Jian Xun was dead.
He died in the small room the Jian family had just “arranged” for him—a place he was temporarily moved to so the real young master of the Jian family could have the better room.
On the narrow bed lay a thin, frail boy curled up under a thin blanket. His limbs were tightly wrapped, only his head exposed. A sickly flush colored his pale cheeks, and a damp lock of hair clung to his sweaty forehead. His thin T-shirt was soaked and wrinkled. Long, curled eyelashes trembled slightly, as if trying to open but lacking the strength.
The small room was pitch dark, with only a faint glimmer of light coming through the window. Jian Xun felt afraid. His head throbbed with pain, and he struggled to breathe. His throat was so dry and itchy that he couldn’t make a sound. It seemed like his illness was more serious this time.
He groped blindly for his phone. After what felt like forever, he finally managed to make a call.
As soon as the call to his eldest brother connected, even before he could say anything, he heard the voices of his siblings chatting on the other end.
“Jian Yue, you don’t need to worry about Jian Xun. Today’s your birthday. It would be such a buzzkill if he showed up sick. Besides, he’s the one who stole your identity in the first place. He should know his place—he’s just a worker’s kid, not a real young master.”
“He’s always been sickly. What else can he do besides suck up to people? Nobody likes him. Not inviting him today is the right choice. He’s not really part of the Jian family anyway. If it weren’t for him, you would’ve returned to the family a long time ago.”
“Don’t say that. It’s not his fault,” Jian Yue’s voice came through the phone—calm, tinged with helplessness. “My sudden appearance completely changed his life. It’s not something most people could handle easily. And it’s not like it was his choice. It’s understandable that he hates me. I don’t blame him for not coming.”
Jian Yue paused for a moment and then asked, “Wait, you said Jian Xun is sick? No one at home is looking after him? He’s not in any danger, is he?”
“What danger? He’s been weak and sickly since he was a kid—he won’t die. There’s still a housekeeper at home. Don’t worry about him. Even if Death himself came for him today, we’re still celebrating your coming-of-age birthday properly.”
He’s not really part of the Jian family.
He won’t die.
Don’t worry about him.
A single tear fell silently onto the soft pillow.
Jian Xun had always known the Jian family didn’t like him. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to please his parents and brothers, they never liked him.
A sharp pain pierced his chest. His vision spun, going black in waves. Everything began to blur. Just as Jian Yue’s indifferent voice faded from the phone, it slipped from Jian Xun’s hand and fell to the floor.
Was he going to die?
Even if he did, no one would care.
A deep sorrow welled up in Jian Xun’s heart as his consciousness floated aimlessly in a vast, white void. He didn’t know where to go or what to do.
Suddenly, an old man glowing with a halo appeared before him and asked if he wanted to live in a new world—a world where he would meet someone who truly loved him, enjoy endless wealth and luxury, and have one wish granted.
The condition?
He had to save someone first.
A new life?
Seeing the boy’s conflicted and confused expression, the old man patiently listed the benefits once more. Jian Xun, who had never truly lived a full life to begin with, quickly nodded and agreed.
Since the Jian family didn’t want him, then he would go live in a new world.
Without them, he could still live well!
After another moment of chaos and disorientation, Jian Xun reopened his eyes—this time filled with new hope.
And then… he froze.
He was lying inside a small cardboard box, surrounded by a few discarded toys and some empty tin cans, probably placed there to block the rain—but clearly not doing a good job. Last night’s downpour had left everything, including him, soaking wet.
The world around him seemed much bigger now. Jian Xun tried to speak, but what came out instead was a sharp, startled “Meow!”
Wait a minute…
He had turned into a cat!?
Jian Xun looked down at his dirty little paw—it was a dusty, gray feline paw pad. Panicking, he stumbled unsteadily and fell to the ground. At first, he thought it was just because he hadn’t adjusted to the new body yet, but soon he realized—he wasn’t just any kitten.
He was a lame kitten!
Wasn’t he promised a world where someone would love him and he’d enjoy endless wealth and luxury?
Jian Xun was stunned.
Had he been tricked?
His stomach gave a loud growl. The little kitten curled his tail around himself and crouched in place, quietly observing his surroundings. People passing by wore nurse and doctor uniforms—it looked like a hospital. But there weren’t many patients around. The buildings were luxuriously understated in design, suggesting that this was a private wellness center for the wealthy. Jian Xun had spent quite a bit of time in places like this in his past life.
His hunger grew worse. Cautiously, the little kitten peeked out and let out a tentative “meow,” but no one responded.
