Rebirth: Super Banking System Chapter 4 - 2 Rebirth_1

Following the evening meal.

The plates had been scrubbed clean.

The kitchen stood spotless.

In Tang Qing's grasp were two bottles of ice-cold beer.

Along with a portable recliner, he headed up to the roof of their rented apartment.

The structure rose sixteen levels, and their place was at the summit, making the climb brief. Nighttime rarely saw visitors on the rooftop, rendering it serene, save for the sporadic far-off car horn.

Downstairs, Wang Qiang conversed with his spouse.

She'd recently discovered her pregnancy for this month.

He cherished her beyond measure.

Just a week prior.

Upon hearing about Wang Yan's upcoming marriage, Tang Qing believed he'd handle it with composure by now. Yet, reality proved otherwise; he couldn't fool his emotions.

Despite his desire to offer sincere best wishes for her joy,

a persistent gloomy shadow within him lingered, refusing to dissipate. Was it resentment? Hesitation? Inability to move on? Or... maybe this was simply existence!

Tang Qing tried to reassure himself.

Even though he recognized how pointless it was.

How does anyone trick their own feelings?

He reclined on the chair.

Gazing at the twinkling lights dotting nearby structures.

The distant city's glowing crimson haze left Tang Qing feeling detached and remote. No bond linked him to this urban sprawl, sparking a fleeting desire to head back home.

At that notion.

Tang Qing chuckled inwardly.

Could he, a mere regular guy, really fantasize about ascending to immortality?

It made far more sense to imagine such things in slumber.

He shook his head firmly to banish that 'foolish' notion.

From his pocket came a lighter.

He ignited a cigarette and drew in deeply. Having sworn off tobacco five years back, this one was borrowed from Wang Qiang. A fierce burn scorched his lungs.

"Cough, cough, cough"

So long without a smoke; adjusting took effort right away.

Still, after a handful of drags, familiarity from his prior habit kicked in, easing the transition.

His mind started to wander.

Returning to his earlier years.

Post-high school graduation.

Tang Qing anticipated a brighter, more vivid existence.

But.

A devastating vehicle collision crushed those hopes.

June 2005 marked the event.

Fresh from the Gaokao and submitting university preferences, he and his first love, Lin Jiaxue, journeyed back to their village.

They spent one night at Tang Qing's residence.

With Lin Jiaxue's grandmother celebrating a major birthday tomorrow, Tang's folks opted to shut the store for a couple of days. Tragically, a rundown, overburdened lorry veered wildly on a bend, slamming into their minibus.

Village transport allowed seating wherever space permitted.

An available spot meant you claimed it.

Up front sat his parents and Lin Jiaxue, perishing instantly, whereas Tang Qing, positioned at the rear, endured just a head injury and light breaks.

In a flash.

The key figures in his world vanished.

Overwhelmed by grief, he collapsed unconscious.

Consciousness returned the following morning.

Over the ensuing pair of days.

Calls from others went unanswered.

He merely gazed blankly at the roof overhead. By day four, composure returned; he left the medical center, determined to thrive for the departed souls.

Subsequently.

Supported by his uncle and Lin Jiaxue's folks, the burials proceeded. After managing his parents' business, he resided in the countryside until term began, collected his acceptance from his uncle, and enrolled.

Naturally.

Compensation flowed from the at-fault driver and the transport firm.

Yet he never spent a dime, locking it all in savings. Dipping into it felt like an insult.

Thus.

Another exhale of smoke.

A swig of brew.

Tang Qing relived fragments of his former existence.

Childhood delights, adolescent bewilderment, college lethargy, job frustrations, familial hopes, lingering sorrows—all unfolded like film reels in his thoughts.

His youthful, innocent history.

Drew occasional soft smiles, even bursts of laughter, yet soon shifted to open tears.

The wreck.

It inescapably resurfaced in recollection.

His beloved companion, joyful household, optimistic future, vow of eternal constancy—all evaporated like mist,

crumbling to nothingness.

Heart-wrenching pain.

Few grasp this sensation fully.

Yet the deep stab of remorse, that soul-piercing torment, wounds deepest.

Right then.

Tang Qing blurred the line between sobs and grins.

Such recollections.

Formed his essence.

And his dearest possession.

"If only I could return to those days!"

In a haze of fatigue, Tang Qing eyed the star-studded heavens and whispered.

Consequently.

Sleep overtook Tang Qing gradually, oblivious to a faint rift tearing open before him, which briefly dazed a handful across the metropolis.

That evening.

Tang Qing dreamed deeply, an extended vision.

He envisioned high school once more.

Reuniting with parents and Lin Jiaxue, though merely as an observer.

Speech eluded him.

Motion was impossible.

A mere watcher, as doom's crash neared, leaving him helpless to intervene. Ultimately, he witnessed the catastrophe repeat. The crushing despair hurled him from slumber.

"Ah!"

Jerking awake.

Reclaiming bodily command.

Tang Qing bolted upright.

Traces of woe lingered in his gaze, pulse racing wildly from the jolt, refusing to settle.

He softly dabbed the light perspiration on his brow.

