The Rekindled Cold Flame

Lin Zhao died in the plane crash in 2025. At the last second of falling, a calloused hand pushed him. He didn't grab the hand. When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a creaking iron bed, with a mottled cement ceiling above his head, and an old school uniform that had been washed white beside his pillow. The numbers on the electronic watch were bright red: September 1, 2005. He was eighteen years old again. Back before it all started. At that time, he was still a thin and poor student who could not afford the two thousand yuan school choice fee. The girl he had a crush on was polite and distant to him, and the class teacher looked at him with regret in his eyes. No one knows what path this taciturn young man will take in the future - and no one knows how he will die twenty years later. But now, everything is different. He only had fifteen hundred dollars in his pocket, and there was one day left before the payment deadline. The seat in the classroom was still empty, waiting for him to sit on it. The girl who said "I'm sorry" to him in his previous life was running past him with her homework book in her arms, sweat beads on her forehead, and she gave him an unguarded smile. Lin Zhao sat in the third row from the bottom by the window, opened a brand new textbook, and wrote his name one stroke at a time on the title page. Outside the window is the sunshine of 2005, shining on the old locust trees, and the cicadas are chirping. He knew what would happen over the next twenty years. He knows which people will change his destiny, which things will make him doomed, and which choices will make him close his eyes in the final sea of ​​​​fire. This time, he will take a different path