Chapter 2: The First Day of Rebirth

Lin Zhiyi thought he had already achieved a heart as still as water, but at this moment, gazing into those bright eyes, his heart skipped a beat.

Amid the thunderous pounding of his heartbeat, he locked eyes with Cheng Xiran for a long while.

In his previous life, he had never dared to stare so boldly at her face like this—her lips were rosy, her gaze bright, the subtle puffiness beneath her eyes lending a gentle, watery softness to her gaze, while a stray lock of hair hung by her temple, and she reached up with one hand to tuck it behind her ear.

The child buried deep in Lin Zhiyi’s heart suddenly leaped out, ordering him to immediately avert his eyes; it brandished a gavel named “Inferiority,” declaring this the final verdict to be executed at once.

But in the end, the grown version of himself won the negotiation.

The child screamed in retreat, and his heartbeat gradually calmed.

Thus, he met the class monitor’s gaze with composure, the bustling classroom filled with the clamor of classmates, yet only a ring of silent air enveloped the space around them.

Cheng Xiran looked away first.

Lin Zhiyi also withdrew his gaze, utterly puzzled.

—What was this about?

This didn’t seem like his mind at all.

This feeling was too strange; he clearly no longer liked Cheng Xiran anymore, or so he thought.

It was as if there were two people in his head: one was a seventeen-year-old boy, shouting loudly, “I like her!”

The other was an adult, glancing indifferently at the former and drawling coolly, “How boring.”

Couldn’t he just recover his high school knowledge without recovering his high school emotions?

Unfortunately, there was no such perfect deal.

After school, amid the soothing chime of the bell, students filed across the green sports field and out the gates one by one.

Lin Zhiyi had always felt that the music played on the broadcast during dismissal was slow and peaceful, comforting to the soul, while the upbeat tunes during class were too hurried, stirring up restlessness.

He suspected this wasn’t entirely due to the rhythm of the music; it was more the emotions evoked by the meanings the songs had been imbued with.

He wove through the crowd, stepping once more onto that familiar yet alien street, heading home under the setting sun, thinking to himself that the last time he had walked this way was many years ago.

In an instant, a thousand emotions welled up unbidden.

The last time he had passed through here, he was still a green, awkward boy, his eyes filled with bewilderment and self-doubt, uncertain of what the future held, feeling only that a fog shrouded the path ahead, with the life of his dreams on some unreachable shore.

But now, standing here, he felt neither confusion nor inferiority.

Because he knew that the future version of himself would undoubtedly live a good life—money was something he would have sooner or later, and this second chance would only let him do even better than before.

This time, he could experience this youth anew with fresh eyes.

It was amusing, really—he got lost, taking an extra fifteen minutes to find his way home.

In his previous life, he hadn’t come to this place for many years, and as he walked, the road felt both familiar and strange; it looked just like he remembered, yet something was off, leading him to circle around in a big loop.

Fortunately, he found it.

Lin Zhiyi surveyed the surroundings of the residential complex, noting how much more rundown it appeared compared to the future, which made it feel all the more endearing.

In the future, this place looked completely different—not only had the apartment buildings been renovated, but electronic access doors, parcel lockers, and a major overhaul of the landscaping had been added.

He couldn’t help taking a few extra glances at the little convenience store by the entrance, brimming with the lively scent of daily life; in the future, it too would vanish, replaced by a standardized JOJO convenience chain.

He located his building number, entered the stairwell, bounded up the concrete stairs, inserted the key into the lock, turned it—“click”—and the door opened.

Light spilled out from the crack in the door as he gently pushed it wider.

“I’m home,” he said softly.

In the living room, a young girl was hunched over the coffee table, scribbling away at her homework.

The soft lamplight outlined her delicate profile and the elegant bridge of her nose; a single strand of hair had fallen onto her workbook, but she remained oblivious, lost in her calculations.

The boy’s voice made her slowly lift her head, their gazes meeting in the air.

“Welcome back, bro,” she said lightly, a faint smile curving her lips.

Lin Yingyuan was Lin Zhiyi’s sister, though no one at school knew this.

Though she was his sister, Lin Yingyuan wasn’t actually his blood sister; she was the daughter of one of his distant paternal cousins.

That cousin had been on very good terms with his father, and rumor had it she had provided substantial help to their family in business matters.

Lin Zhiyi knew little of the older generation’s affairs, only vaguely recalling that whenever his father mentioned her, there was always a tone of respect in his voice.

That was, until three years ago, when one day his father brought home a scrawny little girl.

Lin Zhiyi still remembered that scene vividly: at just thirteen, she kept her head bowed low, her fingers clenched tightly in the hem of her skirt, her timid eyes brimming with unease.

His father, Lin Chengming, had placed a very solemn hand on Lin Zhiyi’s shoulder and told him, “Her mother was a benefactor to our family, and now she’s gone. From today on, you are to treat her as your own sister—never let her suffer the slightest grievance.”

Lin Zhiyi had nodded.

So, strictly speaking, they weren’t even truly siblings; that thin thread of blood relation had to be traced back to their great-great-grandfather’s generation.

But since his father had said it, he did it—first out of duty, and later it simply became habit.

Who could have foreseen that, a year after Lin Yingyuan moved in, a terrible tragedy would strike: an accident at the construction site where Lin Chengming worked.

On the day of the funeral, a drizzling rain fell endlessly, and beneath the sea of black umbrellas, the mourners murmured in low voices; Lin Yingyuan had gripped his sleeve so tightly that her nails nearly dug into his flesh.

It was then that he truly realized this girl, bound to him by no blood tie, had become his one and only family in the world.

Lin Yingyuan was a year younger than Lin Zhiyi; in the year he entered his second year of high school, she advanced to the same school and made this request of him: she hoped they would pretend to be strangers at school.

Lin Zhiyi hadn’t understood the reason behind her request and was quite surprised when he first heard it.

He had been drinking water at the time and nearly choked.

“What? Do you think I’m an embarrassment?”

“That’s not it at all!”

Lin Yingyuan’s tone grew urgent; she certainly didn’t want him to misunderstand, but she didn’t explain herself very clearly either—instead, she insisted half-seriously, half-wheedlingly until he had no choice but to agree.

After all, who was he? Her brother.

And sometimes, being the brother meant there was no second option.

Lin Zhiyi occasionally wondered if there were subtler emotions hidden behind this simple request.

But he had never been able to fathom his little sister’s true intentions.

The first time he encountered Lin Yingyuan on campus after the new students enrolled, they caught each other’s eyes from afar and, as if by unspoken agreement, both quickly looked away.

She was walking with her textbooks in her arms, chatting amiably with a few other girls.

Lin Zhiyi honored their pact, pretending she was a stranger, deliberately averting his gaze as he passed her by; in that moment of brushing shoulders, he caught her scent—faint and pleasant, the smell of their home’s laundry detergent.

A cool autumn breeze swept through the school’s central courtyard corridor, rustling the trees gently, accompanied by birdsong drifting into his ears; he felt an emptiness settle in his heart.

But what he didn’t know was that, after they passed each other, it was Lin Yingyuan who turned her head first.

In any case, they were like a pair of secret lovers: strangers under the daylight sun, sharing dinner together at home under the evening lights.