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Yet after more than a decade of finally emerging from hardship, after more than a decade in which Tang Shi and his mother had struggled until they finally had enough means to relax and catch their breath, Tang Shi had returned to more than ten years ago without any warning. He had returned to the most difficult and miserable years of his life. It had to be said that fate was playing a cruel joke on him. Of course, if one were truly resolute and optimistic, one could also see it as the beginning of a new life.

After all, life was not a novel. Having finally gotten his life on track, only to be knocked over by another wave from fate and forced to start again—this was not a life every protagonist would choose.

☆, Chapter Two

Once again realizing that this survival game, which he had fought so hard to overcome, truly had to be restarted from scratch, Tang Shi could not help shaking his head and sighing. Mother Tang, who was stir-frying at the stove, heard the sound behind her. When she turned around, she saw her precious son's face full of misery. Without any surprise, she continued scrubbing the wok and casually asked, "What, did you do badly on another test?"

Tang Shi froze slightly. The more than ten years of memories that had suddenly appeared in his mind left him unable to respond to such a simple, ordinary question. Yet in Mother Tang's eyes, his silence was an answer clear enough.

She sighed helplessly. Her hopes that her son would achieve greatness made her deeply disappointed by Tang Shi's steadily worsening test scores. Yet the indulgence of a single mother, along with the fact that the boy's father had only recently died, made her unwilling to put too much pressure on her son. Life already held enough hardships. If his mother pressured him too, she feared his small shoulders would not be able to bear such heavy expectations.

Like most gentle, loving mothers, Mother Tang had always been open-minded and strong, and she spoiled her son terribly. This strict-father, kind-mother style of upbringing was practically part of the local customs in this old, peaceful little town. In the distant, hazy memories of the townspeople, there was often such a scene: the father at home brandishing a broom, yelling and trying to beat the child; the mother in an apron shielding her young son behind her, chin raised and hands on her hips, standing like a plump teapot as she pointed at her husband's nose and shouted back, "If you dare lay a finger on my son, then I'll..."

Together with the grandparents, maternal grandparents, neighbors, and friends trying to talk them down, a severe beating would often end up with lots of thunder but very little rain.

In Tang Shi's memory, Mother Tang had been just such a mother, one who loved her son without principles. She had almost never said no to any of Tang Shi's requests. Even many years later, when Tang Shi grew tired of the daily nine-to-five routine, willfully quit a stable but unpromising job, and prepared to return home to write, Mother Tang had supported and encouraged him with all her strength. She had even given him money for living expenses and rent, helping Tang Shi survive the hardest period after quitting his job to write full-time.

Simply put, this was a tiny family made up of a shrewd mother and an innocent son. Because of his mother's indulgence, all the pressures of life had been handled by her over the years, while her son lived freely and as he pleased.

And because of that, Tang Shi had developed a somewhat weak and easygoing, naïve personality.

Fortunately, Tang Shi had never felt there was anything wrong with either his personality or his life. To be honest, he had greatly enjoyed his life before being reborn. Because of his grades, he had failed to get into a top-tier university, or even an undergraduate program, and had attended a junior college instead. Nor had he found any particularly respectable or glamorous job after graduation. But the royalties he earned were enough to support both himself and his mother. Later, through his brother Lu Hengzhi's connections, one of his published novels had fortunately been adapted into a television drama. He had then gradually entered the screenwriting circle, occasionally helping write a script or two, and earned considerably more money.

He could originally have continued living such a peaceful, leisurely life. Every year, he would write for ten months, then spend the other two traveling with his mother, gathering inspiration and changing his mood before returning to write and earn money. Occasionally, his mother's friends or family relatives would drag him off on blind dates. If he met someone suitable, they would date for a while; if they got along well, they would discuss marriage, and if not, they would part ways. He would probably drift along like that until his thirties, marry, have children, and continue being a good father and husband.

What a carefree life.

Unfortunately, that dream would have to be postponed for at least another twenty years before it could come true. He truly did not know whether it was fate's trickery or time reversing itself, but he had somehow returned to the age of sixteen, back to the high school years he least wanted to remember. Every day, he had to get up early and stay up late for school, with no long weekends and no sleeping in. All kinds of test papers filled his heavy schoolbag and his muddled mind.

There was also that dance competition which had nearly ruined his healthy body and brought a turning point in his fate, as well as the bleak college entrance examination two years later. Just thinking about it made Tang Shi feel as if his head were splitting, while his knees began to ache faintly. He almost wished he could die again.

Song Chunyi poured the finished sweet-and-sour ribs onto a plate, turned and set the plate on the cutting board, then turned back to wash the wok. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Tang Shi, who had been standing silently at the kitchen door like a post. Song Chunyi leaned back and tilted her head, looking past Tang Shi at the quartz clock on the living room wall. It was almost seven-thirty in the evening. This boy had come home late, had not even called out for dinner, and was standing there looking utterly lost...

Song Chunyi blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Why did you come back so late today? Did your teacher keep you behind for another talk after school?"

At those words, Tang Shi immediately looked embarrassed. He instantly remembered how often he had been kept after class by teachers in high school—another reason he disliked high school life.

Of course, no teacher had kept him behind tonight. He had only returned so late because a soul from more than ten years in the future was unfamiliar with the city from over a decade ago, and he had wandered around the crisscrossing alleys a few extra times. But he obviously could not give Mother Tang that explanation. So Tang Shi could only give a vague response. Then Song Chunyi continued, "Your midterm results are out, right? How many points did you get?"

Tang Shi's expression became even more conflicted. He had no idea when he had taken an exam, much less how many points he had scored. After more than ten years, who could remember such trivial details?

