Si Shao moved his arms and woke up feeling sore all over, wondering vaguely where he was. Shouldn’t he already be dead? Was this the underworld?
Reflecting on his brief life, Si Shao tried to recall his past, but his memories felt blurred like a thick fog. He felt a deep sense of regret and worthlessness for having thrown away his life on a woman who had constantly deceived him. Yet, since he was already dead, regret was useless.
The person Si Shao felt most guilty toward was his older brother, Si Qin. As far back as he could remember, he had always caused trouble for Si Qin, leaving his brother to clean up his messes. In the end, he had even sold his shares to Si Qin’s rival for the sake of that woman, nearly driving his brother to bankruptcy. He wondered how things were going for Si Qin and the company now.
If he could start over, he would never act like a spoiled prodigy again, nor would he give Si Qin a reason to despise him. He would study hard and become a true second young master worthy of his status, rather than the good-for-nothing failure others made him out to be. He would never again force Si Qin to bow his head to others or nearly ruin the foundation left by their father and grandfather.
“Brother, if I get the chance, I will never hurt you again. I will strive to be a good younger brother!” Si Shao vowed with a rare sincerity.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. Si Shao belatedly looked up to see a group of doctors in white coats pushing open the door. Looking at him, they said with pleasant surprise, “He’s awake! The second young master is awake.”
With that, the doctors took turns stepping forward to examine Si Shao’s physical condition. Throughout the process, Si Shao remained motionless and cooperative, though his mind was entirely blank and bewildered.
He wasn’t dead? Had someone saved him? Si Shao wondered with pleasant surprise.
That couldn’t be right! Upon second thought, Si Shao was certain he had died—dead beyond any doubt, with no possibility of recovery. So what was happening now? His mind, not particularly sharp to begin with, was filled with confusion. Never mind; as long as he was alive, that was enough. Judging by the doctors’ words, he was still himself, and knowing that was sufficient. Thinking this, he stopped forcing his aching head to think further.
“What number is this?” A doctor held up a single finger in front of Si Shao and asked.
“One,” Si Shao replied with unusual good temper.
“Ah, and what number is this?” Relieved by the second young master’s pleasant response, the doctor raised a finger once more. Having heard rumors about how difficult the younger Si brother was to deal with, the doctor had feared he wouldn’t cooperate. But seeing the pale youth lying quietly on the hospital bed, the doctor realized he wasn’t as unbearable as external rumors suggested. Indeed, rumors were unreliable.
“Two.”
After a few more questions, which Si Shao answered properly and cooperatively, the doctors conferred among themselves and concluded that the second young master was in the clear. His recovery was going well, and after a period of observation to check for other potential latent complications, he would be discharged.
At that moment, Si Shao asked a question: “What time is it right now?”
“Today is August seventeenth,” the doctor who had previously questioned him replied.
“August seventeenth? Is it already 2022? So I’ve been in a coma for this long,” Si Shao muttered aloud, recalling that it had still been National Day when the incident occurred.
Hearing this, the doctor, who had just relaxed, felt a jolt in his heart. With a tense expression, he said, “2022? It is currently 2016, Si Shao. Think carefully; could you have remembered incorrectly?”
Twenty-sixteen… twenty-sixteen. Si Shao’s mind was consumed by those numbers. It was 2016—how could this be? He clearly remembered that the day of his accident was September 23rd.
Emotions churned violently within him.
Beep, beep, beep. The machine beside him emitted a harsh, continuous sound. Darkness swallowed Si Shao’s vision, and the last thing he registered was the doctor’s urgent cry: “Quick, start resuscitation! The patient is in danger.”
Inside the small hospital ward, hurried footsteps echoed as the doctors broke out in a cold sweat. If anything happened to the second young master in their hospital, they wouldn’t know how to answer to the Si family.
Plunged into darkness once more, Si Shao felt as though he were trapped in a dense fog that refused to clear, no matter how far he walked.
His eyelids felt heavy as lead. Struggling to open his eyes, he twitched the fingers of his hand resting at his side, attempting to make a fist, only for them to relax weakly.
No, he couldn’t give up. He remembered now—he wasn’t dead; he was alive. He had been reborn, returned to five years ago, before everything had even begun. Brother, this time I will never let you down.
He still needed to take revenge, to make that woman pay with her life, and to help his brother protect the company. He could not die; he had to wake up.
“Detecting a strong will to survive in the patient. Quick, continue the electric shocks. Good, like that, perfect.” Hearing these muffled words at the edge of his consciousness, Si Shao snapped awake.
“How are you feeling now, Si Shao?” The doctor asked with concern upon seeing him open his eyes.
“I’m fine. I want to sleep. You should all go out first,” Si Shao said, still feeling somewhat dazed and bewildered as he looked at the room full of medical staff.
“Very well, we’ll step outside. If you feel any discomfort, just press the bell by the bed,” the doctor said, looking with a trace of pity at the pale-faced young man on the bed. Sigh! It seems being the young master of a wealthy family isn’t all that great. Look, he’s been hospitalized for days, and not a single family member or friend has come to check on him. Shaking his head inwardly, the doctor walked out. Never mind, these aren’t matters for a humble doctor to manage.
Once everyone had left, Si Shao pulled the blanket over his head and curled up inside. In the darkness, tears streamed down the pale, sickly face of the young youth. A muffled, suppressed burst of laughter echoed from beneath the blanket—filled with excitement, joy, the relief of surviving a catastrophe, and a chilling, eerie malice.
I didn’t die. Su Shuer, are you ready? I, Si Shao, have crawled back from hell to exact my revenge on you, a hypocritical and vicious woman. And Brother, I won’t hurt you anymore; just wait for me.
After thinking things through for a while, Si Shao finally pieced together what had happened to him. He had died, but he had come back to life, returning to five years ago—to an occasion when he had been hospitalized after a drinking and racing incident with friends. The only difference was that back then, he had only suffered minor scrapes, unlike this time. Si Shao automatically attributed these changes to the butterfly effect following his rebirth.
Having sorted out his thoughts, his injured head began to throb with pain and fatigue. Refusing to dwell on it further, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Waking up the next morning with his stomach rumbling, Si Shao rubbed his eyes and stared blankly at the sea of white surrounding the room, taking a moment to process his surroundings.
A wave of grievance and sorrow followed. When had Si Shao ever gone hungry? Wherever he went, he had always been surrounded by attendants, with whatever he wanted prepared and brought directly to him. Experiencing hunger was truly a first for him. Furthermore, looking at the empty room where he was entirely alone—forget friends or family, even a household servant was absent—the newly reborn Si Shao felt a profound sense of desolation.
His memories reminded him that ever since he had hit his head and been hospitalized, not a single one of his fair-weather friends had come to visit him. Terrified of taking responsibility, they had all kept their distance. Yes, fair-weather friends. Having lived once more, Si Shao clearly understood that the people who used to swarm around him and flatter him were nothing more than a pack of fair-weather companions. Given a second chance, he would never let them deceive him again and drive him to a tragic end.
And Brother… Brother didn’t come to see me either. At this thought, Si Shao lowered his eyelashes desolately, a sharp pang of sadness piercing his heart.
Of course! Why would Si Qin come to see him? Si Qin had always looked down on him as a younger brother. In Si Qin’s eyes, Si Shao had always been a burden—a dispensable person, a disgrace to the Si family name. How could someone like that come to visit him? What kind of delusion had made him hope that his “brother” would check on him just because he was injured?