A Figure in the Rain

Heavy leaden clouds filled the horizon. The ceaseless rain was like the sky's sorrow, dripping, dripping, falling and splashing before gathering in rivulets across the ground. The trickles grew into streams, gradually reaching the edge of sight.

Gray steel and concrete stretched high above, with iron towers standing like enormous monsters. Thick drainage pipes crisscrossed the area. This was a world shrouded in rain, a world dim and lacking in light. The people who lived here had never seen the bright beauty of sunlight. A rainbow was something that existed only in their dreams and wildest hopes.

Beneath a dilapidated building, a small figure huddled in a corner. The structure overhead kept off the rain, forming a curtain of water in front of him and sheltering a small patch of dry ground. The area was less than two meters across, but to the little figure, it was already a rare luxury. After nearly a full day of trudging through the rain, finding a place to shelter so close to nightfall was extremely fortunate. And when he had arrived, he had even stumbled upon an unexpected bonus.

"Ah, when will these days ever end?"

A childish sigh rang out, carrying a deep, helpless resignation that clashed with the clear, youthful voice. But what was even more incongruous was the thing dangling from the little figure's hand. After sighing, he gave it a shake. It was a rat more than half a foot long, nearly as big as his arm. The rat was already dead. He held it by the tail, its body hanging upside down, its long, pale incisors bared in a way that sent a chill through anyone who saw them. Blood still trickled from the corners of its mouth, only to be swept away by the rain and splashed onto the ground. A small red stain had barely appeared before the unrelenting downpour washed it away.

The light was faint, but it barely illuminated the pale face beneath the curtain of rain. The figure was a child who looked only three or four years old. He was thin and frail, his skin pallid and bloodless, as if he had been soaking in water for a long time. A loose shirt engulfed his small body. Its cut made it obvious that it belonged to an adult. For a child less than a meter tall, even if his head were the only part showing, he had to clutch the hem to keep it from dragging on the ground. As for pants, there was no point in even thinking about them.

Long-term malnutrition had left Yuehua Ai thinner and more frail than other children his age. Though he was already four, he looked no different from an ordinary three-year-old.

His resolute brows, high nose, thin red lips, and pair of eyes bright as stars, with pupils black as gemstones, all came together perfectly on his face. His lips were lightly pressed together, hinting at a defiant stubbornness. His cool expression and raised brows gave him a lazy, unconcerned air. His black hair hung damply down his back. All in all, he really was an adorable child. Just one look at his face could make someone feel fond of him and want to protect him. Unfortunately, this was a time of war. Everyone was looking out for themselves, with no time to spare for a child like him. So seeing Yuehua Ai's slight frame against the gloomy backdrop only made him seem all the more pitiful.

"Heh, you little rat dared to assassinate me? Good thing your big brother was on guard, or you really might've bitten me!" Yuehua Ai's eyes narrowed as he chuckled softly, looking utterly delighted and childlike. He held the rat by its long tail and swung it through the air like a pendulum.

"If you'd just run away, your big brother wouldn't have been able to do a thing to you. But you didn't get far, and you even had the nerve to turn around and taunt me. Asking for it, weren't you? Didn't you know I had a secret weapon by my side? Now you can be my extra meal, hahaha!"

Yuehua Ai glanced at the ruins of the nearby houses. The remnants of numerous buildings were scattered and piled up around him, and plenty of chunks of concrete and bricks lay within easy reach. A few meters away, he spotted a fist-sized stone on the ground, and his smile grew even wider. That was the "secret weapon" he had mentioned. It was what had stopped the huge rat in its tracks, allowing Yuehua Ai to catch it. Then the little brat had swung his arm and thrown it in a move worthy of the Eighteen Dragon-Slaying Palms, beating it to death.

Yuehua Ai set the rat on the ground, then took a small piece of wire from his pocket. He lifted the hem of his clothes and tucked it up, then crouched down, revealing a pair of little feet wrapped in thick strips of cloth.

