Chapter One: A Lifelong Shame to Remember

A sharp slap rang out, sending a boy of about fifteen or sixteen staggering backwards, the cigarette dangling from his lips flying several meters away. He fell to the ground, eyes glazed and expression blank, as if that slap had left him utterly dazed.

The boy had a close-cropped haircut, a thin frame clad in a faded white T-shirt, and a gray-black backpack slung over his shoulders. He lay motionless on the dirt path.

Standing next to him were two delinquent teenagers, their hair dyed in gaudy colors and tattoos snaking up their arms. They laughed loudly and arrogantly at the boy sprawled on the ground.

The tall, yellow-haired one who had just struck him spat out, “Damn! You dare take my cigarette like that? Who do you think you are, the boss?”

“Boss, why isn’t this kid moving...”

Amid a wave of dizziness and ringing in his ears, Zhou Xuan had no idea where he was. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, as if an entire century had passed before he finally awoke from the darkness.

He forced his eyes open. Suddenly, a burst of brightness assaulted his vision; the sunlight was dazzling. Instinctively, he raised a hand to shield his eyes, only to feel a sharp pain radiate through his palm. He couldn’t help but gasp.

It took a while before Zhou Xuan realized he was sprawled on a dirt road, pain throbbing in his left cheek and right hand. Looking down, he saw a small, skinny hand. Zhou Xuan felt as though he’d been struck by lightning. He muttered in disbelief, “Didn’t I die?”

A curse rang out behind him, accompanied by a vicious kick to his back. “Damn it! You playing dead? Get up!”

A stabbing pain shot through his back. Zhou Xuan twisted around to look and, in that instant, rage erupted inside him. Decades of buried resentment flared up, exploding in his mind.

Distant memories surged like a broken dam: It was September 28, 1997, the day of a humiliation he would never forget.

At the time, Zhou Xuan was in his third year of middle school. It was a Sunday, and he was on his way from home to attend school in the county. He had set out in good spirits, but on the rural road he was waylaid by two thugs.

Because of his timid nature, Zhou Xuan had been slapped twice and handed over his only fifty yuan for living expenses. Too afraid to tell his family, he survived the next two weeks on pickled vegetables, a wretched existence. That event directly shaped his lifelong timidity, casting an indelible shadow over his character.

Now he found himself reliving that very moment—the thugs, the yellow-haired one offering him a cigarette and lighting it for him, only to slap him again for not cupping the flame properly.

Memory and reality overlapped. Zhou Xuan stared at the two before him: even after all these years, he’d recognize them in any guise.

A wild laugh bubbled up from deep within him. “Ha! Heaven has opened its eyes! I’ve been reborn—and at the very moment of my greatest humiliation!”

He couldn’t suppress his laughter, his face twisting with rage and madness, like a vengeful spirit returned from the dead, ready to tear the world apart.

It all happened in a flash. As the yellow-haired thug kicked again, Zhou Xuan spun around, seized his leg, and yanked forward.

A sickening crack sounded, followed by a scream. The yellow-haired thug did an involuntary split, landing hard in the mud.

Zhou Xuan sprang up, unleashing a punch with all his strength into the thug’s stomach.

A shriek tore through the air as the tall thug clutched his belly, collapsing onto the muddy ground, writhing in pain.

“Damn! You hit the boss!” The shorter thug, finally reacting, lunged at Zhou Xuan.

Zhou Xuan sidestepped, caught the other’s fists, and shoved him forward. The thug stumbled, and Zhou Xuan kicked his shin. With a thud, the thug crashed face-first into the dirt. Zhou Xuan grabbed him by the back, drew his fist, and landed several heavy blows before letting go.

Seeing both were incapacitated, Zhou Xuan finally exhaled in relief. Though it looked effortless, his heart was pounding. Thankfully, with the boxing skills he’d learned in his previous life, he’d managed to use this frail body to defeat them—at last washing away the shame that had haunted him.

He picked up a stone, weighed it in his hand, and strode over to the yellow-haired thug, who was clutching his groin.

“Weren’t you pretty cocky just now?” Zhou Xuan said, bringing the stone down hard on the thug’s thigh.

Though it missed the bone, the stone’s sharp edge bit deep into the muscle, causing the thug to howl in agony. “Damn! You dare hit me? Do you know who I am?”

“I don’t care who you are! You dare hit me? Tired of living?” Zhou Xuan’s face grew even fiercer and more unhinged as he saw the thug’s bravado lingering.

I’ve been reborn—who am I afraid of?

Zhou Xuan knew these little punks only bullied the weak and feared the ruthless. Only by being tougher and more reckless than them would they be cowed.

The ferocity in Zhou Xuan’s eyes made the yellow-haired thug shudder—finally, a flicker of fear appeared on his face.

At last, the thug caved in. “Boss! We were wrong—please, just let us go!”

Zhou Xuan raised the stone again, and the thug, unable to bear it, began to beg for mercy.

“Ha! Let you go?” Zhou Xuan laughed wildly, almost maniacally. “Did I provoke you, or get in your way? Now you want me to let you go—why should I?”

Thinking of the shame of his past life, Zhou Xuan’s hatred burned hotter. He brought the stone down again.

With a thud, the stone grazed the thug’s thigh and struck the hard earth, leaving a small pit in the dirt.

Zhou Xuan had transformed from a meek lamb into a wolf, and the thug now thought Zhou Xuan had gone mad.

What is most terrifying in this world? Undoubtedly, a madman—because there’s nothing he won’t do.

The yellow-haired thug was gripped by terror. “Boss! It’s my fault! Whatever you want, I’ll do it!”

Without another word, the thug fished out a wad of cash and shoved it at Zhou Xuan. “Boss, here—your money.”

Zhou Xuan stuffed the money into his bag, his expression easing at last. “You’re wise to comply! If you cross me again, watch your miserable life.”

Then he clapped his hands together, and the stone in his palm shattered into four or five pieces that fell to the ground.

The two thugs stared at the broken stones in horror.

“I’ll let you off for today. Hmph!” Zhou Xuan tossed out an icy threat, slung his bag over his shoulder, and strode toward the county town.

After walking several hundred meters and turning a corner, Zhou Xuan glanced back and finally relaxed: it seemed he had truly cowed them.

He shook out his right hand; the skin on the back was scraped and stinging. Smashing people with a stone had felt good, but it hurt to hit such hard ground. As for that last bit of bravado—he’d known the stone was brittle, and after a few blows, a twist had split it apart.

Only now could Zhou Xuan believe he had truly been reborn—reborn at this very moment, sparing himself the shame of his former life. He couldn’t help but feel elated, bursting into laughter.

He would never forget the scenes from his previous life: how timid and cowardly he had been, losing a month’s living expenses without uttering a word, enduring beatings in silence. A middle schooler, buying a giant bag of pickled vegetables, trading meal tickets for rice, eating alone in a deserted corner, choking down hard rice and dry pickles, parched and bitter inside, choking back tears because his living expenses had been borrowed and he dared not tell his family.

He remembered being discovered by a classmate while eating pickles, the look of ridicule on his classmate’s face, and tears welled up in his eyes.

After a long time, Zhou Xuan wiped away his tears, glanced back one last time, and walked forward without hesitation.

In that moment, Zhou Xuan swore: since Heaven had granted him a second chance, he would live this life with dignity—never again would anyone dare slap him.