“What?”
Gu Congjue and his father, Gu Pingyue, spoke in unison, their voices filled with disbelief.
“What did you just say?” Gu Congjue’s eyes widened. “You’re saying my past life was…?”
“How on earth can you tell he died young just by looking at him?” Xiang Yuyan pressed, completely caught up in the moment. “Can a birth chart really reveal that much?”
Gu Pingyue was equally intrigued.
While Congjue’s parents were deeply surprised, their curiosity was more like that of an audience reacting to a thrilling plot twist in a movie gasping and marveling at the climax of a good story.
But Gu Congjue was completely different. He felt as though a lightning bolt had struck his soul. The Seer’s words hit the absolute center of a secret he had guarded for years, echoing perfectly with his deepest reality.
Ever since his reincarnation, he had lived for over fifteen long years carrying a memory that belonged to him alone.
He had never dared to confide in a single soul, let alone let his parents know that such an awareness existed within him. He lived like an displaced traveler from another dimension, watching this unfamiliar, strange new world with a sense of profound detachment.
Deep down, he desperately wanted to talk about it. He wanted to scream for help. He wanted to pour out the tragedy and helplessness of his past life, and he needed someone anyone to help him find the shadow that constantly haunted his mind: Shen Yanxing.
He had drifted in lonely isolation for fifteen years, and now, finally, he was standing before someone who might actually see the truth.
“From his chart, the paths of Young Master Gu’s past and present lives intersect. That is why I took a closer look at his previous fate,” the Seer, Madam He, explained softly. “The trajectory of that past life was upward, but his five elements were heavy with water and completely lacked metal, wood, and fire. It created a state of hollow prosperity.”
“His lifeline was short. It snapped suddenly, leading me to deduce an early death likely due to a severe illness or a sudden accident.”
Her voice was gentle, carrying a strange, hypnotic quality that made even the most cynical skeptics listen intently.
“But there is no need for you two to worry,” she continued, offering a reassuring smile to the anxious parents. “I merely glanced at his past out of professional curiosity. Looking at his present life, the young master’s path ahead is exceptionally stable and secure.”
“If I had to explain why his past and present lives overlap, it is likely because his previous life ended far too abruptly. Perhaps Heaven saw fit to place him by your sides in this life to make up for it and let him enjoy some well-deserved happiness.”
Every parent wishes for their child’s health and safety. While Gu Pingyue and Xiang Yuyan didn’t genuinely believe in the supernatural, hearing Madam He say this still brought a profound sense of relief to their hearts.
“Well, that goes without saying! Our little couch potato coming to live with Pingyue and me? Of course he’s here to be pampered!”
Xiang Yuyan beamed with joy. He reached back, blindly feeling for Gu Congjue’s clothes, trying to pull his son closer to pinch his cheeks.
“Come here, you lazy little thing! Let Mommy pinch your face!”
“As long as he is healthy and safe, that’s all that matters,” Gu Pingyue said with a gentle smile. He thanked Madam He and stood up, ready to leave. “That should be all. We don’t have anything else to ask. Yuyan, Congjue, shall we go?”
With Xiang Yuyan pulling him from the front and Gu Pingyue calling him from behind, Gu Congjue remained frozen, staring blankly at the space ahead.
“What else?” he asked abruptly.
He stared intently at Madam He, his eyes burning with a desperate need for more answers from his birth chart.
“What else happened to me in my past life?”
The sheer gravity and intensity on the young boy’s face made Gu Pingyue instantly uneasy. The protective, fatherly instinct of the seasoned actor kicked in, and he quickly shot a meaningful look at his partner, signaling: Get our son out of here, fast.
“Madam He still has other clients to see, and we’ve already taken up too much of her time. Let’s go,” Xiang Yuyan said, rising to his feet and firmly pulling his stubborn son toward the exit. “You kids are all the same, always getting obsessed with horoscopes, blood types, and all this mystical stuff.”
“Let’s go. If you want, I’ll roll some dice to tell your fortune later, okay?”