He shuffled forward a step and rinsed the rat several times in the rain. Then he picked up the wire and jabbed one end into its body. The first thing he did was skin it. He hadn't been joking about making it a meal. As an orphan in the middle of a war, this was the only way to survive.

With no way to make a fire, Yuehua Ai had to handle it as carefully as possible. He was simply too young, and his body couldn't withstand any more strain. Even a minor virus or bacteria causing a cold might take his life. Yuehua Ai knew his own condition better than anyone. After all, in his previous life, he had made considerable achievements in medicine and biology.

Lu Beichen had been Yuehua Ai's name in his previous life, but to him now, it already felt like a distant name.

Like the North Star, eternal and everlasting. There was nothing wrong with the meaning behind Lu Beichen's name. Unfortunately, a person's life didn't follow the meaning of his name. Lu Beichen had neither eternity nor everlasting life.

Because of a genetic disease, Yuehua Ai's previous life as Lu Beichen had been sentenced to death by doctors when he was very young. Modern medicine was still far from being able to cure a disease at the genetic level. His parents had taken him all over the country, but the doctors' verdict never changed: "Your child probably won't live to adulthood!" The words sounded less like a diagnosis and more like a curse, hanging over Lu Beichen's head ever since.

After years of seeking treatment without success and finding no hope, Lu Beichen's parents eventually gave up. Then Lu Beichen had a younger brother. Unlike his older brother, the boy was healthy, and very fortunate.

Naturally, the family's focus shifted to the younger brother. Lu Beichen held no resentment over it. On the contrary, he was relieved and grateful. It helped ease many of the burdens weighing on his heart.

Because of his illness, Lu Beichen had suffered from a young age, and he was far more mature than children his age. He wasn't someone who gave up hope easily. If no one else could cure his illness, then he would do it himself. At just six years old, Lu Beichen had already found the goal he would pursue for the rest of his life. Under the pressure of death, he seemed to mature overnight.

He started with the basics. At first, his family had to help him study because he struggled with things like recognizing characters. But as time passed, Lu Beichen's studies became more independent and more advanced. His family had to work to make a living, so the help they gave him gradually shifted to emotional support.

Year after year, his illness grew worse, but Lu Beichen's knowledge grew deeper. He studied both traditional and Western medicine in depth, and his achievements in fields such as cell engineering and genetic engineering were among the best in the world when it came to research and invention.

At sixteen, he finally developed a drug that could suppress his genetic disease. Though he still couldn't cure it completely, he had managed to halt its progression. But fate was merciless. Just as Lu Beichen's condition began to improve, he noticed something wrong with his body: bone marrow cancer, a terminal disease caused by his genetic defect. Yet another devastating blow landed on his head.

When it rained, it poured. It would have been impossible not to feel pain. After a period of despair, Lu Beichen faced the challenge once more. If he could overcome one terminal illness, surely he could conquer a second. As long as he was still alive, anything was possible. He wasn't someone who gave up easily.

As he continued to fight his illness, Lu Beichen studied his own cancerous cells, as well as various other viruses and bacteria. When he was twenty, he successfully developed a cell-reversion technology.

Among the technologies Lu Beichen had developed and the global problems he had solved in medicine and biology, cell-reversion technology was the achievement he was proudest of.

Using viruses as a template and adapting their ability to multiply without limit, he successfully cultivated a new type of cell that could induce highly differentiated cells to revert to pluripotent stem cells. This was the core of the early cell-reversion process. In theory, it could potentially cure every incurable disease, and it had also given his own condition a glimmer of hope.

Unfortunately, although the reversion technology was theoretically viable, it still had many practical flaws. The biggest problem was that the reversion couldn't be controlled. Once the reversion cells were implanted, diseased and cancerous cells would indeed be reverted and redifferentiate, but healthy cells would also be consumed and forcibly induced to revert. The cells' information would continually revert, causing the user to grow younger and younger, eventually becoming a child and, ultimately, an embryo. This process would overturn not only the body but also the user's memories, which would regress along with it.

Reversion technology could make people young again, and in theory, could even make them immortal. But that would only be possible if the reversion cells could recognize their targets and stop when needed. As things stood, they were still far from capable of that. They couldn't even improve Lu Beichen's condition.

