Chapter 5: Liu Kuo: Zhou Zhuoyuan habitually shifts his own faults onto…

Because he was reasonably smart and sufficiently diligent, Zhou Zhuoyuan’s grades could be described as top of the class. If he could take the Gaokao under normal circumstances, he was extremely likely to get into the best university in their province.

This had also been his dream during high school, but it wasn’t anymore. Now, he preferred heading to the Capital City or even farther away.

After five years without touching a textbook, Zhou Zhuoyuan felt a bit uneasy. He had no idea how long it would take him to catch up to his previous level. Afraid that too much regression would arouse suspicion, he had unthinkingly made up an excuse to skip this mock exam.

Fortunately, he had studied diligently in the past, so the teacher didn’t doubt the truth of the matter at all. Upon hearing that he had just arrived at school and been admitted to the School Infirmary with a fever, the teacher even came to comfort him, telling him not to put so much pressure on himself and that it was fine to take a few more days off.

Zhou Zhuoyuan felt deeply embarrassed and repeatedly assured the teacher that he would pay attention to his health and make sure to get adequate rest every day.

The next day at noon, He Qinglan came to pick him up and take him back to the dormitory, carrying the medicine the doctor had prescribed for him. The two walked side by side along a small path on campus, with the crisp laughter of girls occasionally drifting by, along with the energetic shouts of boys on the Basketball Court.

A breeze carrying a hint of coolness blew past, and Zhou Zhuoyuan suddenly felt a sense of clarity in his heart. Only then did he truly feel like he had returned to his teenage years.

“Does your hand still hurt?” He Qinglan asked.

Zhou Zhuoyuan knew he was referring to the hand from which the IV needle had been removed, which was now slightly bruised. It didn’t hurt much unless touched, so he answered honestly, “It doesn’t hurt. It’s like a mosquito bite.”

“That’s good.”

“You’ve gone to so much trouble for me these past couple of days. Let me treat you to a meal,” he said with a smile. “You pick the place.”

He Qinglan knew he didn’t want to owe anyone any favors, so he didn’t stand on ceremony and chose a stir-fry restaurant near the school.

A lot of students came to eat at noon, so they had to wait at the door for a bit before a table opened up. The food arrived quickly, though. He Qinglan rolled up his sleeves and poured Zhou Zhuoyuan a glass of fruit juice. “Guan Qi originally wanted to come, but the teacher called him away. He asked me to pass along a message: wait for him to get back, and he’ll explain everything to you.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t want to say something childish like he was cutting ties with Guan Qi, so he just hummed in acknowledgment. “I haven’t been to this place before. The food’s pretty good.”

He ate a piece of Kung Pao Shrimp Balls. The shrimp balls had firm, tight meat, and each one was evenly coated in sauce. Kung Pao Shrimp Balls were a Sichuan dish, but they weren’t really spicy—just a bit sour and sweet.

“It’s new this year, so it’s normal you haven’t been here,” He Qinglan explained with a smile. “Can you handle spicy food? There’s also a great Hunan Cuisine Restaurant near the school. Next time, I’ll treat you.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan was in the middle of stuffing food into his mouth, so he hurriedly mumbled in agreement, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can handle spicy food just fine.”

It had been a long time since he’d eaten something so perfectly to his taste. Before his rebirth, he hadn’t been willing to splurge on it; after his rebirth, every meal at the Zhou Family had been utterly tasteless to him. All the Zhou Family’s dishes had to cater to Zhou Zhuoyi’s preferences, so they were all very bland. Zhou Zhuoyuan had always preferred bold flavors since he was a kid, and he had no idea how he’d survived those years at the Zhou Family.

He ate with such focus that it whetted He Qinglan’s appetite too—he ended up eating half a bowl more rice than usual.

As they were finishing up, a commotion erupted at the door. A group of boys with earrings came in laughing and horsing around. Zhou Zhuoyuan heard the noise and glanced up, only to spot a few familiar faces.

