I was a prince in the Middle East

Chapter 1: Transmigrating into a Saudi Prince – Starting with Effortless Success

The midday sun was so intense it could melt the air; the heatwave distorted vision, and the gold-plated rooftops dazzled the eyes under the sun.

Walid bin Khalid was lounging in a recliner made of rhinoceros hide.

The Patek Philippe Starry Night watch on my wrist exudes a cold, luxurious aura.

Three months ago, this watch was worth enough for him to live on for three lifetimes.

Now, it is nothing more than the simplest of the three trays that are carried on knees by three servants every morning.

Fine beads of sweat seeped from his forehead. He subconsciously wanted to raise his hand to wipe the sweat, but stopped when he saw the intricate gold thread embroidery on his cuffs.

This seemingly simple white robe required six embroiderers to spend three months making it.

In the distance, twelve gardeners in uniform are pruning the 300-acre 'Desert Emerald'.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized; the rhythm of the palm leaves being cut open and closed resembled some kind of peculiar ritual.

Further away, three falconers were training newly arrived gyrfalcons, their screech piercing the heat.

"This life... is too decadent..."

Huang Mao, the soul of the Chinese college student residing in the body of a Saudi prince, is now muttering to himself in Arabic.

Three months have passed, and he still can't get used to this luxurious emptiness.

In the early summer before his time travel, he had just received his admission notice from the Institute of Regional Economics at Peking University.

The seven characters "Regional and National Economics" on the admission letter, which he had repeatedly caressed, still gleamed with fresh ink.

This stems from his unique insights into the economies of Middle Eastern countries, insights that even impressed a professor known for his rigor, who made an exception and accepted him as a student.

This is a remarkable achievement for a student from a prestigious non-elite university that doesn't even qualify for postgraduate admission.

It's enough to make the female students show off their sparkling, almond-shaped eyes.

Just as he was full of ambition and preparing to embark on his academic career, he woke up one morning to find himself transformed into what he is today.

In 2026, he transmigrates into the body of a Saudi Arabian prince in 2013 who had been in a vegetative state for seven years after a car accident.

Royal branches, theoretically ranked outside the top 300 in the line of succession...

His father and uncle were later notorious figures in the Talal faction who were imprisoned and beaten in the Ritzkrieg Hotel prison by Salman the Younger…

Actually, it's not so bad.

Knowing the future well, he knew that as long as he didn't do anything reckless and just stayed indulging in a life of leisure, he would be fine.

Moreover, even after handing over assets worth hundreds of billions of dollars, the entire family still has hundreds of billions of dollars in wealth waiting for him to inherit.

"Your Highness, your fitness data."

The personal trainer handed him an iPad, on which a curve showed that he had reached 70 kilograms in bench press.

On Douyin, where the average person weighs 120 kilograms, this is considered trash.

But in reality, it's enough to make his muscle definition stand out.

For a person who has been in a vegetative state for seven years, this level of skill is astonishing, even to fitness instructors.

"Your Highness's recovery speed is truly blessed by God!"

The coach's biceps, strong enough to crack walnuts, twitched exaggeratedly with his fawning smile.
"Three months of training is equivalent to three years of training for an average person!"

Walid mechanically twitched the corner of his mouth and waved for the humanoid tank, which reeked of protein powder, to step back.

As soon as the gym door closed, he slumped into a chair and rolled his eyes at the gilded ceiling.

"Damn it! Why do fitness instructors have to be these burly guys who can kill a bull with one punch?"

He mentally ranted, "What happened to the promised Arab harem?"

We can't even have a pretty personal trainer wearing yoga pants!
Their lives are even worse than those of the students at Cuiping Mountain Men's Aviation Technical School!

He angrily grabbed the diamond-encrusted water bottle and took a swig.

It contains glacial water airlifted from Dubai, and each milliliter costs as much as Moutai liquor.

"Would Your Highness like a massage?" A deep male voice came from outside the door.