Perfecting the cell-reversion technology meant finding the genetic information that stopped cell differentiation among countless gene fragments and base sequences. Finding a specific functional base sequence in that vast array was like searching for a needle in the ocean. It would take an immense amount of time, and time was exactly what Lu Beichen lacked.

After four years of work, Lu Beichen finally perfected the cell-reversion technology. But when it came to saving himself, he had failed.

After testing countless base sequences, he had already found the fragments he needed. During that time, he had even discovered countless other information chains, each with its own function. But he no longer had time to perfect the technology he had developed with so much effort. His body's ability to produce blood and the function of his organs were both nearing a halt. Not even external medical machines could help him.

At the very end of his life, Lu Beichen seemed to let go of all his regrets and suddenly felt at ease. Though he ultimately hadn't managed to save his own life, he had at least fought, and he had seen a glimmer of hope that fate could be changed.

On a rainy night, an unnatural red glow hung in the sky. The wind was light, and rain pattered steadily down. Lu Beichen sat in his wheelchair alone on the balcony. He had loved the rain since childhood. The stillness that came with it could cleanse the soul, and he loved that quiet.

Was Heaven crying for me too? At the final moment of his life, he felt happy and content. The scent of rain made him feel warm.

Just as his consciousness was about to fade, a gigantic dragon of lightning tore across the sky, followed by a thunderclap that shook the heavens. His last memory of Earth was that streak of white lightning, that radiance filling the sky.

He didn't know how long had passed when he finally regained consciousness. Lu Beichen discovered that he had become a baby, and that he was in a region torn apart by war. His parents had died amid the chaos and explosions, but Lu Beichen, still swaddled in his blanket, had survived. An old man fleeing the conflict found him and carried him away. For the next four years, the old man fled from place to place and begged for food, while Lu Beichen survived tenaciously under his care. He had also been given a new name: Yuehua Ai.

"What a pity..." Thinking of the old man, who had fallen ill and died while they were fleeing a few months ago, Yuehua Ai sighed softly. He was deeply grateful to him. Without the old man's care, he never would have survived from infancy to the present. He felt a little sad about the old man's death, but not overwhelmingly so. In a life of war where death could come at any moment, wasn't it sometimes a kind of release?

"Honestly, rainy days really do make a person sentimental. Sigh, I'm starting to hate the rain." Yuehua Ai stood up, shook his head, and stretched his legs, which had gone numb from crouching for so long.

Looking at the cleaned rat meat in his hand, Yuehua Ai furrowed his brows. His little face was filled with misery as he wavered between eating it and not eating it. At last, he tilted his head back helplessly and muttered to himself, "I'm just a kid! Why am I being forced to make such a difficult choice?"

"Sigh, I'm really running out of food!" Lowering his head again, he shook the water from his hand and took two steps back until he reached the corner. Yuehua Ai's little brows knitted together into a deep frown.

"Phew." He let out a breath and reached into his pocket, taking out a small biscuit wrapped in waxed paper.

"It's the last one. Damn it!" Little Yuehua Ai grumbled as he put the last biscuit into his mouth. He used his tongue to dissolve it little by little, savoring it for a while before swallowing. That packet of biscuits had been his biggest find in days. They had gotten a little damp, but they still tasted good. Unfortunately, there were none left.

Yuehua Ai wrapped the rat meat tightly in the paper that had held the biscuit, then put it in his pocket. The habits he had developed in his previous life were deeply ingrained, and he still couldn't bring himself to eat the rat meat.

I wonder if I'll find a settlement tomorrow. If I don't... sigh, poor rat. Poor me!

Little Yuehua Ai murmured to himself as he curled up in the corner. Although night had only just fallen, he had to sleep. He needed to move as little as possible to conserve his energy. He still had to travel tomorrow, and he had already fallen a long way behind the groups of refugees.

The patter of rain grew clearer in the dark night. In this place, amid the shadows of those ruins, who would have imagined—or cared—that a small figure was there?