Birth's pain, death's pain, the pain of being parted from those you love, the pain of meeting those you hate, the pain of not getting what you seek—the Buddha spoke of eight sufferings, and Nie Yan bore fully five of them. His life was basically a history of misery; thankfully it was a short one, because he only lived to be twenty-eight.
Perhaps his life should have ended there, but fate took a turning point at that moment.
Nie Yan turned over, feeling a dampness on his back. His clothes were sticky against his skin, very uncomfortable. He vaguely remembered being hit in the back by a bullet, falling to the ground, with blood pooling everywhere.
It was just death—Nie Yan was quite resigned to it. Dying quietly like this could be considered a kind of release.
He had ambushed outside Cao Xu's villa for five whole days. After finally waiting for Cao Xu to appear, he pulled the trigger in the fleeting moment barely allowing a breath as Cao Xu was getting into his car. With a sniper rifle, he sent a bullet into Cao Xu's head. With a bang, blood splattered everywhere. Through the scope, a hole appeared on Cao Xu's head, gushing blood gurgling.
Cao Xu's gaze was full of bewilderment, and gradually it grew vacant, losing its focus.
The process of the bullet blowing open his head replayed in Nie Yan's mind, filling him with immense satisfaction—it was the release of his hatred.
Cao Xu had enjoyed a lifetime of glory and wealth, yet he died at the hands of a nobody like Nie Yan. He probably couldn't be too content as a ghost. In the face of death, everyone is equal. Even if he had wealth enough to rival a nation, it couldn't save his life.
One commits too many evils—sooner or later, retribution karma comes full circle.
The moment Cao Xu's head exploded, Nie Yan found his outlook on life had undergone a complete transformation. Turns out, everything was just a bullet away. In tomorrow's morning paper, his photo might make the front page headline. It would read, 'Billionaire Cao Xu Killed,' with a huge close-up of the perpetrator for the world to gaze upon and revere.
After Nie Yan shot Cao Xu, Cao Xu's personal bodyguard spotted him, gave chase, and a bullet pierced his back.
A sharp pain shot through Nie Yan's back. So this was what being pierced by a bullet felt like—his heart gradually going numb. He could feel his life force rapidly draining from his body.
Was he about to die? But he smiled, laughed at how short life was, laughed at how he'd drifted through life in a fog, only to suddenly wake up as death came.
And so, tears streamed down his face.
His parents' deep grudge was settled, and scenes from the past flashed through his mind like a movie. The only thing Nie Yan was attached to in this world was that smile of hers, untouched by the slightest dust.
She was Nie Yan's high school classmate, now married to another man. But her pure, beautiful face was still etched in his heart, growing more unforgettable with time. He wondered how she would react when she heard the news that he and Cao Xu had perished together—would she sigh, or would she shed tears of sadness？
The sealed memories burst forth like a dam breaking, flooding his mind. He regretted so much—some things, by the time you understand them, it's already too late. In this life, he had too many regrets, too many unfulfilled wishes.
Nie Yan reached out, trying to grab something, but everything was slipping away. Life had reached its end, and ahead lay only eternal, silent darkness.
Remorse and frustration, like a sharp knife, kept slashing across his heart, the pain so unbearable he could barely contain himself.
What on earth did I do wrong in my past life to be punished and tormented like this by heaven！
Nie Yan's resentment blazed to the heavens; he couldn't accept it. He screamed hoarsely in the depths of his heart as tears streamed down.
Slowly, he didn't know how long had passed, Nie Yan's mind gradually calmed down.
His thoughts were still active, his mind still able to think. Was this death? Maybe this was my soul.
After a long while, a sense of touch returned to Nie Yan's fingers, and it felt so real. Why was I still conscious after so long? He sat up abruptly, looked around, and was at a loss.
Was this hell？
Nie Yan's dull eyes slowly regained focus. As he looked around, some old items came into view: a wooden bed, a chair, and a slightly worn floor.
Where is this？ Didn't I die？
It felt like a dream, with a sense of unreality. He touched the back of his heart; his hand was covered in a sticky liquid. He brought it in front of him and looked—there was no blood on his palm, only sweat. The clothes on his back were soaked through with sweat, which was why they felt damp.
What was going on？
Hadn't I lost a lot of blood? He vaguely remembered that blood, as red as wine, shimmering with a scarlet hue—the color of a life withering away.
Nie Yan pinched himself; he could still feel pain. This wasn't a dream. Could it be that those events of assassinating Cao Xu were nothing more than a dream？
Why was that place so real？
Like the ancient Zhuangzi muttering to himself upon waking from a dream, was I Zhuangzi who dreamed of a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming of Zhuangzi？
Which was reality, and which was the dream？
He looked around in confusion, filled with too many unanswered questions.
The dim light, a somewhat worn wooden bed, desk, and chair. On the wall, the clock his dad called an antique was ticking away; Nie Yan remembered it had never been accurate even once.