Walid nearly jumped out of his chair. "No need!"

He then added in Arabic, "May God bless you."

There's no way around it; after all, a prince has to maintain his princely elegance.

Please stay away from me, you bastard!

At this moment, Walid felt extremely desolate.

He fondly remembers that early summer of 2026.

That day, sunlight filtered through the leaves of the plane trees, casting dappled shadows on the tree-lined paths of Nanjing University of Science and Technology.

A gentle breeze stirred, causing the pleated skirts of the female students to sway softly. Their beautiful legs, clad in various stockings, gleamed alluringly in the sunlight, their long, slender lines sparkling in the light…

"Your Highness, it is time for the midday greeting."

The figure of the second steward, Little Angari, appeared under the Arab archway.

Walid glanced at the clock face: 12:05.

Looking up at the scene below, I saw several gardeners using a Plantosys infusion system imported from Germany to "give IV drips" to the date palm trees.

Under the sunlight, the pale green nutrient solution flowed through the transparent tube, and the unit price of the nutrient solution consumed by each tree per hour was comparable to that of an 82 Lafite.

"understood."

He didn't even dare to show a listless expression.

After all, in this Arab world, he could indulge in brothels, lose his ambition, and ruin his morals—that was all fine, but faith…

He hasn't had enough of his good days yet.

As you walk down the corridor, twelve maids are kneeling on the floor, diligently wiping the marble floor.

The neck beneath the silk headscarf curved in a humble arc, but what made Walid's neck twitch was...

I can't see a single hair.

She was completely covered up, and her figure wasn't even visible!
He braced himself and walked through the corridor, his trouser leg brushing against the trembling shoulder of a maid.

In that instant, he clearly felt the other person freeze instantly, even stopping breathing.

This life is unbearable!
The air in the chapel was heavy with the scent of sandalwood.

Walid knelt on the velvet prayer rug and prostrated himself in homage to the Imam's chanting.

"Damn! I have to pray five times a day, that's more frequent than I was doing physical education in college!"

These ridiculous rules are even more punctual than the dorm supervisors' room checks—morning prayers, noon prayers, evening prayers, dusk prayers, and night prayers—more punctual than their school's "health check-in" reminders!
Walid was internally ranting and raving, but he was chanting scriptures aloud.

The moment his forehead hit the ground, the cold marble reminded him of the metal desk in his university classroom.

The aroma of instant noodles sneaking around after the dormitory lights are turned off, the canvas bag used to reserve seats for early morning classes, and the strawberry shampoo scent wafting through the goddess's hair...

"God is the greatest—"

The imam's voice echoed under the dome, and Walid mechanically rose to his feet.

He glanced at his watch.

Only two minutes have passed, but this is even more unbearable than when the leader gave a speech in college!

If I had known that time travel would mean getting up early every day to attend church, I shouldn't have gambled on Luckin Coffee!

but……

It's better this way, we can't go back!

Just imagine, the boys' dormitories in 2026 must have been in complete chaos by then:

The department head, holding up his phone and recording, said: "Students, watch carefully. This is a typical example of someone who died suddenly due to overindulgence..."

Weibo trending topic: #A male college student's soul returned to his hometown#
The most ridiculous part is that the class beauty might even hypocritically place a bouquet of white chrysanthemums on his head: "Although he is indeed a pervert, he is really a good person..."

He couldn't even imagine what kind of social death this would be.

Therefore, he is Walid!
Absolutely!
So what the blond guy did in 2026 has nothing to do with Prince Walid in 2013!
Walid gritted his teeth and spoke with such fierce determination that his prostration became distorted.

The imam's warning gaze swept over him, and he quickly lowered his head to hide his distorted expression.

How great now!

A prince with impeccable political credentials, a family fortune that could last for decades, what's wrong with storing several terabytes of study materials on his computer?
Nonsence!

What's the point of saving data!
So what if we support a group of supermodels?
This is called royal tradition!

