Wu Suowei died on a rainy night. As the wheels crushed his body, pain searing through him, the face before his eyes was Chi Cheng's, streaked with blood. The man he had hated for half his life was rushing toward him like a madman, the red in his eyes more piercing than blood.
When he opened his eyes again, the calendar had turned back five years. He was still holed up in a partitioned room that cost 800 yuan a month, with smuggled messages on his phone that would soon destroy his life. The man he collided with around the corner swept him with an icy gaze, a snake-shaped pendant glinting coldly on his wrist.
It was Chi Cheng. Chi Cheng, who didn't know him yet.
The hatred from his previous life weighed heavily on him: the illness hidden from him at his mother's bedside, the immaculate yet glaring suit at her funeral, the misunderstanding that remained unresolved until his death... Wu Suowei wanted only to run, but fate insisted on twisting parallel lines into an inescapable knot. He couldn't avoid the argument in the noodle shop, the car on that rainy night, or the job offer from the Chi Group.
When the snake-shaped pendant swung before his eyes again, Wu Suowei suddenly wondered: Perhaps getting a second chance wasn't about escaping, but about seeing clearly. How much unspoken concern had been hidden in all those years devoured by hatred?
It's so tiring to watch, looking for trouble to solve trouble, and then trouble again to solve trouble, just like the care of an owner for his pet, very boring