Chapter 1: Rebirth

Life is suffering, death is suffering, parting with loved ones is suffering, encountering those one despises is suffering, and failing to obtain what one desires is suffering. The Buddha spoke of eight sufferings, and Nie Yan endured five of them. His life was essentially a chronicle of hardship, though at least it was brief—he lived only to the age of twenty-eight.

His life perhaps should have ended there, but fate took a turn at that moment.

Nie Yan rolled over, feeling a dampness on his back. His clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin. Faintly, he remembered being shot in the back and falling to the ground, blood pooling around him.

So it’s just death, Nie Yan thought calmly. Dying quietly wasn’t such a bad way to go—it could even be a form of liberation.

He had lain in ambush at Cao Xu’s villa for five whole days. Finally, when Cao Xu appeared, Nie Yan pulled the trigger at the last possible moment before Cao Xu could get into his car. A bullet from his sniper rifle entered Cao Xu’s head with a bang, blood splattering everywhere. Through the scope, Nie Yan watched a hole appear in Cao Xu’s head, blood gushing out.

Cao Xu’s eyes were full of confusion, gradually losing focus.

The scene of the bullet hitting Cao Xu replayed in Nie Yan’s mind, filling him with an indescribable sense of satisfaction—it was an outpouring of hatred.

Cao Xu, who had enjoyed a life of luxury, died at the hands of a nobody like Nie Yan. He must have died resentfully. In the face of death, everyone is equal. No matter how much wealth one possesses, it cannot save one’s life.

Too much wrongdoing inevitably leads to retribution.

At the moment Cao Xu’s head exploded, Nie Yan found his worldview completely transformed. It turned out everything was just a bullet away. Perhaps tomorrow’s morning paper would feature his photo on the front page, announcing the murder of the richest man in the country, Cao Xu, followed by a dramatic shot of the criminal for public viewing.

After Nie Yan shot Cao Xu, Cao’s bodyguard noticed him, chased him, and shot him in the back.

A sharp pain surged through Nie Yan’s back. So this is what it felt like to be shot through. His heart gradually went numb, and he could feel his life force rapidly draining away.

Is this the end? Yet he smiled, laughing at the brevity of life, laughing at how confused and aimless he had been all his life. Only at the moment of death did he suddenly gain clarity.

And so he wept.

His parents’ deep-seated grudge had been avenged. Scenes from the past flashed through his mind like a movie. The only thing tying him to this world was her smile, pure and untainted.

She was Nie Yan’s high school classmate, now married to someone else. Yet her clear and beautiful face remained etched in Nie Yan’s heart. As time passed, the memory grew more poignant. He wondered how she would react upon hearing the news of his and Cao Xu’s mutual demise—would she sigh, or would she cry?

Long-buried memories surged forth like a broken dam. He regretted deeply; some things became clear only when it was too late. In this lifetime, he had too many regrets and unfinished wishes.

Nie Yan reached out, trying to grasp something, but everything seemed to drift away. His life was reaching its end, and ahead lay only eternal darkness.

Regret and despair pierced his heart like a sharp knife, unbearable pain flooding him.

What had I done in my past life to deserve such punishment and torment from heaven!

Nie Yan’s heart was filled with resentment and unwillingness. He screamed silently, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Gradually, after what seemed like an eternity, Nie Yan’s emotions settled.

His mind was still active, capable of thought. Could this be death? Or perhaps this was his soul.

After a while, Nie Yan felt a slight sensation in his fingers, so real. Why did he still have consciousness after so long? He suddenly sat up, looking around in confusion.

Was this hell?

His lifeless eyes slowly regained focus. Around him were some old items: a wooden bed, a chair, and somewhat damaged flooring.

Where was he? Wasn’t he dead?

It felt like a dream, an unreal sensation. He touched his back and found his hand covered in a sticky liquid. Bringing it in front of him, he saw it was sweat, not blood. His back was soaked with sweat, giving him that damp feeling.

What was going on?

Didn’t he bleed a lot? He vaguely remembered that blood, red like wine, the color of fading life.

Nie Yan pinched himself; he could feel pain. This wasn’t a dream. Could the events of the assassination of Cao Xu have been just a dream?

But why did it feel so real?

Just like the ancient philosopher Zhuangzi upon waking from his dream, muttering to himself: was I a butterfly dreaming of being Zhuangzi, or was I Zhuangzi dreaming of being a butterfly?

Which was real, and which was a dream?

He looked around in confusion, with too many unanswered questions.

Dim lighting, an old wooden bed, desk, and chair. On the wall hung an old clock his father called an antique, ticking away. Nie Yan remembered that it was never accurate.

