Zhao Feng dragged his feet toward his apartment after another long day of unpaid overtime.
His body felt heavy with exhaustion, but his mind was buzzing with complaints about his soul-crushing job.
That damned company—forcing him to work late with no extra pay.
So unfair, he thought, collapsing onto the bed like a lifeless puppet.
"Damn it… that bastard Manager Li dumped all his work on me again.
If it weren't for the fact that I need this job,
I would've slapped that greasy fat face of his,"
he muttered bitterly, punching his pillow.
Weighed down by fatigue, his eyes slowly closed.
If nothing else, sleep would be a brief escape from the hellish reality he lived in.
But when Zhao Feng opened his eyes again…
He froze.
A strange ceiling greeted him. One he hadn't seen in a long time.
Confused, Zhao Feng sat up and looked around.
This wasn't his dingy apartment. No—this room felt… unfamiliar yet nostalgic.
The scent of aged wood. Sunlight slipping through thin curtains.
A desk cluttered with schoolbooks.
And on the wall… an old anime poster from his high school days.
"This… this is my room back in high school?" he whispered, heart pounding.
Before he could think any further,
a familiar voice pierced the quiet air.
"Feng! Wake up! Breakfast is ready! Don't be late for school!"
His body stiffened. That voice… filled with warmth and concern…
"…Mom?" he choked, tears welling up before he could stop them.
That voice—gone for over ten years now.
His mother had died in an accident… and yet…
"Is this… a dream?"
But Zhao Feng didn't care if it was a dream or not.
He stood up and slowly opened the door.
There she was. A beautiful woman in her forties wearing a neat office suit, staring at him with a puzzled, gentle smile.
Then—
She reached out and pulled his ear.
"Ah—ouch! Mom! Don't pull my ear!"
She gave a quiet humph and let go.
"Go wash up and eat. We're going to be late."
Zhao Feng followed her to the dining room, his heart trembling.
The moment he tasted her cooking, tears almost fell again.
This was the taste he never appreciated back then.
Now, it was more delicious than anything in the world.
Lin Rou, his mother, looked surprised seeing her son eat so eagerly.
He used to hate breakfast.
But she didn't ask questions. Just smiled and ate with him like any other morning.
After eating, Zhao Feng changed into his old school uniform.
It felt tight in places, but the sensation… was nostalgic.
They went down together, and he got into her car.
Sitting beside his mother—something he thought he'd never experience again—Zhao Feng stared at her in silence.
Her gentle perfume, her calm demeanor—it was all so real.
"Did I… return to the past?" he wondered. "Or is this… a second chance?"
Minutes later, they arrived at the school gates.
"We're here. Don't just sit there spacing out," Lin Rou said with a smile.
Zhao Feng nodded, stepped out of the car, and headed inside.
...
When he entered the classroom, a few students were already there.
Without a word, he went to sit in the back by the window—his usual spot.
No one greeted him.
But that was fine.
In his previous life, Zhao Feng had always been the quiet type.
He wasn't hated—just ignored. A background character.
More students began filling the room.
Laughter, conversations, and footsteps filled the air.
And then—
The door opened again.
Zhao Feng looked up.
She walked in.
Light steps, graceful presence.
As if the entire classroom was drawn to her—so was he.
Long brown hair cascading past her shoulders, a soft ribbon tying a few strands behind her ear.
Delicate, elegant features. Big, clear light-brown eyes.
Her gaze was sharp yet serene, like morning dew falling gently onto leaves.
Flawless skin, faint blush on her cheeks, and a subtle smile blooming at the corner of her lips.
She wore the school uniform perfectly—crisp white blouse, neat gray skirt, and a navy ribbon tied just right.
Nothing extravagant, yet every detail of her shone.
Zhao Feng's eyes widened.
He knew her.
Xiao Yuyan.
The youngest daughter of the influential Xiao family.
Just like before, without a word, she walked down the rows of desks…
And sat beside him.
The same seat she always used to sit in.
Their eyes met.
For a moment—
The world quieted.
"Morning," she greeted softly.
Her voice was gentle and refreshing, like a breeze on a spring morning.
Zhao Feng, a man who had lived a second life, remained calm.
He nodded and replied with a small smile, "Morning."
Xiao Yuyan looked a little surprised.
"You… answered me?"
She was used to him being shy and quiet, never returning her greetings.
Now, he did.
But the next moment, Zhao Feng looked away and ignored her.
Xiao Yuyan blinked, puzzled.
And… a bit disappointed.
Did she make him uncomfortable?
Was he still that same shy boy after all?