“But…” Gu Congjue protested, turning his head back with every step he was forced to take.
He had finally met someone who could see into his past! Even if it wasn’t entirely real, from a business perspective, wouldn’t Madam He be willing to listen to him if he paid her? He was truly on the verge of losing his mind from keeping it all bottled up.
If he didn’t confide in someone soon, if he didn’t leave some record of his intentions and thoughts, he was terrified that one day… he would completely forget his “past.”
“Of course, I know a bit about horoscopes and blood types too,” Madam He said smoothly. She placed a business card on the table, deliberately tapping her finger against the mobile number printed on it. “If Mr. Gu or Mr. Xiang ever feel the need, you can reach me through this number.”
Neither of the parents showed any interest, leaving the card untouched. But Gu Congjue, utilizing his photographic memory, memorized the digits with a single glance.
Later, he used that number to add her on WeChat, learning that her real name was He Fang.
Not long after the third mock exam, the high school entrance examination finally arrived.
For a major exam like this, Gu Congjue usually just went through the motions, scoring just enough to get by. Since the school no longer published official rankings, he didn’t even have to rack his brains to precisely control his scores.
His real worry was figuring out how to travel during the summer break.
His parents kept a frustratingly tight leash on him. Whenever he stepped out of the house, Nanny Rong was instructed to follow him like a shadow under the guise of “taking care of the young master” though it felt a lot more like house arrest.
With Nanny Rong glued to his side, there was no way he could sneak out to see He Fang for a reading. But how could he slip away without raising suspicion? Gu Congjue was completely stuck.
Locking his bedroom door, he reached into the deepest drawer of his desk and pulled out a small, locked wooden box. Hidden inside was a notebook filled with fragmented, handwritten entries the sole repository of his past memories.
When he was six, Xiang Yuyan had bought him this wooden box, telling him it was a safe place to hide “little secrets you don’t want Papa and Mommy to know.”
Coincidentally, that was right around the time he had learned to hold a pen properly. He had found a blank notebook and immediately began writing down whatever he could still recall of his past life.
In the beginning, he could write pages upon pages. At six years old, his memories were vivid. Even if his handwriting back then was clumsy and crooked, he could perfectly describe his malicious step-uncle and his idiot son, right down to their fashion choices and daily habits.
He had even drawn crude maps of the streets he used to walk, the houses he lived in, and the places he worked. Though looking at them now, they resembled chaotic scribbles that he could barely decipher, they stood as undeniable proof that he had tried.
He had desperately tried to hold onto those memories.
Back then, the image of Shen Yanxing in his mind was crystalline. He had been able to describe the boy with absolute precision in his diary: “Almond eyes, a mole just below his right eye, a small and delicate nose, thin lips, incredibly beautiful,” and “when he laughs, his eyes curve into crescent moons, and a dimple peeks out on the left corner of his mouth.”
But what about now?
Now, even when he looked at his own written words to reconstruct the face in his mind, the image remained stubbornly blurry. The face hidden in the depths of his memories was slowly losing its sharp edges, washed away by the relentless current of time.
Lost in his thoughts, a sharp knock on the door broke the silence. “Congjue? Dad’s home.”
Gu Congjue slammed the notebook shut, shoved it back into the wooden box, cleared his desk, and hurried to open the door.
“Dad,” he said, a faint pang of guilt making him avoid Gu Pingyue’s eyes. He retreated to his desk, pretending to be deeply engrossed in his studies. “Why are you back so suddenly?”
“I don’t have any scenes this afternoon, so I came back to pack a few changes of clothes,” Gu Pingyue said, walking in without suspicion. “When I came back a few days ago, you were still at school, so I missed you.”
“How was your graduation ceremony? Did Nanny Rong take a lot of photos for you?”
“It was alright,” Gu Congjue replied, twirling a pen over an untouched advanced calculus problem. “We took the group photo and left. Anyway, I’m staying at Ellington for high school, so if I’m lucky, I’ll probably bump into my middle school homeroom teacher every day.”