This kitten had no mother, no caretaker—it had to fend for itself. But with such a small, frail, and injured body, it wasn’t exactly made for hunting. The best it could do was go out and try its luck. Maybe someone would throw it some food?
Jian Xun struggled to climb out of the box and hobbled along on his lame leg. He hadn’t inherited any of the cat’s memories, but his body instinctively told him: where there’s a good smell, there’s food!
And just like that, the kitten spotted others of its kind—cats eating together in a row.
Because of his bad leg, he moved slowly. His little body cautiously crept closer, lowering itself beside the others to watch. Only when they’d almost finished did he dare approach and lick up the scraps.
He even managed to find a bag of unopened biscuits.
Refueled by the food, Jian Xun immediately ran back to his cardboard box.
The life of a stray cat was carefree. When hungry, you dig through the trash. Sometimes, two-legged creatures might feed you. When thirsty, you drink from puddles. On sunny days, you find a nice warm spot to bask in the sun. Life could be lazy and relaxing.
But Jian Xun had a mission—and in his mind, mission failure = death.
He didn’t want to die again.
Jian Xun started to panic.
He didn’t even know where the person he was supposed to save lived!
The old man had only shown him the “main character’s” storyline—and nothing else.
But how could a cat possibly complete a mission?
After a few days of rest and getting used to his body, the little kitten poked his head out again. He couldn’t just sit around waiting for death—he needed to gather information and figure out where he was.
Jian Xun felt like he had walked forever, until he finally saw the name of the facility:
Huapai Tree.
Wasn’t that the place where the protagonist had stayed when he was young and sick?!
Jian Xun was so excited he nearly jumped up—only for the sharp pain in his back left leg to remind him that he was injured and couldn’t go bouncing around.
Now that he had a goal, the little kitten clenched his paw into a fist (at least in spirit), his eyes full of determination.
Today, he would find Room 6.
After packing up his biscuits, the little kitten began checking each room one by one. With his injured leg, the hardest part was navigating the windowsills—but thankfully, they weren’t high, and most had gentle slopes instead of jumps.
When Jian Xun climbed to the fifth room, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly rang in his head—
[Rescue target detected. Current affection level: 0. Corruption level: 0. Story progress: 0.]
Jian Xun immediately began recalling everything he knew about the protagonist, Shang Xuci.
As the heir to Shang Corporation—one of Huaguo’s financial giants—Shang Xuci should have had a smooth, cheat-code-like life from beginning to end.
But he had been sickly since childhood. His parents had married for business reasons. His father was a playboy who stayed out all the time, and the only one who truly loved him was his mother. Tragically, she passed away when he had just started elementary school.
Not long after, his stepmother arrived, bringing with her an older son—two years his senior—and a younger son, just a few months younger than him. The stepmother, a woman active in the entertainment industry, had a charming public face but was vicious behind closed doors. She often showed him a cold attitude and secretly ordered the maids and housekeepers to mistreat him.
The frail little Shang Xuci couldn’t resist and could only endure in silence, gradually developing a personality that was reserved, cold, and quietly obsessive.
After reaching adulthood, Shang Xuci no longer believed in the complicated notion of pure emotions. In the adult world, only interests mattered. Fortunately, he had been taken in and raised by his maternal grandparents during middle and high school, so he hadn’t completely gone astray.
He also had a childhood fiancée who would visit him in the hospital. She brought him a bit of warmth during his most miserable moments—even if her love was never for him, but for his older brother, Shang Ye. Shang Xuci was willing to step back from all of that.
But when the company he had taken over and built from the ground up was about to be taken away because of a sudden relapse of his illness, that was when his descent began.
Especially after his grandfather’s sudden death, Shang Xuci began to uncover layers of conspiracy. His family members were willing to do anything for the sake of inheritance. His father, who had children all over the place, turned a blind eye and allowed him to be harmed. That was the final straw that pushed Shang Xuci into revenge.
He reclaimed the company.
Snatched back his fiancée.
Framed his older brother.
Destroyed his younger brother.
And drove his stepmother insane.
But in the end, Shang Xuci wasn’t the main character of the novel.
As it turned out, his stepmother was the daughter of a powerful family—born from their matriarch and her first love. In order to help her children gain footing, the influential family conspired with people close to Shang Xuci to take everything back from him—including his pride.
Shang Xuci ended up a blind man in a wheelchair. Once a golden child of the heavens, he was reduced to a broken shell. It was as if he had returned to his childhood. The Shang family once again wore their masks of false kindness, generously showcasing their so-called “mercy” in front of him.
The final straw that broke the camel’s back was the death of his grandmother—the only person left in the world who had truly loved him. Even his twisted stepmother eventually told him the truth about her own mother’s death.
