APR 30

Zhong Su transferred several buses before getting off at the Wangshu Mountain stop in the suburbs.

After walking about a hundred meters up the mountain path, he looked up to see the hillside covered with graves. The autumn wind rustled through the green pines planted on either side of the tombstones, creating layer upon layer of green waves.

With the development of Yangang, land had become increasingly valuable. Ordinary families with limited means could neither afford the luxurious burial plots in the city center nor secure a place in the popular Buddhist temples. Most ended up choosing Wangshu Mountain Cemetery located at the city’s edge.

Zhong Su counted the steps as he ascended, his gaze sweeping over rows of tombstones until it finally settled on one:

“…Section B, No. 2343, found it.”

His eyes fell upon a gray-black tombstone.

The tombstone was clearly custom-made with care—the stone material was clean and the design tasteful. In the center was a black-and-white photo of Li Zhaodong during his lifetime. The man in the photo wore his best Guladen suit, attempting to appear refined, but the unruly roguishness between his brows still seeped through his stiff smile.

Zhong Su tapped three cigarettes from his pack, lit them, and neatly arranged them in the incense burner before the tombstone.

“Uncle Dong, you probably still recognize me?” he said casually, as if chatting with an old friend. “It’s Zhong Su. Didn’t die after all—came back from the waters of Qiyan Island.”

“Came in a hurry this time, didn’t have time to prepare proper incense. These cigarettes will have to do for now. Hope you don’t mind—next time I’ll bring you better gold ingots and candles.”

The blue smoke from the cigarettes curled upward, blurring Li Zhaodong’s artificially solemn face in the photo.

Zhong Su lit another cigarette for himself, biting the filter as he took a deep drag. The bitterness of nicotine slightly eased the suffocating feeling in his chest.

“You’ve always been good to us younger ones, so I really want to ask you: why did your people appear on Qiyan Island to hunt down me and Chen Huan? But now that you’ve ended up like this, there’s no point in asking anything anymore.”

Standing before Li Zhaodong’s grave, he suddenly gained clarity. There was no need to insist on reuniting with Chen Huan and Shou Hou. They had already started new lives with their own paths to follow, while he was an outsider who had stumbled into this era—possessing nothing and fitting in nowhere.

Among brothers, sharing hardships comes easily, but sharing prosperity often proves difficult.

Even if Chen Huan believed his absurd “reborn” story and didn’t mind helping him gain footing in this era, all he could do was continue working for him like before.

That ultimately wasn’t the path he wanted to take.

“Had enough of this place anyway,” Zhong Su flicked the ash, watching the sparks scatter in the wind, feeling a burden lift from his heart. “Might as well leave now.”

Perhaps in the grand scheme of things, his rebirth into this young, healthy body with no criminal record was specifically meant to give him a chance to start over in the inland regions.

Zhong Su made up his mind: once he saved enough for travel expenses and living costs to settle inland, he would leave Yangang and not return unless absolutely necessary.

After paying respects to Li Zhaodong, Zhong Su took the bus back to the city center. By the time the rickety bus arrived, the sun was already setting in the west.

He specifically targeted streets clustered with restaurants and convenience stores—these types of shops frequently hired temporary workers, with low entry barriers and daily cash payments, making them the most suitable for his current situation.

After walking just a few blocks, Zhong Su spotted a job posting on the glass door of a roast meat shop. The red paper read: “Hiring servers, under 35 years old, salary negotiable.”

The roast meat shop seemed to be a newly opened business, with flower baskets tied with red ribbons bearing the words “Grand Opening” lined up from the entrance all the way to the edge of the sidewalk. The red ribbons fluttered in the wind.

What a coincidence—just like a pillow delivered when one is dozing off.

Zhong Su pushed the door open and entered. The shop owner stood behind the counter, swiftly and skillfully chopping a glossy roasted goose with precise cuts.

Noticing him, the owner greeted him enthusiastically, “Hey, handsome, what would you like to eat?”

“I’m here to apply for the server position,” Zhong Su shook his head and pointed to the job posting outside.

“Applying?” The owner gave him a quick once-over and frowned. “Well, go take a seat at that empty table over there. I’ll come out to talk to you in a moment.”

