Chapter 1: Returning to Seventeen

The girl before him leaned against the railing, her hips slightly raised, the thin athletic shorts accentuating a full, graceful curve.
Beneath the rounded lines were a pair of healthy calves, slender and beautifully proportioned.
She turned her head, her eyes glistening with moisture, her tone a mix of shy irritation and urgency, “Lin Zhiyi, how long are you going to dawdle? If you don’t hurry up, I’m not playing along anymore!”
The boy behind her wore an expressionless face, cracking his knuckles with a “click-clack” sound, and sneered at her words, “What are you thinking? You really think I’d let you off at this point?”
Before his words faded, he suddenly raised his leg, delivering a sharp kick to her backside.
“Ah!”
The struck area rippled enticingly, and the girl let out a short, startled gasp.
At that moment, a door nearby swung open, and a teacher’s stern voice cut through, “What are you two doing?”
Lin Zhiyi: “…”
The girl: “…”
You might wonder how things escalated to this point? The explanation is a bit complicated.
You probably won’t believe it, but not long ago, this boy named Lin Zhiyi was a man in his thirties.
It all began a month ago.

A month earlier.
“Lin Zhiyi?”
In the school’s backyard, a black-haired boy sat on a bench, ignoring the distant call of a girl, instead repeatedly examining his hands.
His expression was complex, tinged with a hint of confusion, some excitement, and a great deal of astonishment.
This was the school’s greenery garden, where sunlight spilled onto the stone path, tree shadows swayed, and the distant clamor of the sports field only deepened the quiet here.
Lin Zhiyi wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming—how could his thirty-something self have returned to being seventeen?
His mind was a mess, recalling only a female high schooler saying she’d help him “cross over,” but he couldn’t tell if that was a dream or reality.
For the third time, he pinched his cheek—it hurt. For the seventh time, he checked the date on his watch: it was indeed the first semester of his second year, September 20th.
He studied his hands again, fingers long and youthful. Without a doubt, this was his teenage body—he had truly been reborn!
For a moment, he didn’t know how to put his feelings into words.
“Lin Zhiyi.”
A clear, cool voice, carrying just the right touch of distance, like a stream in early winter, snapped him back to reality.
He looked up to find a girl standing before him.
Her high ponytail framed a calm face, her eyes clear and bright, reflecting his image within them.
“What is it, Class Monitor?”
This girl was Cheng Xiran, his class monitor.
At Ninghai High School, the name Cheng Xiran was known to all.
The primary reason was her striking appearance.
A video on the school’s official account had gone viral online. Originally meant to showcase new students, Cheng Xiran’s brief appearance stole the show, sending the comment section into a frenzy.
Countless boys fell head over heels, some even secretly changing their high school entrance exam choices just for her.
The world is fair: exceptional people often have hidden strengths, while those with obvious flaws might have their greatest asset mistaken for a weakness.
Cheng Xiran was such a person. Beyond her flawless looks, she excelled academically and came from a well-off family. Boys who admired her could line up from the delicious beef noodle stall at Cafeteria No. 3 all the way to the corner of the sports field. Yet, her aloof and remarkable aura meant few dared to approach her.
Lin Zhiyi had once been one of those ordinary boys. In his past life, he’d liked her for three years.
But now, he could barely recall that feeling. Looking at the girl before him, she felt like a stranger, someone unrelated to him.
After all, so much time had passed. The once heart-wrenching emotions had long faded into something else.
Perhaps he had truly been smitten once, but that had nothing to do with the current him.
Cheng Xiran got straight to the point, “Teacher Ma asked me to pick up some documents.” She paused, her gaze politely lingering on Lin Zhiyi’s school badge, “She said… you should have them ready.”
Lin Zhiyi didn’t immediately grasp what she meant, but her serious demeanor suggested she wasn’t joking. He thought hard and realized she was likely referring to the scholarship application form.
He qualified for the scholarship because both his parents had passed away. The teacher probably hadn’t explained this to Cheng Xiran to protect his privacy and dignity.
In the future Lin Zhiyi knew, he was a wealthy bachelor, poor only in companionship, owning luxury homes and cars in the first-tier city of Lijiang, living a carefree life. But at seventeen, he was undeniably strapped, calculating every penny since he had no parental support to fall back on.
Lin Zhiyi understood her purpose but decided not to waste time on this. He recalled his past life, where he’d diligently submitted all the documents yet still didn’t receive the scholarship. Teacher Ma, who cared deeply for her students, had sighed repeatedly when breaking the news, avoiding his gaze and awkwardly saying something went wrong somewhere.
Just as Lin Zhiyi was about to brush the matter off, a loud male voice came from the other side of the wall.
“Lin Yingyuan, please be my girlfriend!”
The shout interrupted their conversation, and both fell silent. Lin Zhiyi’s expression shifted slightly at the name. Before he could think, his body instinctively moved toward the wall’s corner, wanting to hear what was happening.
Cheng Xiran glanced at him curiously, then stepped over to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him, also straining to listen.
Lin Zhiyi hadn’t expected her to react this way, nor to stand so close that the faint scent of white roses from her hair filled his nose.
But his focus was on the other side. He listened intently, though the voices grew fainter and less clear, making it hard to discern what was happening.
A moment later, a boy emerged from behind the wall, his face dark and displeased. Seeing Lin Zhiyi and Cheng Xiran standing so close, he sighed and hurried away.
In half a second, Lin Zhiyi realized the boy might have misunderstood his relationship with the class monitor. But Cheng Xiran seemed unfazed, either unaware or indifferent to the situation.
Soon after, a girl stepped out. Her face was expressionless. Lin Zhiyi studied her features, understanding why this first-year student, Lin Yingyuan, had become as renowned as Cheng Xiran as a campus beauty within just a month of enrolling. She absolutely lived up to the title.
Her skin was fair, her features striking, with a small teardrop mole at the corner of her eye. But her expression was cold, her lips slightly pursed, exuding a sense of weariness. As she walked, her calm gaze swept the surroundings, devoid of emotion.
Lin Yingyuan emerged from behind the wall, noticing Lin Zhiyi and Cheng Xiran standing together, looking sneaky. She gave them a puzzled glance but didn’t speak, instead passing by quickly.
“Do you know that girl?” Cheng Xiran asked.
Lin Zhiyi hesitated, “No.”
Cheng Xiran nodded noncommittally and waved goodbye. Lin Zhiyi watched her graceful figure retreat, wondering about the purpose behind her question.
The break was nearly over, and he returned to the classroom. A casual glance landed on Cheng Xiran. His seat was by the window in the back row, while hers was in the second row by the corridor—practically the farthest diagonal distance in the classroom.
He sat down, looking at his textbook, and realized a pressing problem.
Though he’d studied diligently in high school, years in the workforce had eroded those memories. If he had to relearn everything, it would be a disaster.
But when he opened the textbook, he was surprised to find the characters weren’t as blurry or obscure as he’d feared.
The knowledge in the book resurfaced in his mind as vividly as if he’d memorized it yesterday, making it hard to tell if his thirty-year-old self had crossed back to seventeen, or if his seventeen-year-old self had gained future memories.
This was a relief—he wouldn’t need to re-memorize high school material. But at the same time, he realized his seventeen-year-old feelings for Cheng Xiran were creeping back into his heart.
It was a melody woven from inferiority, youth, and a racing heartbeat, stirring restlessly within him, making his long-dormant heart pound fiercely once more.
At that moment, Cheng Xiran turned her head, locking eyes with him across the crowded classroom. In that instant, the world seemed to fall silent.