Liu Kuo was leading the pack, his deep red hair wildly flamboyant. It stood out even among these teens in their outlandish outfits. He had half a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he grinned, though there wasn’t much mirth in his eyes.

These were the guys who had beaten him up five years ago. Zhou Zhuoyuan gripped his chopsticks tightly. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t have spilled the truth so quickly, and Zhou Zhuoyi wouldn’t have died.

That day had been Zhou Zhuoyi’s birthday. Uncle Driver had arrived more than ten minutes late for some reason, and Zhou Zhuoyuan had grown impatient waiting. He decided to head to the bookstore to kill some time. As he passed through a narrow alley, he collided head-on with Liu Kuo.

He and Liu Kuo had gone to the same junior high. They’d clashed a few times over various things, which led to Liu Kuo nursing a one-sided grudge against Zhou Zhuoyuan. But Liu Kuo hadn’t gotten the upper hand before high school.

After starting high school, Zhou Zhuoyuan had grown even more withdrawn, while Liu Kuo failed to get in at all and became the boss of a gang of delinquents on the streets. So when they ran into each other by chance, Liu Kuo seized the opportunity and had his little brothers give Zhou Zhuoyuan a thorough beating.

Uncle Driver finally showed up late and scared the group off. He panicked at the sight of Zhou Zhuoyuan covered in mud and water.

In truth, Zhou Zhuoyuan getting beaten was no big deal—at worst, Uncle Driver would get docked some pay for negligence. But if Little Yi found out and had a heart attack, that would be disastrous. Uncle Driver had been driving Little Yi for ten years by then and had long come to see him as half his own child.

Fortunately, Zhou Zhuoyuan had kept his head protected the whole time he was getting beaten, so his face was unscathed. At the driver’s earnest pleading, he went to a bathhouse, showered, and changed into a clean set of clothes before heading home.

A fire was already smoldering in Zhou Zhuoyuan’s chest. When he got back, he found his family had already finished dinner and were gathered in the living room, chatting animatedly around Zhou Zhuoyi. Everyone’s faces glowed with happy smiles.

But the moment they spotted him, the cheerful atmosphere froze solid.

Zhou Fuxuan furrowed his brow—that was his usual expression whenever he looked at Zhou Zhuoyuan. Without pausing for breath, he launched into criticism. “I told you your little brother has a birthday tonight and to come home early. Where the hell have you been screwing around?”

The taut string in Zhou Zhuoyuan’s mind snapped instantly.

What bullshit little brother. What bullshit family.

They could all go to hell.

Zhou Zhuoyuan actually had a habit of shoving the blame for his own screw-ups onto others.

He decided Liu Kuo was the root of it all, and his hatred for the guy boiled over. The surging rage nearly robbed him of his reason right then and there. If He Qinglan hadn’t been with him, he might have found a way to take them all down with him.

But he wasn’t the only one pissed at Liu Kuo right now.

Ordinary students at the Key Middle School had never had much tolerance for punks like that bunch, especially when the stench of their cigarettes was choking everyone around them. A girl at the next table finally couldn’t hold back. “Those guys have zero manners.”

Liu Kuo overheard her. He narrowed his eyes and shot her a look, and one of his lackeys immediately stormed over, bristling with menace. “What’d you say? Say it again if you’ve got the guts!”

It was the age of hot-blooded youth, and the girl wasn’t about to back down. She lifted her head and glared right back at them. “I said you—”

Zhou Zhuoyuan cut her off before she could finish. “She said you have no manners smoking in public!”

Liu Kuo seemed to notice him for the first time, his gaze turning even icier than before.

The lackey’s attention whipped around. “Oh ho, we’ve got ourselves a wannabe hero saving the damsel.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan shot to his feet, facing him down. “You read too many wuxia novels or what? Hero saving the beauty? She just stated a fact. What’s there to save her from? Ask everyone here—who wants to breathe your secondhand smoke? You guys get your kicks puffing away, but everyone else’s health doesn’t matter?”

Most of the diners were students, brimming with that restless sense of justice. Stirred up by Zhou Zhuoyuan’s words, they chimed in with support, telling the punks to take their smoking outside if they had to— this was a place for eating.