Memories, like an old photo album, slowly opened.
This place was so familiar—wasn't this the house he lived in during high school？
Sunlight streamed in through holes in the curtains, and the sharp pain from his pupils dilating violently under the rays gave him a piercing sense of reality.
I'm still alive. Nie Yan spread his right hand in front of him. The somewhat youthful hands were a sickly pallor.
“What’s wrong with me？ Am I the me from ten years ago, or the me from ten years later？” Nie Yan scratched his hair, utterly frustrated.
He sorted out his thoughts, and certain fragments of memory gradually became clearer.
This was the year he turned eighteen, the summer vacation of his sophomore year of high school. His parents weren't home, he had a fever of forty degrees Celsius, nearly died, and only barely managed to survive.
During that time, his parents left him some money and then disappeared without a word. They didn't come back for two or three months, and their phones couldn't be reached—it was as if they had vanished. Back then, he thought his parents had abandoned him. Fear, dread, terror—all these emotions clung to him, and on top of that, he caught a high fever, leaving a deep shadow in his heart. He became timid and withdrawn, a personality that didn't start to change until after he turned twenty-five.
Only when he grew up did he learn that his parents hadn't abandoned him—they had borrowed money from relatives and friends, and were running a smuggling business along the border. Back then, the country urgently needed a metal called Polonium, a critical strategic resource. Once nations discovered its uses, they quickly tightened exports and hoarded it. Nie Yan's parents somehow found a channel, collected the stuff, smuggled it back into the country, and the state bought it at hundreds of times the market price, netting them a huge fortune.
Those were tense times. Nie Yan's parents couldn't call him, and that business was a military secret—if it leaked out, it would be a death sentence. That's how the misunderstanding between Nie Yan and his parents took root. It wasn't until many years later, after everything had blown over, that his father finally told him the truth, and Nie Yan forgave them.
It was from that year on that his father used that first pot of gold to start a metal smelting company, landed several big deals, and saw the business skyrocket, pulling the family out of hardship. That's also when Nie Yan transferred to the city's elite school.
Did I really come back to that time？
Can everything really start over？
Joy and anxiety intertwined—Nie Yan couldn't describe how he felt, oscillating between hope and fear. He was terrified that all of this was just a dream.
Nie Yan got out of bed, pulled open the curtains. The blazing sun released its heat like flames, and that scorching sensation told him plainly that this was no dream.
Looking down, his textbooks were still laid out on the desk by the windowsill: Mechanical Theory, Automation Theory, Chinese, Advanced Math, Intelligent Programming Languages, and so on.
Nie Yan opened the book. The familiar, heartwarming words flowed like a clear spring, refreshing his heart and mind along with past memories. These textbooks were his lost youth. At the start of senior year, he transferred to a private school in the city. His father's successful career and abundant material conditions suddenly made him a rich second-generation aristocrat, and a lazy mindset took root. After senior year, his grades weren't good. Later, his father spent money to get him into a prestigious university, but until graduation, he hadn't learned much and spent his days idly doing nothing.
By the time he was twenty-five, his father's business was besieged by Cao Xu's Century Consortium. Several relatives and friends his father trusted were bribed by Cao Xu and betrayed him. The company suffered setback after setback, and the family was once again plunged into hardship. His father committed suicide by poison, and his mother, worn down by worry and illness, passed away in sorrow. After losing both parents, Nie Yan finally learned to strive for improvement, teaching himself many subjects. But by then, he had already missed too much.
Nie Yan once looked forward to carving out a place for himself, but how could Cao Xu allow his enemy's son to make a comeback？ With Cao Xu's interference, no company dared to hire Nie Yan, driving him into a dead end. If not for the scant income he earned from playing the virtual reality game Faith, he wouldn't even have been able to afford food.
Defeating Cao Xu with honor was hopeless. Even a rabbit will bite when cornered. Desperate and with no way out, Nie Yan ultimately chose to go down with Cao Xu. That gunshot vented all of Nie Yan's resentment.
Heaven's justice is clear. Cao Xu probably never expected he would end up like that.
Nie Yan thought he was dead, but who would have guessed that time played a joke on him—he had returned to the summer vacation before his senior year of high school.
Even though he couldn't get in touch with his parents, Nie Yan could be sure they were both still alive. Every time he thought about it, tears would fill his eyes.
In his past life, he wanted to care for his parents but they were already gone. The bitterness in Nie Yan's heart was something no one else could understand.
Heaven gave him another chance, and he would absolutely not muddle through life again.
His father and mother wouldn't be back for over twenty days, and it was summer break, so he could only stay home alone.
Since the second half of my sophomore year in high school, I remember it wasn't long after the virtual reality game Conviction had just launched." Nie Yan clearly remembered the explosive scene when Conviction launched, with countless conglomerates pouring in. It was precisely because of the massive capital injected by these conglomerates, driving large-scale development of Conviction, that it truly became the second world for humanity."