Overcome with excitement, he sneezed so hard that he blew snot bubbles out of his nose.

The kneeling guard immediately offered him a silk handkerchief embroidered with gold trim.

Look at this service! It's a million times better than those unfilial kids in the university dorms!
The long, drawn-out prostrations of the noon prayer finally ended, and Walid secretly breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if his entire body had been dissected.

He was so hungry he could have devoured a whole roasted suckling pig!
But clearly, this was a dream; the thought was nipped in the bud.

You can't even find a trace of pork in this godforsaken place.

Moreover, he could only eat after his mother and sister finished their prayers.

According to custom, women worship after men and cannot share a room with them.

At 12:40, the housekeeper, Xiao Anjiali, came to inform him that it was time for dinner.

The restaurant is not a grand banquet hall, but a more private family dining space, yet it is still luxurious.

The air was filled with the aroma of expensive saffron and freshly baked naan.

Mother Mona El-Solleh sat in the main seat, wearing a well-tailored dark robe. Her veil had been removed indoors, revealing a well-maintained face that exuded the dignity of age.

Luna Bint Khalid, who had just turned 12 a few days ago, sat to the left of her mother. Her young face lit up with a bright smile when she saw him, like a jasmine flower suddenly blooming in the desert.

Looking at that innocent and affectionate smile filled with pure dependence, Walid felt a warmth in his heart.

In his previous life, as an only child, he actually envied his classmates who had brothers and sisters.

Putting everything else aside, when our parents are old and lying in the hospital, at least when it comes to something as serious as removing the tubes, we can have a blood relative to discuss it with, so that we don't have to bear all the blame alone.

“Mother, Luna.”

Walid greeted them in standard Arabic and, with the elegance befitting a prince, sat down opposite them.

There's nothing to criticize about his manners and demeanor.

After all, well-mannered people are lucky wherever they go.

Our ancestors taught us a bloody lesson more than 1,800 years ago: if you don't have a keen eye, you might trigger the 'Great Wrath of the Clouds,' and be defeated in the blink of an eye, dying faster than the cold noodles on the back street.
But if someone is as measured in their actions as Jiang Wei, and addresses you respectfully as "Old General," then Grandpa Zilong can patiently practice with you for dozens of moves.

Three servants, dressed in neatly pressed uniforms and wearing white gloves, quietly began to set the table.

The pure gold tableware inlaid with enamel gleams with a warm glow under the light.

The plates were filled with Norwegian salmon flown in from abroad, Iranian caviar, and locally prepared roasted meats, each dish so exquisitely presented it was like a work of art.

“Walid,”

Princess Mona lightly dabbed her lips with a napkin, her gaze falling on her son with a mixture of scrutiny and concern.
"The doctor reported that you're recovering very well, praise God." She paused, then got to the point, "Now that you're healthy, it's time to think about your studies."

After all, Walid was only fifteen years old when he fell into a coma and was about to start high school, but now he has woken up as an adult who is almost twenty-three years old.

But how to arrange it is also a headache.

In the Saudi royal family, a top-tier arena of fame and fortune, formal education has long transcended simple "gilding" and has been elevated to the level of "strategic investment."

Under the pressure of modernization and globalization, tribal lineage alone is no longer enough to convince the public. Only by sending princes to Oxford, Harvard, and Stanford can the legitimacy of the rule be enhanced with a "knowledge elite" halo through diplomas, proving to both domestic and international audiences that "the royal family also possesses the expertise and technology required by a modern nation."

Moreover, within the royal family, academic qualifications were also used as a form of hard currency for promotion within the family.

If any prince of the same generation lacks a distinguished degree, he automatically loses the chance to compete for core positions in defense, energy, investment, and other fields.
Conversely, a STEM PhD or a top-tier MBA is equivalent to acquiring a sword and a falcon, which can be directly exchanged for important department ministerial or deputy ministerial positions, chairmanship of various funds, or CEO of various state-owned projects.

