—but minors under eighteen should keep their distance.

“Ugh, wait that long? So boring,” Jessica plopped down, glaring at Ye Nan with exaggerated gestures. “You’re just like Dad—both ancient relics.”

“Ancient relics are better than you sinking into depravity. If I don’t watch you, you’ll turn into a bad girl who drinks, speeds, and gets taken at parties—Andy Dad will die of anger. It’s already five in the afternoon,” Ye Nan said, glancing at his wristwatch. “If we don’t go back now, Andy Dad will worry.”

“No, I’m not going back. I’m watching Madonna’s concert,” Jessica sat still in protest.

Ye Nan looked at the mischievous Jessica, pulled out his phone, and dialed. “Andy Dad, I’m with Jessica watching Madonna’s concert. We might be late—don’t worry.”

After speaking with Andy Dad, Ye Nan turned to Jessica. “Well, my sister, are you satisfied now?”

“I’d be more satisfied if you bought me a phone. Oh, God, this is the Motorola StarTAC—the brand-new phone from TV! So tiny!” Jessica exclaimed, staring at Ye Nan’s phone.

Motorola launched the concept phone StarTAC this year (actually released in 1996; date altered for plot purposes—don’t rage at anachronisms, all dates are adjusted). This phone, marketed for its compact size and light weight, became an instant sensation among Americans, sparking a craze—it cost thousands of dollars.

“Hmm, it is tiny,” Ye Nan muttered evasively. To him, the StarTAC was unsatisfying in both design and weight, but he had no choice—he’d grown used to phones and could only settle for this world’s first mobile phone.

Jessica stared enviously at her brother, desperate to snatch the phone from his hand. “Brother, can I play with it?”

“Here,” Ye Nan handed it over.

Jessica seized the StarTAC and gasped: “So light—no wonder it’s from Motorola!” Then she grinned and begged, “Brother, buy me one too.”

“No. You’re too young to have a phone,” Ye Nan refused instantly. In the past six months, he’d saved only ten thousand dollars; this phone alone cost three thousand. Another one would cripple him financially—even if it didn’t bankrupt him.

For an ordinary person, it wouldn’t matter—money is meant to be spent, and saving it in American banks still meant paying taxes. But he was different: as a refined young man from the twenty-first century, he couldn’t let his time travel go to waste without making a big splash in America.

If you asked Americans what brought the most money, they’d say oil and arms. But what was easiest to make money from? They’d say: high technology.

High tech came in many forms, but Ye Nan set his sights on the internet. Didn’t future giants like Tencent and Baidu make fortunes online?

Other games or search engines were too hard, but something like QQ—a messaging app—required little technical skill. Just find someone who knew programming, and you could build it. Since ICQ wouldn’t appear until 1996, he had no qualms about becoming the father of global instant messaging.

That was precisely why Ye Nan refused to buy Jessica a phone.

“Fine, don’t give me one—I don’t care,” Jessica turned away, clutching the phone tightly, showing no intention of returning it.

Seeing this, Ye Nan knew: unless he paid up, this little demon would never give the phone back.

“Hey, little sister Jessica, how about I buy you a phone for your birthday next year?”

“Yes!” Jessica jumped up happily. “Remember—it’s a phone, not a brick!”

“Don’t worry—it’ll be a phone, not a brick,” Ye Nan said. “But shouldn’t you return it to me, my dear sister Jessica?”

Jessica played with the phone, reluctant, then handed it back. “Here, take it. But you promised me a phone—don’t break your word.”

“Of course. But you must promise me: once you get the phone, no parties, no hanging out with your bad friends, no going to...”

Before Ye Nan finished, Jessica cut him off. “Are you annoying? Are you my brother or my dad? You control everything. Let’s go watch Madonna’s concert first. You can lecture me later—after you buy me the phone.”