Doug Feng found himself trapped in a dream that felt more real than reality. It played like a movie reel—his entire life unfolding from the moment he was born, through childhood, into school, college, and all the way to adulthood.
His early years were happy, filled with laughter, dumb pranks, and mischievous adventures with his childhood buddies. But once middle school and high school hit, things changed. Friends who used to climb trees and steal popsicles with him began focusing on grades and exams. The difference in family backgrounds started to show, and Doug, coming from a modest home, found himself slowly drifting apart from the pack.
By the time college rolled around, he was just another broke, average-looking guy with no connections, no confidence, and no girlfriend. Four years slipped by like sand through his fingers—forgettable, unremarkable.
But then, the dream jumped. Skipped past the part where he had "restarted" his life. Instead, it fast-forwarded to a future he never wanted to see.
Doug watched his older self grind through a joyless job, barely scraping together enough for a mortgage. He married a woman he didn't love—hell, didn't even know—and had a bratty kid who never listened. Every day was a cycle of exhaustion: work, debt, arguments, rinse, repeat.
"No!" he shouted in the dream, but no sound came out. "I don't want this life again!"
Doug jolted awake, drenched in sweat. The sky outside his window was still dark. A quick glance at the alarm clock confirmed it—4:17 a.m.
His heart was pounding, and his sheets clung to him like a second skin.
He sat up slowly, catching his breath. "I can't… I won't live like that again."
He swung his legs off the bed and stood up with resolve. "If heaven gave me another shot at life, then I'm not wasting it. I'll change everything—myself, my grades, my future… even Mom and Dad's lives."
Still shaken by the nightmare, he walked to his desk and flipped on the lamp. Books and notebooks lay scattered—some familiar, others covered in dust. He started organizing them, brushing off old papers and highlighting markers that had long since dried up.
As he sorted through a pile, he stumbled across something unexpected: a handmade booklet titled Life and Death, For Thee I'd Write. It was a collection of poems he had written back when he was feeling all "deep" and artistic.
Doug smirked. The poems were sappy, awkward, full of teenage angst—but they were his.
"Man, I really was a cringe factory," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Still am, maybe."
He looked over to his practice test booklets and began whispering to himself. "Language, Math, English, and Sciences—Physics, Chemistry, Biology. Max score is 750. Each of the first three subjects gets 150, and Science counts for 300."
To get into a decent second-tier university, he'd need at least 500 points. For a top-tier one? 550 minimum.
"I remember the year I took the Gaokao," he muttered, "the first-tier cutoff was 551. Second-tier was 495. I scored 482… Damn. No wonder I ended up in a third-tier school."
The sting of regret was still fresh, but this time it fueled him. This time, he wasn't going to settle.
He cracked open the first book and started reading. As if his mind was shaking off rust, facts and formulas began slotting into place like puzzle pieces. He read with a clarity he didn't have back then. Focused. Calm. Determined.
At around 5 a.m., he heard footsteps from the kitchen. His mother, Zhao Guifang, had gotten up to make breakfast. She pushed open the door to Doug's room and was shocked to see him already awake, hunched over his books like a model student.
"Xiaofeng?" she blinked. "What's gotten into you today? I've begged you to wake up early and study for years, and today you do it on your own?"
She walked over and gently patted his head, her eyes soft. "Forget it. I'll make your favorite—fried eggs with runny yolk."
Doug smiled. "Thanks, Mom."
He turned around and caught a glimpse of her graying hair. His chest tightened. How many times had he ignored her hard work? How many sacrifices had she made while he goofed off?
"Go on, read while the morning's still quiet. Your dad's heading out early too—I better get breakfast done before he leaves," she said, humming a little tune as she walked to the kitchen.
Soon, his father, Du Changsheng, emerged. A truck driver working for Shunfa Logistics, the man had been waking up before sunrise for years, slogging his way through long hauls for a meager monthly salary of just over 3,000 yuan.
"You going out on delivery, Dad?" Doug asked, eyes narrowing.
That question held more weight than it seemed. His memory stirred again. It was right around this time, before his original Gaokao, that something happened. Something that changed their family's fate.
Doug remembered it now—vaguely, like the echo of a dream.
A few days before his exams, his dad came home late one night, looking ten years older. No one told Doug anything back then—they didn't want to distract him. But after he started college, the truth came out.
That day, Du Changsheng had been scheduled to deliver a shipment of steel worth fifty to sixty thousand yuan to a factory in a neighboring city. He checked the cargo before setting out. Everything was there.
But by the time he reached the factory, the truck was filled with… rocks.
Not steel. Rocks.
Shunfa fired him immediately and forced him to pay for the losses. The family lost everything. Their savings were gone overnight. Doug's college tuition had to be scraped together through loans and relatives.
Later—much later—they found out the truth. Another driver from the company, Li Zuming, had orchestrated the whole thing. He and a couple of accomplices swapped the steel with stones and sold the cargo for profit. Doug's dad had been the scapegoat.
And by the time Li Zuming got caught pulling the same scam years later, it was far too late to make anything right.
But now, things were different.
Doug clenched his fists.
"No way I'm letting Dad be the fall guy again. Not this time. Not in this life."
He opened a fresh notebook and scribbled a reminder in the corner: Track Li Zuming. Timeline: Within the week. Evidence. Action.
If the universe wanted him to relive this life, then he'd do it his way.
And this time, no one in his family would suffer because of someone else's lies.