Chapter 1: Longing to Return to the Past, Hoping the Story Might Go On
Chapter 1: Wanting to Return to the Past, to Try and Let the Story Continue
There is a renowned tale from ancient times called “Zhuang Zhou’s Butterfly Dream.” It tells of the philosopher Zhuang Zhou, who once dreamt that he was a butterfly. Yet upon waking, he wondered: What if I am truly a butterfly, only dreaming that I am a man named Zhuang Zhou?
In October 2003, Li Jingkun, then a second-year middle school student, awoke at his desk with a similar sensation of waking from a long dream.
Suddenly, his mind was flooded with memories, as if scenes from a film had been etched onto his brain, ready to be replayed at will. The books he had read, the music he had listened to, the films he had watched—all could be recalled with vivid clarity. The people he had met, the things he had experienced, both joyful and sorrowful, none were forgotten.
Within these memories, he was already a grown man: in his thirties, with a modest business and a small fortune to his name. Yet, inexplicably, one day as he was plugging a 1TB external hard drive into his computer, he was struck by a sudden jolt of electricity and lost consciousness—only to awaken as a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boy again.
Was it all just a dream? Or had he truly lived through these years, only to be reborn by some mysterious twist of fate? Or perhaps, even now, was he still lost in a dream?
“What’s up? Daydreaming about some pretty girl?” His deskmate Xiaojun waved a hand in front of his eyes.
Xiaojun had been his tablemate in the second year of middle school, and the two were close friends. They lost touch after being placed in different classes the following year. Years later, Xiaojun struck it rich, likely making more money than Li Jingkun ever did, thanks to his older brother’s lucrative fabric wholesale business in Yangzhou. Xiaojun joined him there, business flourished, and he eventually bought a house and a car in Yangzhou.
“Who’s daydreaming about girls?” The girl sitting in front turned around. Her name was Zhang Linlin, somewhat pretty though a bit plump, cheerful, fond of laughter, and playful by nature.
“It’s Jingkun. Who knows what silly thing he’s thinking about.”
“Which girl are you thinking about? Someone from our class?” Zhang Linlin teased with a laugh.
“No, just pondering some philosophical questions,” replied Li Jingkun absentmindedly, not in the mood for jokes and brushing them off half-heartedly.
He spent the whole day in a daze, frequently replaying visions of the future in his mind. He barely listened in class, didn’t go out during breaks, skipped basketball after school, and simply rode his bike straight home.
Home was still the same as always. Apart from once moving during elementary school, his family had lived in the same spot for decades. Later, they built two more houses on the land. He himself had bought an apartment in the city, but his parents had always resided here.
His house stood by the roadside, a single unit, three stories tall. In his childhood, the village government had planned for five residential buildings along the road. His family owned a plot of land there, giving them the right to purchase one of the units. With money borrowed from many relatives, they built the house.
There were currently six people in the family: his parents, a younger brother, two younger sisters, and himself. His grandparents had passed away in recent years.
When he got home, only his youngest sister, still in elementary school, was on the first floor doing her homework. His mother was out working, his father was in the fields, and his other sister and brother were still at school.
The youngest, Li Xiaoxia, was in fourth grade. Though diligent at the moment, her grades were only average. Among the four siblings, only Li Jingkun’s academic performance stood out; the others, like most rural children, had little real sense of the importance of education and figured that finishing middle school was enough before heading out to work.
“Hey, what are you doing? Why are you pinching my cheek?” his little sister suddenly exclaimed.
“Does it hurt?”
“Of course it does! If it didn’t, I’d let you try pinching yourself!”
“Nothing, just keep on with your homework. There’s still time to work hard and make it into high school.”
“...”
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After several days, Li Jingkun gradually accepted his situation, treating the memories stored in his mind—1.5TB’s worth—as a gift from fate. Knowing that every choice he made now would shape his future, he resolved to change the course of his life.
The first thing he did was study more diligently, determined to improve his grades. In his previous life, his struggles had stemmed from failing to get into a better university or choose a better major. Even though he’d eventually earned some money and changed his life, he didn’t want to endure another eight or nine years of hardship and humiliation.
The second thing was to cut down on playing basketball, since it was during his second year of middle school that he’d suffered the most injuries to his foot. Naturally, spending more time studying meant less time on the court.
That afternoon, Zhang Linlin came in laughing with two close friends, arms full of posters.
They had just bought a stack of Jay Chou posters outside. It was 2003, one of Jay Chou’s most gifted and popular years. Yet, in both his past and present lives, Li Jingkun knew that Zhang Linlin wasn’t actually crazy about Jay Chou. She didn’t find him particularly handsome, nor was she a big fan of his music. So why did she buy so many posters this time?
One reason was that one of her close friends truly adored Jay Chou; another was that Li Jingkun himself liked him a lot.
So she bought a bunch of posters along with them.
Something new like this naturally drew the class’s attention. A crowd quickly gathered, with several students asking for posters, but Zhang Linlin refused them all.
Li Jingkun joined the group to take a look. At this time, Jay Chou could still be considered a heartthrob. In another decade or so, with that physique and face, he’d be as chubby as Lang Lang.
“What do you think? Nice, right? Do you want one?” Zhang Linlin asked him.
“Really?”
“Really! Pick the one you like.”
He remembered this scene from his previous life—it had happened just like this. He’d been surprised at the time; another boy had just been turned down when he asked for a poster, yet Zhang Linlin offered one to him, even though he hadn’t asked. It wasn’t the first time she’d given him something either; not long ago, she’d suddenly gifted him two or three little presents, saying they were birthday gifts—though it wasn’t even his birthday.
In his last life, he only realized Zhang Linlin might have liked him two or three years later, when he looked back on it all. At the time, he hadn’t understood much—everyone was still so young, everything was vague and dreamlike.
It wasn’t until he entered high school, grew more mature, and experienced a relationship that he gradually understood. So, this became one of his regrets from his previous life.
He remembered that Zhang Linlin left school to work before finishing her third year of middle school. Sometimes, passing by her neighborhood, he wondered if he might get a chance to see her again. Not to rekindle any old story, but simply to see whether she was doing well, to mourn his lost youth, and to thank her for all the wonderful memories she had given him.
(End of chapter)