Even in terms of budget, the royal education fund exceeds that for defense research during the same period.

This is a "pedigree certificate" for the new era.

"Fahd University of Petroleum and Mining in Daman consistently ranks among the top 50 globally in disciplines such as petroleum engineering, chemical engineering, and computer science."

STEM programs at King Seri Begawan University of Technology, engineering programs at King Seri Begawan University, law programs at Imam University, or marine science programs at Aziz University in Jeddah are all excellent choices.

The summer mini-semester is about to start, why don't you go there first to take a few credits and get familiar with the environment?

Listening to his mother's detailed and precise list of "prestigious school recommendations," Huang Mao's inner voice screamed: Good heavens! This is no Saudi princess!
If this were a previous life on Earth, she would definitely be the ultimate elite mother, born from the fusion of the top-notch genes of Haidian mothers, the international vision of Shunyi mothers, the meticulous planning of Xuhui mothers, and the financial power of Pudong mothers!

and many more!

Walid suddenly recalled the mother's formidable background.

She doesn't need to learn from anyone; she is the daughter of Riad El-Soleh, the first prime minister of Lebanon, a true scion of a prestigious family, and a genuine high achiever who graduated from Yale University with both bachelor's and master's degrees!
This master-level eloquence and resource integration ability in multi-level marketing is a combination of family talent ingrained in his bones and elite education from Ivy League schools.

No wonder he can effortlessly pick out the top programs at Saudi Arabia's leading universities, with such precision that it's like a humanoid AI providing a college application guide!
Huang Mao felt a moment of disorientation.

If it weren't for that damned car accident that made me a sleeping prince for almost eight years, given how well this mother controls the Commonwealth education system, I would probably have my master's degree by now, and maybe even a STEM PhD spot.

The Commonwealth system involves two years of high school, three years of undergraduate studies, one year of master's studies, and three years of STEM doctoral studies.

With the right resources, anything is possible!
The results of it?
The debuff of being in a vegetative state has lasted for almost eight years.

I managed to ruin my academic progress bar and have to start over. Now I can only play within Saudi Arabia...

Just thinking about it makes me feel incredibly sorry for my mom!
Luna nodded vigorously, looking at her brother expectantly.

"Brother, how about King's University? It's in Riyadh! That way you can come home every day!"

Walid put down his knife and fork, looked up at his mother,

“Mother, thank you for your concern and arrangements. However… I would prefer to study in China.”

"China?!"

"elder brother?!"

Princess Mona and Luna spoke almost simultaneously, their voices filled with surprise and disapproval.

Princess Mona frowned slightly. "Too far, Al-Walid. Saudi Arabia is your true home."

What she really wanted to say was that this foolish son still had room to maneuver in Saudi Arabia.

And China...

Should we start from high school?
It wasn't that she looked down on her eldest son...

If this were in China, given this kid's level, it would be considered a sign of high regard from her if he could keep up from fourth grade onwards!
Luna eagerly echoed, nodding her head like a little bird pecking at rice.
"Yes, brother! It's such a faraway place, the climate, the food, and the language are all different! We'll miss you terribly!"

As she spoke, her little face scrunched up, as if she could already foresee her brother's miserable life in a foreign land.

Suddenly, as if remembering the most terrifying thing, she exaggeratedly covered her mouth with her little hands, her eyes widened, and her voice rose an octave.
"And...and...I heard they actually use lard in their cooking! Good heavens! That's terrifying! Even God would frown upon it!"

This realization made her feel terrible, as if a forbidden scent had filled the air.

Walid had anticipated their reaction.

lard?

That's exactly what I've been craving!
Ha, the Chinese stomach in Huang Mao's soul has begun to scream wildly: If we don't eat hot pot, we'll eat roasted meat!
And braised pork belly! Stir-fried pork intestines! Sweet and sour pork!
Moreover, he found out during his postgraduate entrance exam that the lamb skewers at Peking University's halal cafeteria were so good that even Middle Eastern students gave them a thumbs up.