Dream vignettes still flickered intermittently. Though it concluded in sorrow, reliving his kin's vivid company brought immense joy.

"Huh? What's this aroma?"

An odd but recognizable fragrance drifted near.

Instinctively, his thoughts scanned archives to pinpoint it. Utterly known, like ages since last encountered, yet elusive.

"Yes, it's the scent of my aunt's scallion pancakes."

Within moments.

Tang Qing pinpointed the origin.

During high school, he'd lodged at his uncle's urban home.

Mornings featured his aunt's homemade pancakes.

Her signature dish, utterly delectable, untouched since departing Jiang Province. The mere idea triggered drooling.

Yet why here, in this place?

Now alert, Tang Qing

Gradually sharpened focus on his surroundings.

Surprise hit as he observed the altered setting: a compact space under ten square meters. Desk, closet, fan, lamp, posters—all intimately known yet strangely new.

Where am I?

Neurons fired swiftly, matching against stored images.

Sudden enlightenment widened his eyes as he scanned about. Indeed, this was his high school stay at uncle's! Tang Qing's grandma bore two offspring: his mom and uncle.

All through secondary school, he'd dwelled there.

Uncle Qin Yugang, aged thirty-six then, post-army, joined law enforcement.

He served as Deputy Chief at Chengnan Station.

Carrying forward his bold, direct service ethos, he upheld integrity without pandering.

Pre-rebirth,

Uncle led the Economic Zone precinct and acted as Municipal Bureau's Vice Director. Lacking breaks, his ascent likely halted there.

Retiring honorably counted as fortunate.

Aunt taught Chinese at an elementary.

Gentle soul with twin girls, she'd longed for a boy but age deterred further tries. She doted on Tang Qing like her child.

Oddly.

Uncle's dwelling,

Didn't demolition for a civic green in 2015's overhaul claim it?

Relocation yielded three units.

Modest flats, yet valuable.

Aware Tang Qing shunned their payout, uncle and aunt offered one for his nuptials, but he declined. Fine folks, but accepting gains that way felt wrong.

Particularly from such devoted kin.

Time travel?

The idea jolted Tang Qing, prompting rejection of the wild concept, though visuals reinforced it relentlessly.

He raised his arm, noting the pale skin and school pants. To verify wakefulness, he twisted his flesh harshly, apeing elders.

Ouch...

Bruise blooming, the dubious Tang Qing delivered a sharp self-smack.

"Smack!"

Genuine sting.

No illusion this!

Though self-inflicting twice struck him as ridiculous.

"What in the world... bless those candied nuts..." Tang Qing grumbled oddly.

True translocation occurred.

Head up once more, he inspected the space meticulously.

Spotting the bedside calendar's ripped page confirmed all. Lin Jiaxue gifted it, a promo from a spice brand; she'd excess, sharing one.

White page, bold red script: October 1, 2004, National Day.

2004?

At seventeen then, Tang Qing.

From thirty-year frame, he'd reverted youthfully.

"I've truly returned... to seventeen... senior year underway... parents and Lin Jiaxue endure... all... all persist... breathing... incredible..." Tang Qing whispered.

Myriad ideas surged.

Tang Qing's nostrils tingled, vision blurring with glad tears, inwardly ecstatic. Fresh start means altering fates, I can...

Ten minutes elapsed.

Tang Qing eased onto the mattress.

Arms crossed behind neck, ceilingward stare, methodically ordering musings, feelings steadying.

Thirty years' wisdom advised.

Should this hold true.

Grasp the chance firmly, thrive anew, avert repeats of woe. Dream impotence and past woes amplified value of this rare gift.

"I'll ensure their happiness." Tang Qing vowed silently.

"Grumble..."

Belly rumbled in demand.

Excitement masked it before, but calm revealed ravenous hunger.

Scent lingering faintly.

Tang Qing rose promptly for morning fare.

Door ajar revealed the known parlor: worn couch, dated television, aged furnishings.

Three years here in old timeline.

Utterly recognizable.

Three-bed, one-lounge unit, acquired four years back. Prior two-bed layout cramped them, daughters maturing, room-sharing improper.

Then Tang Qing arrived.

Sisters doubled up anew.

Yet harmony reigned with cousins, no issue; delight prevailed.

National Day today.

Recall: uncle's clan visited aunt's roots, county below, dawn departure, return fifth October, four days on.

Biting into scallion pancake,

Gulping tepid milk,

Assurance of kin's survival, impending Lin Jiaxue sighting, flooded Tang Qing with rare tranquility. Profound bliss swelled.

Meal done.

Clock check: seven sharp, ample time.

Eightish plan: straight to Lin Jiaxue's shop. Holiday homework loomed, yet she'd assist family biz.

Idle Tang Qing tackled tidying.

Past stay: cleaning avoided.

Aunt, cousins handled his space, laundry too. Reflection brought chagrin and remorse.

"Lazy sloth, perish in slothfulness," Tang Qing chided.

Thirty minutes hence.

Duties complete, Tang Qing sprawled abed.

Blank ceiling gaze, mind drifting idly.