He had only entered Conviction later, after transferring to an elite school and spending over a semester there, when a close friend introduced him to it. But by then, many players were already at high levels, and he had missed the best leveling time, so he could only scramble to catch up.
Pages of memory were being recolored, vibrant and colorful. Those times in the game were the most unforgettable in his life; he had made many friends. Because of them, his lonely days weren't too dull.
Before killing Cao Xu, Nie Yan was a great thief over level 180. Though not quite top-tier, he could still barely be considered among the ranks of the strong.
Nie Yan suddenly remembered that there was a bank card in his drawer — that was his entire savings.
“I can afford a helmet now.” Nie Yan thought to himself as he pulled open a drawer and rummaged through it. Finally, he found the silver-white bank card in a corner. If his memory was correct, it held two thousand credit points, with one credit point being one yuan. That was money he had scrimped and saved over several years. Back then, he had wanted to buy the most advanced X3 computer, but in just a few years, before he could save up enough, the X3 had become obsolete. Of course, later, after his father's career took off, his allowance was much more than that. Because his father wanted to make it up to Nie Yan and granted almost all his wishes, Nie Yan could basically buy whatever he wanted.
Eighteen-year-old Nie Yan, yet with a twenty-eight-year-old soul, everything started over again, and life turned a new page. Without enough capital, there was nothing he could do. So let it start from the game. With his past gaming experience, making some money as a professional player should be easy enough.
He remembered that when the Faith game helmets first went on sale, they were very cheap to encourage widespread adoption. There were three models, A, B, and C, each with different configurations. The level of virtual immersion ranged from 76% to 98%. The cheapest model, the C-type, only cost 1,300 credit points. With Nie Yan's current savings, he could afford the lowest-tier helmet.
He remembered many things about the game clearly. If he started over again, it wouldn't be hard to make a name for himself.
Putting the bank card into his pocket, Nie Yan's gaze fell on the advanced mathematics textbook beside him. As if guided by fate, he picked up the book and shook it. A crisp, new hundred-yuan banknote fluttered down. Some memories resurfaced in his mind.
It suddenly occurred to him that his first meeting with Xie Yao was today. It all started with him taking this hundred yuan to go out and buy medicine at the pharmacy.
Xie Yao was his deskmate in senior year of high school, and also the class beauty. Those painful memories of the past that make one sigh in regret. Ten years later, Xie Yao fell in love with Liu Rui, the recognized gifted scholar of their class, and the two moved to the moon. Later, after a few phone calls with Xie Yao, Nie Yan learned that she was not happy at all. When they talked about high school, they could not help but sigh with emotion.
If he had been braver back then, if he hadn't been so timid and insecure in front of Xie Yao, perhaps he wouldn't have missed his chance.
Sometimes, a single turn can mean a lifetime apart, turning into an irreparable regret.
Xie Yao used to love wearing white dresses, beautiful and pure. Her image was always deeply engraved in Nie Yan's heart, that melancholic longing, like the sound of a flute at dusk—far-reaching and tranquil.
Nie Yan glanced at the rather shabby pendulum clock. The hour hand was at three o'clock—he should still make it in time. He grabbed the bill and raced downstairs.
They lived in the suburbs, a desolate place. The dilapidated road was not wide, and when the wind blew, it kicked up a lot of dust. Plenty of trees lined both sides, still lush under the scorching sun, casting patches of green shade on the ground.
The afternoon weather was scorching hot, with few pedestrians and hardly any cars. Occasionally, a hovercar or two would pass by.
In his past life, Nie Yan hated this city, but after being reborn, seeing this desolate place again, he didn't feel disgust at all; instead, it felt so familiar and dear—this was where he had lived for eighteen years.
Nie Yan's timid personality before twenty-five was not unrelated to his subsequent living environment. An unruly kid from a small city, suddenly thrust into an aristocratic school in a big city because his family got rich overnight. His grades, which were considered excellent in his sophomore and junior years, were now at the bottom, and he was often mocked for having no fashion sense. Coupled with things that happened during the summer break, he lacked a sense of security, leaving psychological scars. In the new environment, he became even more fearful and inferior, feeling out of place everywhere. If it weren't for meeting a few close friends, he might have broken down mentally.
He never expected that after an entire lifetime, he would end up back at the starting point. Nie Yan would never be the same as in his past life.
He sprinted all the way toward the pharmacy.
The buildings around were somewhat shabby, and the streets were desolate. As urbanization accelerated, people from small cities like this flocked to the big ones, leaving vast areas of small cities abandoned. The population kept shrinking, and in about a hundred years, this place would be demolished and turned back into fields.
"That's the school, and this is the supermarket." As an old horse knows the way, seeing these familiar buildings lifted Nie Yan's spirits. "I'm back. I'm really back！"
He used to always resent the unfairness of fate, but now, he had to thank the heavens above.
I want a do-over！ A proper one！ Nie Yan couldn't help but want to shout, venting the surging emotions in his heart.