Tang Shi did not answer Song Chunyi's question. Instead, he turned and walked into the living room, opened his schoolbag and dumped out all his books and textbooks. In a fluster, he spread a stack of test papers across the table. After silently calculating his scores, he called toward the kitchen, "Four hundred and eighty-two points."

Song Chunyi gave an acknowledging hum in the kitchen and casually asked, "What rank are you in the school? What about your class?"

Tang Shi's inner turmoil was beyond words. His facial muscles twisted as he pondered for a long while before finally saying directly, "The rankings aren't out yet. Only the scores have been released."

That was perfectly normal. After Mother Tang finished washing the wok, she casually made an egg and cucumber soup. Only then did she carry the garlic fish and soup bowl into the living room. She instructed Tang Shi, "Go bring out the ribs from the kitchen."

Tang Shi answered and darted into the kitchen. After all that fuss, he truly was a little hungry.

Mother Tang set out bowls and served rice in the living room. Her gaze inevitably fell on the pile of books Tang Shi had dumped onto the sofa, as well as the two martial arts novels among them, which stood out glaringly in both size and cover design. Song Chunyi's eyes narrowed slightly as she said to Tang Shi as if nothing were wrong, "I knew it. If you'd done well, you wouldn't be looking so wilted."

Tang Shi gave a thick-skinned, foolish grin.

Mother Tang paused, then added, "You're in high school now. The coursework is heavy, so stop reading extracurricular books from now on."

Tang Shi was taken aback. His gaze unconsciously swept over the two martial arts novels on the sofa, and then he answered crisply. This earned him a deeply distrustful glance from Song Chunyi. Song Chunyi looked Tang Shi up and down, her lips moving slightly. In the end, she merely said, "You answered readily enough. What matters is whether you can do it. Hurry up and eat. Once you're done, get to your room and do your homework."

Feeling Mother Tang's distrust, Tang Shi somewhat awkwardly rubbed the tip of his nose. He set the ribs on the table, sat down, and began to eat. The moment he picked up his bowl and chopsticks, Mother Tang tapped him with her own chopsticks and asked, "Did you wash your hands when you got back?"

Tang Shi drew back his hand and got up to wash them in the kitchen. Living conditions were not good in those days, especially in the old single-story house he rented with Mother Tang. There was no such thing as a washroom. Everyone washed their faces, brushed their teeth, and even bathed in the kitchen. Individual homes had no toilets at all. The only public restroom stood by the street outside the entrance to the alley.

At night, once the courtyard gate was locked and no one wanted to go out to use the toilet, every household kept a chamber pot at home, lined it with a plastic bag, and threw it out with the trash the next morning. Such harsh living conditions made Tang Shi, whose memories were gradually returning, feel exceptionally uncomfortable. The more he thought about it, the less appetite he had.

Mother Tang watched coldly as her son dawdled for more than half an hour without finishing the rice in his bowl. He had barely touched the ribs and fish on the plates, as though he were sulking. Her face darkened as she said, "Don't act up with me. I'm only stopping you from reading extracurricular books for your own good. Look how far your grades have fallen. You did quite well in middle school and even got into a key high school. But the moment you entered high school, your grades plummeted. Your teachers told me about it back then. They said you never paid attention in class, always fiddling around under your desk, making little movements, reading extracurricular books, and not doing your homework properly. I know it's because of your father..."

Tang Shi listened to Mother Tang's stream of nagging, head lowered as he quietly ate. During the six years of middle and high school, he had heard this sort of nagging so often it was practically an old refrain. Before, it had been his father who nagged at him, but after his father was gone, only Mother Tang was left to say a few words.

And after Tang Shi graduated from high school, went to college, then stumbled into society and started working, this kind of detailed, trivial nagging had grown increasingly rare.

That was what growing up was like. Once the people around you unanimously decided that you had become an adult, no one would nag you over every little thing anymore. And when you made mistakes, whether deliberately or carelessly, no one would forgive and excuse you unconditionally either. The more mature one's heart became, the more serious the life one had to face. Life on a university campus was the final indulgence of youthful passion. After that, newcomers entered society, where office politics, scheming, and deception exhausted them as they resorted to every trick imaginable for a little promotion or raise. The sorrow of growing up lay not only in the loss of innocence and beauty, but also in the increasing sophistication and darkness within.

Tang Shi was unsuited to that crowded, complicated society, so he quit his job and went home, beginning a simpler life. The reason he had been able to make that transition so rashly and smoothly was, ultimately, that he had a good mother and a good brother who supported him wholeheartedly and without conditions. Those two people had also become the only two in Tang Shi's life who, no matter when or where, could nag and complain with their mouths while always supporting him through their actions.

That kind of nagging was warm and happy.

☆, Chapter Three

In truth, every parent shared the same attitude when it came to opposing their children reading extracurricular books and zoning out in class. But unlike parents in other families who readily beat and scolded their children, Mother Tang's opposition was limited to repeated warnings and verbal instruction. She had never been willing to lay a hand on Tang Shi. Thus, in the eyes of the teenage Tang Shi, Mother Tang's opposition did not seem very intense. He always clung to a trace of luck and recklessly squandered Mother Tang's love and indulgence, secretly reading novels openly and behind her back.

At the time, he thought he had hidden it very well. He did not know that after he fell asleep, Mother Tang would always quietly enter his room to tidy his schoolbag, tuck in his blanket, and check beneath Tang Shi's bed, blanket, and pillow. Without exception, she would find one or two extracurricular books.

What Tang Shi did not know was that Mother Tang's expectations for her son had also gradually been worn away by this day-after-day tug-of-war and his ever-lower test scores.