Gu Pingyue chuckled softly, patting his son’s shoulder. “So, what are your plans for the summer break? You’re either cooped up at home or burying yourself in the library. Aren’t you bored?”
“Why don’t you come to the movie set with me? You can learn a bit about acting and filming techniques.”
That was the last thing Gu Congjue wanted to do, and he rejected it instantly. “I’m not going. Dad, when did you become just like Mom, trying to drag me to a set every chance you get?”
“Oh?”
“Reading and doing exercises,” the young boy pointed at the textbook in front of him, speaking with absolute righteousness, “that is what real learning looks like!”
“Those two don’t conflict. You can bring your homework along,” Gu Pingyue noted, looking closer at the page before looking up in surprise. “You haven’t even started your freshman year of high school, and you’re already tackling advanced calculus?”
Gu Congjue didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes darted around as a new plan formed in his mind.
“I can go,” he said slowly, “but on one condition Nanny Rong can’t come with me.”
Gu Pingyue frowned. “Why? Having someone there to look after you gives your mother and me peace of mind.”
“I’m fifteen!” Gu Congjue racked his brain for a logical excuse. “I can take care of myself. Besides, if you round it up, fifteen is basically eighteen, which means I’m practically an adult. A mature man shouldn’t have someone hovering over him all the time, right?”
Gu Pingyue opened his mouth to argue, but being naturally quiet and fiercely private himself, the words failed him. He simply figured his son had hit that rebellious streak of adolescence where the need for independence takes over.
“Fine,” Gu Pingyue relented. “Pack your things. Meet me in the underground garage in half an hour. We’re taking the bullet train.”
The usually stoic Gu Congjue flashed a rare, bright smile, his voice tilting up with genuine excitement. “Great! I’ll be right down!”
The moment he closed the door behind his father under the pretext of changing clothes, he grabbed his phone and fired off a WeChat message to He Fang.
[Are you free this afternoon? I have something extremely important I need to ask you in person.]
While Gu Congjue was calculating a way to slip away from his father the moment they hit the set, Shen Yanxing had just finished his final scene as an extra.
“Alright, cut!”
The artificial rain machines sputtered to a halt, and the assistant director’s voice boomed through a megaphone.
“Excellent work, everyone! Head over to the coordinator to verify your hours and collect your pay! Make sure to change out of those wet clothes so you don’t catch a cold!”
It had been an intense scene featuring patriotic youths marching through a torrential downpour, leaving every single extra soaked to the bone.
Shen Yanxing had been positioned right in the front row. The moment the director gave the green light for payouts, he was the first to wring out his costume and sprint toward the crew staff.
“Sister Fan!” Shen Yanxing called out, completely unbothered by his drenched, bedraggled appearance as he wiped the water from his face with his sleeve. “I’m all done! Can I collect my pay now?”
Unlike the other extras who were hired through agencies, Shen Yanxing had shown up at the set by himself and managed to get in through Sister Fan’s recommendation.
“I’ve already transferred it to your WeChat. Go ahead and check your phone.”
“Really? Thank you so much, Sister Fan!” Shen Yanxing’s face lit up with a brilliant smile, his radiant warmth completely contrasting his soggy clothes. “If there are any other jobs like this in the future, could you please keep me in mind?”
Sister Fan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she placed her hands on her hips, looking at him with concern. “Why are you in such a rush to make money anyway? You’re only sixteen, you should be focusing on school. Is things at home really that tight?”
“Oh, it’s not like that,” Shen Yanxing shook his head, his smile never wavering. “It’s just that the aunt who took me in… she finally found her special someone and is getting married!”
“A few years ago, to raise me, she borrowed a massive sum of money from a wealthy family. Now that she’s getting married, she’s desperate to pay it all back. She’s working so hard to clear the debt that she hasn’t even saved anything for her own dowry. It breaks my heart to see her like this. I just want to do my part and buy her a beautiful wedding gift.”