That was when Shang Xuci completely snapped.
At a family dinner held by the Shangs, he poured oil and set everything on fire—burning it all down.
And he perished in the flames.
For reasons unknown, the world began to fall apart after Shang Xuci’s death. The Heavenly Dao had no choice but to rewind time, choosing a fated “seedling” with potential to change Shang Xuci’s destiny.
The first time Jian Xun heard Shang Xuci’s story, he was deeply drawn in.
Although the book only mentioned Shang Xuci in passing, Jian Xun—who had always been unwanted and unloved—could completely relate. By the end of the story, he was in tears over Shang Xuci’s tragic fate.
They were both abandoned by family, by the heavens themselves.
He swore to himself that he would complete this mission properly!
…
On the hospital bed, the man’s fingertips twitched ever so slightly.
Shang Xuci slowly opened his eyes. The layout of the room and the medical equipment beside him briefly surprised him, a flicker of confusion flashing across his gaze. Then, he shut his eyes again, trying to sort through the complex emotions surging in his mind.
How laughable…
He had actually been reborn.
At that moment, the door to the hospital room swung open, and a middle-aged woman barged in, grumbling as she carried a food container.
The woman had a sharp, unpleasant face and slammed the container down on the table. She snapped irritably, “Madam told me to bring this. She made it herself. Hurry up and eat.”
This woman, Zhao Mei, was a housekeeper who worked closely with Madam Xu Rong. By the time she arrived at the Shang household, Shang Xuci had already been sent away. She only knew that this “exiled” young master wasn’t favored, so she assumed she could treat him however she pleased.
When he lowered his head in silence, cold and unresponsive, the housekeeper grew bolder and complained directly, “Still acting like you’re some kind of young master? Who are you pretending for?”
The little kitten outside the window frowned.
This woman was outrageous!
Judging by her tone, she was just a worker in the Shang family—what gave her the right to speak so nastily?
The tray held only three dishes and one soup. All vegetarian. And not only that, but Shang Xuci was allergic to the poorly presented pumpkin cakes.
The steamed buns and vegetables were cold, and the chicken soup gave off an odd, unpleasant smell.
He raised his narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes. His pale lips pressed into a thin line. Without a word, he walked over and, in front of the woman, dumped everything into the trash can.
The housekeeper’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How dare you! That was Madam’s kind gesture… No wonder everyone around you ends up dead. Madam was right—you really are a cursed star…”
Shang Xuci suddenly looked up, cutting her off with a cold, emotionless stare.
“Are you Xu Rong’s new lapdog? You bark a lot.”
Zhao Mei froze at the insult. She opened her mouth to curse back, but the way Shang Xuci looked at her made her scalp prickle. Something about his eyes sent chills down her spine.
“Done barking?” he said coolly. “Then get out.”
His tone was always detached, his emotions unreadable—but his words were merciless.
What was that expression?
The way he looked at her—it was as if she were nothing but filth.
Zhao Mei snatched up the empty food container, teeth clenched. “I brought you food out of kindness, and you dare insult me? What a cursed wretch.”
With one last hateful glare, she stormed out, bitter and resentful.
Shang Xuci, still in his white hospital gown, walked to the window. He looked out at the view with a cold gaze—and if his eyes had shifted even a little downward or to the side, he would have spotted the tiny kitten hiding just behind the window, secretly watching him.
He had really been reborn.
A gentle breeze brushed past the window, carrying with it a single pink petal that floated down gracefully. Shang Xuci reached out, and the petal landed softly in the center of his palm. A dazed look appeared on the man’s face.
He had already taken revenge for everything in his past life. There was nothing in that world he was particularly attached to. Shang Xuci couldn’t understand—why had things turned out this way?
Why had he come back?
As he watched the housekeeper’s figure slowly disappear down the corridor, scenes from the past flashed through his mind. Shang Xuci clenched his fists, his expression growing darker as disgust filled his eyes.
Just then, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly echoed in Jian Xun’s mind:
[Warning: Target’s corruption level has reached 100.]
Jian Xun: ??
How did it suddenly jump to 100%?!
He nearly had a heart attack—well, a cat attack!
The little white kitten lost his balance and almost tumbled off the windowsill, his claws scraping against the ledge with a sharp screech.
“Who’s there? Come out.”
Shang Xuci’s voice rang out.
The sneaky little white kitten steadied himself, then carefully took a small step forward.
“Meow~”
Shang Xuci looked toward the lower left corner of the window, where a filthy little kitten let out a soft, milky cry. His gaze paused.
The kitten moved.
It nudged a small biscuit toward him with a dusty gray paw.