In his second life, Xiao Heng was once again born into an ordinary world. This time, however, he was the son of a wealthy family, and his mother was a high-ranking official.
From childhood, he stood in a place others might never reach in their entire lives. Then came a political marriage, the inheritance of the family business, a life that seemed magnificent in the eyes of others, and finally, death.
In this life, Xiao Heng enjoyed everything. Much of the darkness in his heart was unleashed. He might have been a successful businessman, but he was certainly not a good man. Still, he died of old age.
In his third life, it was another ordinary world. But this time, he had lost everything from the moment he was born—his parents, his family, everything. If not for an old beggar taking pity on him, he would have died.
He grew up frail and lame in one leg. Having received no education, he survived each day by scavenging through rubbish, becoming a little beggar.
"Old man, why do you think I was born? This world is so bitter. I don't want to make a sound. If there really is another life, I don't want to come back."
Inside a shabby room, the little beggar wore a bitter expression. His face was sallow as he dragged his lame leg and asked the old beggar.
The old beggar pondered for a while, then shook his head. "How would I know? Maybe those so-called gods deliberately threw us into this world to suffer! Bah, bullshit! All I want is a hot meal. This damned world won't leave us any way to live."
Xiao Heng nodded, seeming even more despairing. And in this world, misfortune always seemed to fall upon those already burdened by sorrow.