Chen Junqian didn't want his parents catching him in such a flustered state, so after that quick shout, he spun around and bolted back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. His folks, who had just gotten home, thought his attitude was a bit off but didn't dwell on it. One of them headed straight to the kitchen to wash up and start prepping dinner, while the other grabbed a fresh copy of Story World from the table and wandered off to the bathroom.
It was probably thanks to a dad like that—who couldn't even hit the john without sneaking a few pages to kill time—that Chen Junqian had picked up his reading habit so young. The bathroom always had stacks of little magazines like Story World or Zhiyin hanging around for downtime reads. Yilin and Reader were rarer sights.
The downside? You might get so sucked in that your legs went numb from squatting too long, and standing up took forever.
Peeking through the door crack, Chen Junqian caught glimpses of these scenes that brought his childhood memories rushing back to life, vivid and warm. His mood finally settled, and he reached out to yank open the curtains in his room. With the daylight still bright, he took a proper look around.
Nothing special, really—just a bed, a desk with built-in cabinets and a chair, and a nightstand. His spare clothes were all crammed in the same wardrobe as his parents'. The nightstand drawer held clean socks and random knickknacks.
The family's one computer was in his parents' room, locked with a password. He remembered scratching his head as a kid, guessing at the hint over and over, until he came up with a sneaky workaround and finally cracked it. That's when his internet adventures truly kicked off.
And just as Chen Junqian started daydreaming about using the web to score his first real bucket of gold—leaving all the other kids in the dust—that voice in his head chimed in again, all helpful and patient.
"Alright, now can we talk about the romantic comedy stuff?"
"I'm not the type to rebirth you just so you can build some business empire. Let me stress this again: at your age, what a kid should really be doing is..."
"Enjoying childhood to the fullest?"
"Nah, of course not. It's about forging all sorts of bonds with girls while you're young—building memories, triggering those classic CG events. We're talking rebirth for romance, full stop. And it has to be an all-HE romantic comedy. That's how you win from the starting line."
"Honestly, this rebirth timing is a bit late. You should've maxed out affection levels with every girl in kindergarten. Starting in elementary school... well, that's still childhood sweetheart territory, I guess."
"You've got a real obsession with romantic comedies."
"Because that's my wheelhouse. And if it weren't for you-know-who, I'd have reincarnated you into a setup where you wake up to a sister climbing on your bed, sweetly calling you 'Onii-chan, time to get up'..."
"Stop, stop, okay?"
Chen Junqian rubbed his temples, feeling a mix of exasperation and gratitude.
"I'm thankful you brought me back, sure. And yeah, I'll... uh, give this romantic comedy protagonist thing a shot. But everything's gotta build gradually, right? You keep throwing around the term, but I have no clue how to actually pull it off."
"Fine, fine. So you want me to hand out quests? But heads up—I don't do rewards for completions. I'm not that kind of system."
"You granting my wish to rebirth me? That's reward enough. I'll play along as best I can. And hey, setting the rom-com aside, after reliving this life, I'd probably want to date anyway. Never got around to it last time."
"That puts my mind at ease. So first off, try sparking some events with one or two girls—build those bonds. Up to you how; I haven't figured out your world's rules yet. Slapping on buffs like 'lucky pervert' out of nowhere might backfire, turning you from brooding celibate type to jailbait magnet. Sigh, anyway, good luck. I'm gonna hibernate and recharge for a bit."
With that, Chen Junqian felt his mind go blissfully quiet, like a weight had lifted. He flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as he mulled over his situation.
It was sixteen years back now, and a lot of those childhood details had faded. What was left was hazy, wrapped in fog. Sure, money-making ideas popped into his head easily enough, but maybe the system had a point—for an elementary kid, that stuff was jumping the gun. Better to just roll with it, soak in this second chance at the old days.
The late afternoon sun filtered through the window, warm on his skin, and before he knew it, Chen Junqian had dozed off. He only stirred when his mom called him out to wash up for dinner. "Coming," he mumbled, opening the door and stepping out.
Tonight's spread was three dishes and a soup: cucumber stir-fried with ham slices, green pepper and dried tofu with shredded pork, ants climbing a tree (minced pork with glass noodles), and a big bowl of tomato-egg soup.
When it was just the three of them, his dad Chen Jun and mom Wang Hongling never bothered piling food onto his plate. Chen Junqian wasn't picky—aside from the usual kid aversion to onions, ginger, and garlic, veggies didn't faze him.
"School just started—anything you need? Book covers, stationery? Oh, and this year's Elementary School Textbook Companion. Didn't you always want that at the start of every term?"
His dad's offhand question jogged a dusty memory. Chen Junqian shoveled rice into his mouth, nodding awkwardly. "Yeah, tomorrow."
"Make it the 23rd. I'll leave the money on the table; grab it on your way to school."
Back then, with no regular allowance, Chen Junqian had turned buying study aids into a sneaky way to pocket some cash. Take the Textbook Companion: it cost about twenty bucks, but he'd bump it up by two or three, and the extra became his spending money.
Fun fact—that book came with answer keys for every lesson's questions. Teachers often assigned those exact ones as homework, and it could even sub in if you forgot your textbook. In Chen Junqian's eyes, it was the king of bang-for-your-buck study guides.
"Got it."
Once they finished grilling him, his parents shifted to chatting about factory work. In the romance department, they were the real deal—unexpected, but solid. And honestly, it was this chill, harmonious home that kept him nostalgic about his childhood well into adulthood.
After dinner, Chen Junqian volunteered for dish duty. No pay in it, but hey, beats sitting around. With school fresh, he had zilch for homework— he'd knocked it out in class while zoning out.
