I died once. The dull thud of my head hitting the ground after I jumped from the roof of an office building is still etched in my ears. The man who framed me was Huo Mingcheng, my former boss. He stood downstairs, watching me with a smile. My ex-wife stood beside him. When I opened my eyes again, it was April 16, 2015, my thirtieth birthday. That was the day I was laid off. The day she asked for a divorce. The day my mother was diagnosed with heart disease. The day I had only 372 yuan in my pocket. In my previous life, I replied to her with one word: "Fine." I signed the divorce papers, then got a call from the hospital, then climbed onto the roof. In this life, I turned my phone facedown on the bedside table. In my previous life, I worked in risk management, analyzing data, calculating risks, and guarding the bottom line. But I never thought I'd trust the wrong person, jump off a building, or fail to scrape together enough money for my mother's surgery. Heaven gave me a chance to start over. I have fragments of memories from the next ten years in my mind, intermittent and hazy. I can see a person's hidden labels: what they fear, what they want, and when they'll leave someone. But using this ability too much gives me headaches, robs me of my voice, and reminds me of the rain on the day I jumped.
I don't care.
In 2015, the mobile internet is booming, the sharing economy is just emerging, no one has gotten into short videos yet, and livestream shopping is a joke. I know where the opportunities are, but I have no money, no people, and no resources.
All I have is the eye of a risk management director and a heart that has died once.
Huo Mingcheng, Zheng Wanning, Shengjing Capital, and the real mastermind standing behind them all.
I'm in no hurry.
In this life, I'll start from scratch and rise again.