Liu Kuo reined in his lackey before things could escalate further. He didn’t say a word, just turned and left. But that final glance he threw Zhou Zhuoyuan’s way was venomous.

Zhou Zhuoyuan couldn’t have cared less. The bad blood between him and Liu Kuo went way back; this was just another drop in the bucket.

The girl at the next table had no idea about any of that. Bursting with gratitude, she eagerly added him on WeChat and insisted on treating him to milk tea. After a bit of chatting, she realized they were in the same class. Her name was He Tiaosheng—lively and outgoing, with great popularity in the class. Strangely, Zhou Zhuoyuan had zero recollection of her.

He didn’t dwell on it. There were too many classmates to keep track of everyone, and even though He Tiaosheng wasn’t the quiet type, given his state five years ago, it was perfectly normal not to have interacted with or remembered someone like her.

Back at the dorm, they found their other roommate napping, so they both moved quietly to avoid waking him.

It was getting late, so Zhou Zhuoyuan just sat at his desk and cracked open a textbook. He didn’t want to blank out in afternoon classes.

He Qinglan didn’t go to sleep either. Instead, he gathered his things and headed into the bathroom for a shower.

Zhou Zhuoyuan skimmed through his math book, then leaned back for a stretch—only to lock eyes with a pair of deep, dark ones. He felt a bit awkward. “Oh, you’re up? We didn’t wake you, did we?”

The other boy didn’t reply. He just looked away and silently got out of bed.

Once he was up, Zhou Zhuoyuan called out again. “He Qinglan’s in the shower—he should be out soon. Wanna head out together after?”

“Mm.” His roommate finally spoke, his voice surprisingly low and pleasant.

That single sound jogged Zhou Zhuoyuan’s memory. Pei He—the city top scorer on the Gaokao. He always kept his bangs overgrown and wasn’t much of a talker, so Zhou Zhuoyuan hadn’t recognized him at first.

But after the Gaokao results came out, Zhou Zhuoyuan had been sitting in front of their brand-new secondhand TV, scarfing down a bowl of egg fried rice, when the local station aired an interview with the top scorer. Pei He had cut his bangs by then, revealing those dark, serene eyes. Staring straight into the camera with that smooth voice of his, he said, “I just got lucky. Not everyone has luck like mine.”

The reporter followed up, asking if he had any words for the students who hadn’t been so fortunate.

Pei He looked right at the lens. “I hope you all find the courage to treat the Gaokao as just one opportunity you can afford to miss—and keep living your lives well.”

The egg fried rice was a bit scorched, bitter from the burn. This was Zhou Zhuoyuan’s first time cooking, and he’d even dropped some eggshell in while cracking the eggs. He took a sip of water and forced down a mouthful of rice.

Pei He suddenly called his name. “Zhou Zhuoyuan.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan snapped out of his daze and looked up at him in bewilderment. Pei He was shirtless, his toned physique on full display—his abs clearly defined even without flexing. Ever since his rebirth, Zhou Zhuoyuan had learned that this world was full of gay men, which left him feeling a touch uneasy. “What’s up?”

“Why have you been staring at me?” Pei He’s gaze remained as calm as ever, his tone carrying no hint of displeasure, only genuine puzzlement.

“Ah? Sorry, my bad—I didn’t mean to.” Zhou Zhuoyuan froze for a second before catching on, then quickly apologized. “I was just lost in thought…”

Pei He responded politely. “No worries. Is your body feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m good now. Sorry for the trouble these past couple of days.”

“No trouble at all. You only caused problems for Qinglan.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan was momentarily speechless.

The man’s attitude was courteous, yet unmistakably distant.

The same words, delivered with a smile or even in anger, wouldn’t have made him feel quite so awkward.

Perhaps he was just inherently unlikeable, which was why even a stranger like Pei He regarded him with such inexplicable hostility.

Luckily, He Qinglan chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom, towel-drying his hair. “What time is it? I’ll be ready in a minute.”