Thinking about this, Walid suddenly realized something even more ingenious:
Once you get to China, who cares if you pray five times a day?
When the time comes, take off the white robe and tear off the gauze, pretend to go to church in the morning, and actually sneak off to the internet cafe to play games;
In the afternoon, I said I was going to listen to a sermon, but actually I was going to meet up with a junior from elementary school for milk tea.

Anyway, with 9,000 kilometers between them, religious police can't exactly track them down by following the internet, can they?

This isn't studying abroad; it's more like being released from prison!
Hmm... but these thoughts somehow feel a bit like I've transmigrated into the world of a poor author?
He almost burst out laughing, but quickly covered it up with a cough.

"There are also Muslims in China, and their schools have halal canteens."

To soothe...or rather, to shut down his sister's "but," he leaned forward slightly, looking intently at his mother, and began to speak.
"Mother……"

Walid's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a composure rarely seen in a young man. His fingertips unconsciously tapped lightly on the cold, golden edge of the table, producing a subtle yet clear sound.

"In the end, our family is no longer destined for that position; our family's foundation lies in business."

Personally, I believe that vision and timing are the foundation for my future livelihood.

He looked up at his mother, his gaze sincere yet carrying a hint of seeking understanding.

Look at China, it's like... well, like an unstoppable torrent, reshaping the world economic landscape at an unprecedented speed.

The market and potential of that land will be the focus of the world for decades to come.

He paused, observing his mother's expression, and continued.
"Moreover, as you must have noticed, China is attaching unprecedented importance to the Middle East and seeking deeper cooperative ties."

You know better than I do that the United States, across the ocean, is vigorously pursuing its shale oil revolution, and our relationship with them will be a delicate balance of competition and cooperation for a long time to come.

Within the royal family, there are already far too many pro-British and pro-American voices…

He looked up and stared directly into his mother's insightful eyes. "When I was little, you taught me that many people don't necessarily have great strength, and that following the crowd isn't always right."

For us, Motherland, China, is not just a land of lucrative business opportunities, but also a golden opportunity to weave a strong network of relationships for our family to the future.

Walid's tone became more earnest, even carrying a hint of youthful longing for the unknown.

“I went there not just to get a degree.”

I want to truly get close to it, understand it, and observe this country that will soon be closely linked to the fate of my family.

This approach, compared to staying in Saudi Arabia and learning step by step within the traditional framework, is more likely to help the family find its way forward and establish a solid foundation.

Mother, what do you think?
Isn't this more valuable than simply taking a few courses?

Please, Mother... help me.

The last sentence even carried a subtle, almost imperceptible, reliance on the mother's judgment.

Princess Mona was silent for a moment, then finally sighed softly.

She knew her son well; after waking up from a seven-year coma, he seemed to have changed a lot.

That stubbornness hidden beneath her lazy exterior sometimes felt unfamiliar to her.

She picked up the gold cup inlaid with emeralds and took a sip of water.

"Walid, what are your thoughts..."

She carefully considered her words, "It's very bold and insightful. But this is not something I can decide."

Tomorrow is your twenty-third birthday, and your father will be coming back from Geneva.

She looked at her son, her eyes hinting at a reminder, "When he comes back, you should discuss it with him yourself."

In Arab societies, a mother's authority to discipline her son is transferred to the father or patriarchal tribe after the son enters adolescence, while she retains control over her son's right to marry and have children.

Walid nodded respectfully on the surface, but he was secretly overjoyed.

This wave is stable!

Luna immediately looked at Walid pitifully, as if grasping at a straw, "Yes, brother, let's wait until Father comes back!"

Walid nodded, thanked his mother, and then looked at his sister with affection, "Don't worry! Don't worry! Let's wait for Father's decision."

However, he knew in his heart that his mother had already agreed, and his father...

That's even more no problem.