Memories unfolded like an old photo album.

The surroundings felt so familiar. Wasn’t this the house he lived in during high school?

Sunlight filtered through holes in the curtain, causing sharp pain as his pupils adjusted to the brightness, giving him a piercing sense of reality.

I’m alive, Nie Yan thought, holding up his right hand. These slightly immature hands were unnaturally pale.

“What’s going on with me? Am I the me of ten years ago, or the me of ten years later?” Nie Yan scratched his head, puzzled.

He organized his thoughts, and some fragments of memory gradually became clear.

This was the summer of his eighteenth year, during his second year of high school. His parents were away, and he had nearly died from a high fever of forty degrees.

His parents had left him some money and then disappeared without a word. For two or three months, they didn’t return, and their phones were unreachable, as if they had vanished. At the time, he thought his parents had abandoned him. Fear, anxiety, and terror accompanied him, compounded by his high fever, leaving deep psychological scars. He became timid and withdrawn, a personality that wouldn’t change until he was over twenty-five.

Later, when he grew up, he learned the truth. His parents hadn’t abandoned him but had borrowed money from relatives and friends to engage in smuggling along the border. At that time, the country urgently needed a metal called polonium, an important strategic material. After countries discovered its uses, they quickly restricted its export and stockpiled it. Somehow, Nie Yan’s parents found a way to collect this material and smuggled it back to China, where it was purchased at hundreds of times its market value, earning them a fortune.

The situation was tense back then, so Nie Yan’s parents couldn’t contact him. Moreover, the matter was a military secret; if it had been leaked, it could have led to their deaths. Thus, the misunderstanding between Nie Yan and his parents was born. It wasn’t until many years later, after the incident had passed, that his father finally told him the truth, and Nie Yan forgave them.

Starting that year, his father used the initial fortune he had earned to start a metal smelting company. He managed a few major deals, and his business took off rapidly, solving the family’s financial difficulties. As a result, Nie Yan transferred to a prestigious school in the city.

Could it really be that I’ve returned to that time?

Could everything truly start anew?

A mix of excitement and anxiety filled Nie Yan, who couldn’t describe his current feelings. He worried that everything around him was just a dream.

Nie Yan got up from the bed and pulled open the curtain. Blazing sunlight poured in, its warmth a tangible confirmation that he wasn’t dreaming.

Looking down, he saw his textbooks on the desk by the window—Mechanical Theory, Automation Theory, Chinese, Advanced Mathematics, Intelligent Programming Languages, and more.

Nie Yan opened the books. The familiar words flowed like a spring, accompanied by memories, soothing his heart. These textbooks represented his lost youth. When he entered his third year of high school, he transferred to a prestigious school in the city. His father’s business success brought great material abundance, making him a wealthy second-generation youth. He became lazy and his academic performance declined. Later, his father paid to get him into a prestigious university, but until graduation, he learned little, spending his days idly.

At twenty-five, his father’s business was targeted by the Century Conglomerate led by Cao Xu. Several relatives and friends his father trusted were bribed by Cao Xu and betrayed him. One setback after another hit the company, and the family fell into hardship again. His father committed suicide by poisoning, and his mother died of grief and illness. After losing both parents, Nie Yan learned to strive. He studied many subjects on his own, but by then, he had already missed many opportunities.

Nie Yan had once been full of hope, ready to carve out his own path. But how could Cao Xu, the man who had destroyed his family, allow Nie Yan, the son of his enemy, to rise again? Under Cao Xu’s interference, no company dared to hire Nie Yan, pushing him into a corner with no way out. If it weren’t for the meager income he earned playing the virtual online game Faith, he wouldn’t have even had enough to eat.

There was no hope of defeating Cao Xu head-on. When a rabbit is cornered, it bites. Desperate, Nie Yan finally chose to take Cao Xu down with him. That gunshot was the culmination of Nie Yan’s hatred.

Heaven is just. Cao Xu probably never expected such an ending.

Nie Yan thought he had died, but time had played a trick on him—he had returned to the summer of his second year in high school.

Although he couldn’t contact his parents, Nie Yan was certain they were still alive. Thinking of this often brought tears to his eyes.

In his past life, he wanted to care for his parents, but they were no longer there. The sorrow in Nie Yan’s heart was something no one else could understand.

Heaven had given him another chance, and he would never again drift aimlessly through life.

His parents wouldn’t return for another twenty days or so. It was summer vacation, and he was alone at home.

“Second semester of high school sophomore year. I remember that the virtual online game Faith had just launched not long ago,” Nie Yan recalled clearly. The year Faith launched was marked by an influx of conglomerates, all pouring in massive capital to develop Faith on a large scale, making it truly deserve the title of the second world for humanity.

