It was a rainy day. A man with black hair cried in the downpour. In his thoughts, he recalled:"My name is Li Tianming, and I am 31 years old. I live in Hangzhou City. My parents died in a tragic accident—they didn't survive, even at the hospital. I was 15 when it happened, and I vowed to become a doctor because the surgery failed due to inexperienced doctors."
After that day, my uncle—my mother's older brother—took care of me. He promised to help me become a doctor. Through his support and my hard work, I graduated from a renowned university. While it usually takes 18–20 years, I devoted 26 years to honing my skills through study. My uncle was always there for me—even when I'd fall asleep at my desk, he'd carry me to bed. After all those hardships, I graduated as a top student in Hangzhou City.
Since then, I've treated countless patients and never let anyone cry on my watch. One midnight, a woman, bloodied and panicked, rushed in clutching a child with severe injuries. I took the child straight to the emergency room, leaving the mother with other staff because her injuries were less critical.
The child was coughing up blood heavily. While treating her, I noticed deep cuts on her back—I shouted to the nurse, "Didn't you give her anesthesia?!" She replied, "Dr. Li, I forgot in the chaos of a phone call." I yelled, "What are you staring at? Just give her the anesthesia!" As we administered it, the child whispered tearfully, "Uncle, don't save me…" That stopped my heart. But I pushed forward, and we stabilized her. Afterwards, I scolded the nurse: "Are you blind? Didn't you see the policy board? Phones on silent, no photos!"
Then the woman with bandages on her head and hands approached me, asking about her child. I asked, "Are you her mother?" She answered, "No." Suddenly, she darted toward me. I cursed under my breath, assessing her condition before rushing to the nearest hospital.
I reassured the girl, who appeared about seven or eight years old. She trembled, on the verge of tears. I placed my hand on her head and comforted her: "Everything's okay. Don't worry." After a while, I gently asked what happened.
Between sobs, she said, "After my papa… sniff… left Mama. Mama blamed me. While drinking… she grabbed a knife. I ran, but she cut my back, beat me, and threw me out the window. Boohoooo." My heart broke as I listened.
I soothed her, asking her to stay put, and went to question the woman. Just outside, a nurse screamed. I ran to see the little girl lying on the ground—she'd jumped from the third floor. I cradled her and checked her pulse. No sign of life.
I handed her body to hospital staff and fled to the back of the building, tears pouring as heavy rain masked my sobs. I headed home earlier than usual. In the downpour, I rang my uncle's bell. He opened the door to find me soaked and heartbroken. He pulled me into his arms and asked what had happened.
I sobbed, "I couldn't save the child, Uncle." He held me as I told him everything. He called the police, who began investigating. They discovered the child's mother was a well-known company chairwoman. When she learned my uncle called the police, she defamed him, spreading rumors that he was a thug, a rapist, and a murderer. Unable to bear it, he hanged himself.
I was unaware; I'd been away for emergency surgery in another city for two weeks. Returning home, I found his lifeless body hanging. I burst into tears, holding him as I cried in despair.
At the funeral, I heard the rumors. I realized the mother behind them—I was furious. My uncle, who'd supported everyone, now lay condemned by lies.
After the funeral, I sat alone, staring at his photo, when a group of tough-looking men approached. A woman in a dark suit followed, smirking.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
The woman replied, "I caused all this."
Furious, I lunged to punch her, but the men restrained me. Two daggers pierced my stomach. The chairwoman whispered, "That was my child. What I did to her is none of your business." I spat back, "You're a fucking psycho. No wonder your husband left you." Enraged, she withdrew the daggers and stabbed me again. "Your world ends here," she hissed to her men: "Throw him from the hill."
My vision blurred. Just as everything faded, I regained consciousness—immobile—with two faces leaning over me, whispering, "My child." Then I realized I had been reincarnated into another world.
A man held me upright.He said, "His name shall be Seung‑yong."