The night was heavy, and the sky above Jiangcheng hung like a suffocating curtain.
Li Chang'an stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a divorce agreement in his hand. His gaze was cold, his fingers pale from the force of his grip. Outside, the endless streams of traffic reflected in his eyes, yet failed to stir even the slightest ripple of emotion.
Inwardly, however, a storm of rage boiled.
In his previous life, he and his father-in-law, Su Jianguo, had fought desperately to defend the family corporation—only to have it ripped away by a nobody.
The cruelest part? That "nobody" was a young man pampered and elevated by his own wife, Su Yuan, and mother-in-law, Lin Qiuyan.
For him, the mother and daughter forced Li Chang'an to surrender his shares, humiliated him publicly, and even allowed that shameless interloper to mock him at a banquet, trampling both him and Su Jianguo beneath his feet.
"You're nothing but trash," the boy sneered, raising his glass high. "Can't even keep your own woman, and you still think you're fit to control a corporation?"
The laughter was like knives stabbing into his heart. That night, Li Chang'an and Su Jianguo both died wretchedly—disgraced, beaten, and unable to rest in peace.
Pathetic. Ridiculous.
But this time, things were different.
This time, he had been reborn—dragged back to the very eve of his nightmare.
…
"Chang'an."
The low, weary voice came from outside the door.
Li Chang'an calmly folded the agreement away and opened the door. Standing there was Su Jianguo, once a titan of Jiangcheng's business world, now carrying the exhaustion of years in the lines of his face.
"Father," Li Chang'an greeted, his voice low but tinged with suppressed emotion.
Su Jianguo frowned. "You're acting strangely today. What's on your mind?"
Li Chang'an drew in a deep breath, then met his father-in-law's eyes directly.
"Father, we must fake our deaths. Immediately. Then, we sell short the company's stock, cash out, and disappear."
"What?" Su Jianguo's face darkened. "That corporation is my life's work. You want me to destroy it with my own hands?"
Li Chang'an's gaze sharpened, his tone like steel. "Do you remember that young man, Zhou Ye? The one getting close to me… and to your daughter?"
Su Jianguo narrowed his eyes. "Zhou Ye?"
"Yes! He's no mere plaything. He will destroy us. If you don't believe me, then three months from now you and I will be trampled beneath his heel, humiliated to death in front of everyone!"
The room fell into a heavy silence.
Su Jianguo stared at him, as though trying to pierce through his very soul. Finally, in a rough, hoarse voice, he asked, "How do you know this?"
Li Chang'an's throat tightened. He knew words alone would not convince the old man.
So he spoke of the final secret—Su Jianguo's dying words from their past life. Words no one else could possibly know.
Su Jianguo's entire body trembled, his pupils contracting violently, his breathing quick and ragged. "You… you've been reborn as well?"
The air froze.
Li Chang'an's heart pounded. He had thought himself the only one. To learn his father-in-law had also returned—it was beyond belief.
For a long moment, silence reigned.
Then Su Jianguo suddenly threw his head back and laughed, a wild, unrestrained laugh filled with bitterness and exhilaration. "Good! Excellent! Heaven itself must have pitied us, and granted us this chance!"
His laughter echoed through the study, filled with a fierce kind of joy.
He gripped Li Chang'an's shoulder with iron fingers, his eyes like blades. "Since you already know how the story ends, then we'll do it your way. Fake our deaths. Cash out! This time, that mother and daughter, and that bastard boy—they'll suffer worse than death!"
Li Chang'an's chest burned with fury and resolve.
This time, united, they would repay betrayal with fire and blood.
…
The next morning, Jiangcheng First Hospital was a storm of chaos.
Li Chang'an was wheeled into the emergency ward on a stretcher, wearing a patient's gown, face pale as death. The entire wing was sealed off. Outside, reporters swarmed, cameras flashing like lightning, but none were allowed near.
Half an hour later, the doors opened.
A stretcher emerged, draped in a white sheet.
"Time of death—7:23 a.m.," the doctor declared flatly.
The death certificate was handed to the family.
With a sharp cry, Su Yuan collapsed, weeping bitterly. Lin Qiuyan wrapped her in trembling arms, sobbing loudly. The hallway echoed with the sound of their grief.
Everyone watching believed they were shattered with sorrow.
But when they turned away, for the briefest instant, a glimmer of unrestrained satisfaction flickered in their eyes.
The tears were real enough. But the relief, the hidden delight—it was undeniable.
Exactly as before. Exactly as in his past life.
But this time, Li Chang'an had already prepared.
…
That night, at the Jiangcheng Funeral Hall.
The refrigerated drawer of the morgue slid open with