Chapter 1: Rebirth

He clutched his son and sobbed. Jiang Yunnuo blinked in confusion, reaching out his tiny hands to wipe at the tears, but they kept coming. The little guy grew anxious, his voice wobbling. “Don’t cry, Daddy. Did Nono misbehave and make you mad?”

Those childish words stabbed at Jiang Shunnian’s heart. He choked out, “Nono’s such a good boy—how could you ever make Daddy mad? It’s Daddy who’s no good, making you suffer alongside me.”

He’d chosen to give birth to Nono but failed to see him grow up, leaving his precious boy to face life alone, cross paths with scum, and be ground down mercilessly.

“No way! Daddy’s the best daddy in the whole world!” Nono blinked his big, grape-like eyes, glistening and bright, utterly earnest. “I love love Daddy most!”

Fresh tears welled up in Jiang Shunnian’s eyes just as he’d nearly stopped them.

It took a long while before he wiped his face dry and calmed down a bit.

He had no idea why he’d been reborn, but since heaven had granted him this chance—and shown him the plot to come—he’d seize it. He wouldn’t abandon Nono again.

First things first: he had to make more money. Even if he couldn’t defy fate entirely, at least he could leave his son a solid inheritance. That way, Nono wouldn’t end up working at a bar at sixteen due to poverty, crossing paths with that scum and kicking off a decade of misery.

In his previous life—or that’s what he should call it—he’d worked in showbiz. Formally trained with solid acting chops, he’d played a few pure, idealized love interest roles despite lacking backing or resources. He’d scraped together some cash, but later got schemed against, drugged at a booze-fueled dinner, and paid a heavy price. Disillusioned, he’d quit the industry.

Once Nono came along, he’d shelved any thoughts of returning, focusing solely on raising his son.

After Nono started kindergarten, he’d taken a mundane clerical job—nine-to-five, low-stress but low-pay. Life had been peaceful and warm.

But misfortune strikes without warning. When Nono was ten, Jiang Shunnian got hit by a runaway car on his way home from work. He’d clung to life by a thread, seen his son one last time, and let go.

He’d thought death was the end, lights out. Instead, endless plot points flooded his mind, revealing that his world was an old-school abuse novel—and his Nono was the suffering protagonist shou.

At sixteen, Nono would meet the slag top Qin Huan at that bar, catching the man’s eye. But Nono’s firm rejection bruised Qin Huan’s ego, so the bastard transferred to his school, pulled strings to become his deskmate, and unleashed three years of bullying.

Ripping up his papers, sabotaging his jobs, dragging him into the woods for forced kisses.

He even orchestrated a car crash via one of his pursuers, leaving Nono with a broken leg.

God only knew how much it tortured Jiang Shunnian to learn of these future torments. His heart felt shredded by barbed knives, driving him to madness. He wanted to kill that scum.

He didn’t care about the book’s excuses—Qin Huan’s tragic family twisting his personality into something warped. None of that was Nono’s fault. Why should his son pay the price?

If Qin Huan ever showed his face, Jiang Shunnian would murder him without a second thought.

Jiang Shunnian took a deep breath, shoving down the violent fury. Cradling his docile son in his arms, he planned their future.

No more dead-end jobs—the pay was too low to build a nest egg for Nono.

But with no degree, no specialized skills, and a toddler to care for, acting was his best bet.

Why not dive back into showbiz and grind for a few years?

He’d banked over seven hundred thousand after just two years there. Money came faster that way.

He’d call his old contacts soon.

Next, he recalled the book’s depiction of Nono: desperate for a family, for loved ones to cherish him.

Having died once already, Jiang Shunnian couldn’t promise he’d live to a ripe old age. What if he suddenly vanished? What would become of Nono?

Should he track down Nono’s other father?

Maybe the man was the anomaly?

That night, drugged out of his mind, he’d shoved everyone away, stumbled into a random room, and been fucked three or four times. When he couldn’t take anymore, he’d fled while the guy slept—too scared to even glance back, limping the whole way.

He’d used protection, but the man’s size wrecked it, pounding away with zero finesse. Pure torture… Not important now. Point was, he had no leads, and it had been three or four years. Impossible to trace.

But he couldn’t exactly search by height and dick size.

Jiang Shunnian rubbed his temples with a headache.

A gurgling rumble from Nono’s little tummy snapped him out of it. He set aside the worries, scooped up his son, and headed to the kitchen, voice tender. “Aw, is Nono hungry? Daddy’s making food right now!”

Overjoyed at this second chance with his son, Jiang Shunnian was extra clingy today. Even cooking, he dragged over a little stool for Nono to sit nearby, glancing over every few seconds, terrified his boy might vanish.

Three-year-old Jiang Yunnuo was a patient angel, indulging his daddy with a sweet smile each time those eyes turned his way.

Until his cheeks ached from grinning.

Jiang Yunnuo quietly patted his face.

Jiang Shunnian’s cooking was top-notch—even simple breakfasts came out looking, smelling, and tasting divine. He could’ve been a pro chef.

Nono was already so independent, spooning it up bite by bite with relish—no chasing this kid around like other brats.