Reborn into the Political World

In the intensive care unit, the indicator lights on the various machines blinked in the darkness. Lu Beichen lay in bed, barely breathing. His stomach cancer was terminal and had spread throughout his body. There was no hope of a cure.

“She waited for you for ten years,” the old man said at last. “From that rainy night in Qingping to this hospital room. Ten years.”

The monitor let out a continuous beep. Lu Beichen’s consciousness slowly faded, and one final thought crossed his mind: If he could live his life over, he would never take that umbrella. He would hold the hand that offered it instead.

“Director Lu? Director Lu?”

A voice came from far away. Lu Beichen’s eyes flew open. Blinding sunlight poured in through the window, and the light from the computer screen made him squint. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and realized he was sitting at a large desk.

This wasn’t a hospital room.

“Are you all right?” a young voice asked cautiously.

Lu Beichen slowly turned his head. A young man in his early twenties stood at the office door, holding a document and looking worried. Lu Beichen snatched up the phone on his desk: March 17, 2014, 3:24 p.m.

Ten years ago.

He had been reborn, back to the day before he was sent off to a poor county.