He entered Faith later, after transferring to the prestigious school and spending over a semester there, introduced by a close friend. By then, many people were already at high levels, and he had missed the optimal time to level up, forcing him to play catch-up later.

Each page of memory was re-colored, vibrant and vivid. Those days in the game were the most unforgettable times of his life. He made many friends, and the lonely days weren’t too boring because of them.

Before shooting Cao Xu, Nie Yan had been a level 180+ rogue thief. Though not top-tier, he was still considered a skilled player.

Suddenly, Nie Yan remembered that he had a bank card in his drawer—that was all his savings.

“Enough money to buy a helmet,” Nie Yan thought, pulling open the drawer and searching. Finally, in a corner, he found the silver-white bank card. According to his memory, it held 2,000 credit points, with one credit point equaling one yuan. It was money he had saved frugally over several years. At the time, he had wanted to buy the latest X3 computer, but before he could save enough, the X3 became obsolete. Later, when his father’s business succeeded, his allowance became much more generous. Wanting to make up for lost time, his father practically gave him anything he asked for.

At eighteen, Nie Yan possessed the soul of a twenty-eight-year-old. Starting over, life had turned a new page. Without sufficient capital, he couldn’t do much, so he would start with the game. With his previous gaming experience, becoming a professional player and making some money would be simple enough.

He remembered that when the Faith game helmet was first released, it was sold cheaply to promote adoption. There were three models—A, B, and C—each with different configurations and virtual immersion levels ranging from 76% to 98%. The cheapest model, the C-type, cost only 1,300 credit points. With Nie Yan’s current savings, he could afford the lowest model.

He remembered many things about the game clearly. Starting over, it wouldn’t be hard to make a name for himself.

Putting the bank card in his pocket, Nie Yan’s gaze fell on the Advanced Mathematics textbook beside him. Instinctively, he picked it up and shook it. A crisp new hundred-yuan bill fell out, and some memories surfaced again.

Suddenly, he remembered his first encounter with Xie Yao—it had happened today, triggered by him taking this hundred yuan to go out and buy medicine.

Xie Yao had been his deskmate in senior year and the class beauty. The past was hard to recall without regret. Ten years later, Xie Yao dated Liu Rui, the acknowledged intellectual of their class, and they moved to the moon. Later, after a few phone calls with Xie Yao, Nie Yan learned she wasn’t happy at all. When they talked about high school, both sighed with nostalgia.

If only he had been braver back then, if only he hadn’t been so timid and insecure in front of Xie Yao, maybe things would have turned out differently.

Sometimes, turning away once meant a lifetime of separation, an irreparable regret.

Back then, Xie Yao liked to wear white dresses, beautiful and pure. Her image remained deeply etched in Nie Yan’s heart. That bittersweet longing was like a flute’s sound at dusk—distant and serene.

Nie Yan glanced at the old clock on the desk. The hands pointed to three. He should still have time. He grabbed the bill and rushed downstairs.

They lived in the suburbs, a very desolate area. The old, narrow road wasn’t wide, and the wind often kicked up dust. On both sides, many trees had been planted. Despite the scorching sun, they remained lush, casting green shadows on the ground.

It was the hottest part of the afternoon, with few pedestrians and little traffic. Occasionally, a floating car passed by.

In his past life, Nie Yan had hated this city. But now, returning to this remote place felt unexpectedly warm and familiar—it was where he had lived for eighteen years.

Nie Yan’s timid personality before age twenty-five was also related to his environment. A country boy from a small city, he suddenly became rich after transferring to a prestigious urban school. His previously outstanding grades in high school became among the worst there. He was often mocked for his poor fashion sense. Combined with the events of that summer, he developed a sense of insecurity and psychological trauma. In the new environment, he felt even more timid and out of place. Without a few close friends, he might have had a mental breakdown.

Never did he expect that after a lifetime, he would return to the beginning. Nie Yan would never be like his past self again.

He ran all the way to the pharmacy.

The surrounding buildings were somewhat dilapidated, and the area was sparsely populated. With the acceleration of urbanization, people from small cities flocked to big cities, leading to widespread abandonment in small cities. The population was decreasing, and in another hundred years or so, this place would be demolished and turned back into farmland.

“That’s the school, and this is the supermarket,” Nie Yan thought, recognizing the familiar buildings like an old horse finding its way. His mood gradually brightened. I’m back. I’m really back!

In the past, he often resented the unfairness of fate, but now, he felt grateful to heaven.

I want to start over! I want to live well! Nie Yan couldn’t help but want to shout out, releasing the excitement in his heart.