He called over an employee from the kitchen to take over the chopping, then lifted the partition and stepped out, grabbing an order pad and a pen on his way.

The owner sat down opposite Zhong Su. He wore a greasy apron and unconsciously shook his leg as he spoke. Staring at the shiny earrings in Zhong Su’s ears, he asked, “So, handsome, first things first—what’s your education level?”

Zhong Su didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he recalled the original owner’s experiences and was disappointed to find that the original owner was an outright rebellious teenager—using textbooks as scratch paper, handing in blank exam sheets, and dropping out of high school to wander the streets. He was practically a modern-day candidate for “burning books and burying scholars.”

Such a resume was clearly not presentable.

He cleared his throat and braced himself to say, “High school graduate.”

The owner gave him a sidelong glance and tapped the order pad with his pen. “Well, can you do basic math? Do you know all the dish names? Can you operate a cash register?”

Zhong Su replied, “Math and dish names aren’t a problem, but I’ll need to learn how to use the cash register…”

Before he could finish, the owner decisively wrote down two words: Illiterate.

“How many people are in your family?”

“…Right now, I’m living alone.”

The owner paused his pen, finally looking Zhong Su in the eye, and asked hesitantly with a raised tone, “Living alone?”

Zhong Su was used to such scrutiny. He flashed a flawless fake smile, maintaining a respectful attitude. “I grew up in an orphanage, so I have plenty of family in a way. But after they left the orphanage, they had their own lives to attend to, and we gradually lost touch.”

“Oh, so you’re an orphan.” The owner wrote down “Orphan” and gestured vaguely toward Zhong Su’s ear with his pen. “With all those piercings in your ears, have you ever worked as a server before?”

Zhong Su looked at the two glaring words, “Illiterate” and “Orphan,” on the notepad and felt the blatant discrimination.

He cut straight to the point and asked bluntly, “Boss, why not be straightforward? Just tell me if you’re going to hire me or not.”

The owner hadn’t expected Zhong Su to be so direct.

“Well…” He was momentarily at a loss for words, holding the notepad and pretending to read what was written. “Originally, I’m a very kind-hearted…”

“People, no matter who, are usually willing to give young folks a chance. But you don’t know how to operate a cash register, you’re an orphan, and the number of earrings on your ears is downright alarming…”

He slowly closed the notebook, curling his lips: “You do have a pitiable background, but unfortunately this isn’t a charity house. Let me give you some well-meaning advice – you’d better try other stores.”

The insult was so childish that Zhong Su couldn’t even muster anger. He merely chuckled softly and said: ‘No hiring delinquents’ – such a simple phrase, why not just say it directly? Instead, you went through all that trouble to beat around the bush, like performing in a monkey show. How amusing.”

“As for your so-called kindness, better save it for plastering walls.”

Zhong Su pushed back his chair and stood up, leaving the shop owner sitting there with his face alternating between pale and flushed.

Just as he approached the entrance, he saw a motorcycle sweep through several flower baskets and crash directly into the roast meat shop’s counter. With a loud “bang—”, glass shattered across the floor.

The plump shop owner’s wife let out a piercing scream, rushing out from behind the cash register to curse at the motorcyclist: “Looking to die? With such a wide road, are you blind crashing in here?”

The rider wasn’t about to back down either, removing his helmet to retort: “Your flower baskets are blocking the street center! A banner suddenly flew right into my face, how could I see to ride? And you have the nerve to curse at me?”

As the two exchanged curses, the shop owner rushed over to mediate but was shoved hard onto his backside, landing right at Zhong Su’s feet, moaning in pain. Zhong Su glanced down at him indifferently, then stepped over him without hesitation and walked out of the shop without looking back.

This unpleasant interlude didn’t affect Zhong Su. He continued along the street, searching for the next job posting.

But today’s luck truly couldn’t be considered good. After running around all day, aside from two shops that told him to “wait for notification,” all the other establishments showed clear “defensiveness” in their eyes upon seeing his appearance. Some weren’t even willing to give him an interview opportunity.

Still, Zhong Su didn’t feel particularly disappointed. That two shops were willing to consider hiring him was already much better than his previous life, when he’d just been released from juvenile detention and everyone treated him like a rat to be avoided.