He certainly has the confidence to back it up.

Clearly, his father, Prince Khalid, who was currently in Geneva, was not Chinese and would not be subject to his mother's decision.

This confidence stems from the memories Huang Mao brought back from 2026.

When it comes to the level of fatherly love, Prince Khalid's love for his son Walid is absolutely top-tier, the world's number one!
To allow his son, who was in a coma after a car accident, to "come home," the prince built a replica of a top-tier hospital's intensive care unit at home, creating a "life fortress" that cost $100,000 a day, and has been guarding the sleeping Walid for twenty years.

He not only spent a staggering $6.6 million on medical expenses to "extend" his son's life, but also insisted on staying by his bedside every day, whispering to him and even personally pushing the hospital bed to show him the outside world on his son's birthday.

This unwavering commitment, which transcends money and even shakes the national medical ethics law, has long surpassed the ordinary father-son relationship and become a belief etched into their very bones.

Walid knew perfectly well that his father valued his son more than the kingdom:

As long as he asks, even if he wants to study on the moon, his father can force him to take out the lunar rocket and use it as a school bus!
Just as Luna was about to say something, light but hurried footsteps sounded outside the restaurant.

The figure of the second butler, Little Angari, appeared outside the restaurant's ornate carved archway.

He placed his right hand on his chest, bowed slightly, and spoke a few decibels faster than usual.

"Your Highness, Your Highness! Prince Turki and Prince Muhammad of the Salman family of the Sudri line have come to visit you and are waiting in the reception room."

It's no wonder that young Angari couldn't contain his excitement: ever since His Highness Walid fell into a coma in a car accident seven years ago, the mansion had been forgotten in a desert corner whenever Prince Khalid went out.

His Highness has only recently recovered, and the first distinguished guest to personally visit him is none other than the core prince of the Crown Prince's lineage and the Sudri faction!

This was nothing short of a silent yet dazzling declaration: the sleeping prince had awakened and had once again entered the center of the power dome's vision!
This sudden honor made Angari feel as if his butler uniform was edged with invisible gold, and his face flushed with excitement.

"The Salman family?"

A hint of surprise flashed in Princess Mona's eyes, but she quickly regained her composure.

This calmness is not a pretense, but stems from absolute confidence in the family's heritage.

At this time, the Talal faction was at its zenith, possessing immense wealth.

Her husband, Prince Khalid, firmly controls the oil pipelines from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean and a highly profitable arms smuggling network. He is also the largest private landowner in the kingdom.
Her brother-in-law, Prince Alwaleed, who has gained international fame, is known as the "Warren Buffett of the Middle East," a huge, invisible check in himself.

The vast Kingdom Holding Company, controlled by the two brothers, operates on a dual-engine model of industry and finance, and its Midas touch has already extended its reach globally.
Four Seasons Hotels, Plaza Hotels, Citibank, HP, Compaq, Apple, Twitter, and even the Bank of China in China…

Such a Talal faction is worth courting by any ambitious royal branch.

Moreover, a deeper karmic connection had already been sown.

Her eldest son, who had been asleep for seven years, was awakened by the young and sharp sixth son of the Salman family—Prince Mohammed bin Salman!

This special kindness and the natural bond that followed have already quietly tied the two families together.

The arrival of Salman's prince at this time is both a manifestation of political acumen and an inevitable sign of closeness under the changing times.

She immediately put down her cup, gave Luna a wink, and said decisively, "Valid, go and greet your cousins. Don't be afraid, there's always a first time."

Without a word, Luna quickly stood up, glanced at her brother with concern, but dared not delay and hurriedly put on her veil.

Without the slightest hesitation, the mother and daughter turned and quickly walked towards the small door at the back of the restaurant that led to the inner room, their figures disappearing swiftly behind the heavy velvet curtain.

Walid was suddenly left alone in the restaurant, the air still filled with the aroma of saffron and roasted meat, and the sudden silence.

……

(End of this chapter)