With him handling chores, Mom naturally slipped out to play mahjong. She loved the game, boasting friends all over the factory. Stakes were low, just a social time-killer, so the family didn't mind.
Dad had it busier. Chen Junqian recalled this stretch being when his old man was pushing for a transfer or promotion, pulling overtime to manage production lines.
But that setup—parents out most evenings—had given him prime time in later years to dive into endless mouse-clicking gunfights, losing himself in online games, web novels, and QQ spaces.
Of course, that was after he cracked the computer password six months from now. For now, post-dinner vibes meant homework (done), heading downstairs to hang with the neighborhood kids, or catching TV and flipping through books.
As the saying goes, grown-ups play cards, kids play cards too. Chen Junqian rummaged in the second drawer of his nightstand and found a fat stack of round cards.
Just then, a shout from downstairs called his name.
Time had blurred the details, and after moving post-elementary, he'd lost touch. He could only name the leader, Duan Xin, not the pack of kids trailing him. But kids didn't care about names when playing—just numbers for the fun.
He yelled back and grabbed a thick wad of round cards from the drawer, stuffing them into his pockets. His collection featured Ultraman and Digimon designs—stiff plastic-coated cardboard that glittered when shaken.
Once the kids huddled up, Chen Junqian turned to Duan Xin, the only one he remembered. "Where we playing today?"
"Sun's still kinda hot. Under the tree?"
He pointed to a shady spot nearby, and the five or six boys crammed in, eagerly pulling cards from their pockets.
Rules were dead simple: take turns slapping your card to flip an opponent's face-up and claim it. Easy to pick up, but winning consistently? That took skill.
Duan Xin was the master, reading card positions and tweaking his moves on the fly. Unlike the others who just smashed down and kicked up dust, he nailed basics like stomp (edging upright to tap lightly), slice (flicking a raised corner with finesse to flip it), shovel (power-smashing weak spots), and even spin (twirling to drag the opponent's card around and over). Combo 'em right, and he was unbeatable.
At least, Chen Junqian—rusty after over a decade—couldn't snag a single win off this elementary pro. By the time they wrapped, a quarter of his cards had vanished into Duan Xin's pockets.
"Tomorrow, Three Kingdoms Kill?"
Maybe sensing the one-sided wins weren't fun forever, Duan Xin suggested it—sustainable fishing over draining the pond. He'd just splurged his saved allowance on the full standard set, cementing his kid-crew status. Without the host, no game.
"Sure! I'm picking Xiao Qiao—her art's so pretty."
"I want the one with the horse-slaying sword... Lu Sun!"
"Zhao Yun's skills suck. Why's such a cool animated guy stuck with just kill-as-dodge, dodge-as-kill?"
Talk of Three Kingdoms Kill got everyone hyped, but then someone piped up, "It's seven—Animation Dream Factory's on!" And poof, they scattered.
For elementary kids like them, the kids' channel's midday Anime World and evening Animation Dream Factory plus Galaxy Theater were must-sees. Chen Junqian was no exception.
Nostalgia pulling him, he headed home, flicked on the TV, and caught the opening: Little Deer Sis and Bubble Dragon chirping, "Cartoon Fun Island, joy you can't avoid!"
After some intro banter, the season's animation rolled. The epic opening vocals hit Chen Junqian like a thunderbolt, followed by gilded text: "52-Episode Animated Series—The Monkey King."
"Play the demons, toy with devils, Ruyi Jingu Bang rights the wrongs—"
Ah, so Animation Dream Factory was airing this one right now.
Hearing that familiar opener—stretched out in the same style as Sun Nan's Nezha Legend theme—jogged Chen Junqian's memory sharp. No wonder he recalled watching the classic Journey to the West with the Monkey Bro theme, plus this Sun Wukong solo. Yeah, this was it.
Speaking of, right before his rebirth, he'd just platinumed Black Myth: Wukong. Kinda like a time-spanning crossover—the Great Sage Equaling Heaven, Sun Wukong, was their first superhero crush. Every summer break, he'd snag the perfect stick from Grandma and Grandpa's woodpile to swing around.
Animation Dream Factory wrapped at 7:30, sliding into Wisdom Tree.
Seeing Red Fruit, Green Bubble, and that pink critter—lion? Hedgehog?—Little Gudong chanting, "Wisdom fruits on the tree, you and me underneath, games in front, fun galore," had Chen Junqian hugging his knees on the couch, a grin creeping up unbidden.
Wisdom Tree led into 8 PM's Galaxy Theater—the latest he stayed up as a kid. Bedtime loomed around then.
This season? Dinosaur Baby.
Even after shutting off the TV and sticking to his old routine—washing face and feet, slipping under the covers alone—Chen Junqian's head still hummed with JJ Lin's theme:
*I stand on the world's rooftop, peering at heaven and earth through a magnifying glass.*
Romantic comedy? Yeah, that could wait till tomorrow.
His first reborn night matched the deep, sweet sleep of any kid his age. Chen Junqian crashed hard, undisturbed.
He dreamed of racing through fields on the wind, skies with clouds, beaches kicking waves.
In that moment, he was back in the days when growing up felt impossible, unbelievable. All he had to do was crest the hill, chasing a butterfly he'd never caught.
But this time, the scene wasn't some foggy dream from a decade-plus later, leaving only vague regret on waking.
Because Chen Junqian knew: opening his eyes, he'd still be in this childhood room.
The beauty of "see you again" is it's both goodbye and hello.
He was home.
Family still here, best friends forever young.