Chapter 979

*Salted Fish Reborn* (1)

That day, he was playing mahjong.

Somehow, he drew a winning hand, but forgot that he was actually a corporate slave who had been working overtime for a week straight. Before the money even reached his pocket, he got excited and dropped dead on the spot.

When he woke up again, it was summer.

The summer fifteen years ago.

He was only fifteen years old.

In the mirror, he still had two pimples on his face.

It's fine, that didn't affect his handsomeness.

He smiled confidently at the mirror, his smile as bright as if it were a lifetime ago.

Fifteen years of time was indeed like a lifetime ago.

This dream was realistic enough.

Why was there a bit of sadness?

Thirty-year-old Zhang Luo hadn't seen his former self in his dreams for a long time.

Sunlight spilled in from outside the window, warm and cozy.

It was the kind of sunlight that only exists in the summer of his memories.

This seemed to be a Saturday or Sunday afternoon; waking up, the house was filled with a quietness of no one around.

Mom was probably battling at the mahjong table again, Dad was either fishing or chatting with people.

He was still half-awake, his eyelids heavy.

He couldn't help but sigh, fortunately he was young at this time, otherwise his eyelids would definitely droop like a pug's.

He rubbed his face.

Tsk tsk.

So tender.

However, looking at the mirror for too long was also boring.

He wasn't a woman, where one face could be looked at in the mirror until the end of time.

In the summer fifteen years ago, there were no smartphones, and computers hadn't occupied every household so fiercely.

It wasn't that his family couldn't afford a computer, but at this time, in the perception of many parents, computers were a cancer—

His parents were worried he would become an internet-addicted teenager and firmly resisted.

Couldn't go online.

Fortunately, although there was no computer, there was still cola in the fridge.

At this time, his mom hadn't heard that "cola kills sperm" and was willing to satisfy the superficial happiness of her son within a limited range.

Unlike fifteen years later, when cola became something Ms. Liang Fengying "strictly prohibited."

Was it an illusion?

Why did it feel like the cola fifteen years ago tasted better?

Zhang Luo burped.

In the dream, every detail of the house was clearly visible.

Those things that had long been blurred and forgotten floated vividly before his eyes.

Even including the calendar hanging on the wall.

That kind of old-fashioned calendar—

One look and you could tell his mom brought it back from work, with the words "Xu Yang City Health Bureau" printed on it.

—Uh, there might be a misunderstanding here.

Let me explain, his mom wasn't some civil servant at the Health Bureau.

His mom just contracted the cafeteria of this Health Bureau, just a small individual business owner.

It was a good living, working five days and resting two with the civil servants, with a stable income.

So, on weekends, his mom could stand guard at the mahjong table—

Either killing everyone in sight.

Or being defeated like a fighting cock.

Clearly, she had killed everyone in sight today.

When she came back, she was humming a little tune, with joy in her eyes and brows.

"Mom, how much did you win?" Looking at Ms. Liang Fengying who was changing her shoes in the entryway, Zhang Luo asked.

Ms. Liang Fengying turned her head, and her face, originally backlit, suddenly bumped clearly into Zhang Luo's line of sight.

Zhang Luo was stunned.

This was his mom fifteen years ago.

Surprisingly so young.

Her face was smooth, without wrinkles, and she had even put on a little makeup, looking beautiful, with the youthful spirit and heroic posture of her youth.

"What do you want to eat tonight?" His mom asked happily, "KFC or McDonald's?"

Zhang Luo: "... How about you cook me some dumplings."

He didn't go to college in Xu Yang.

He went to Yuming.

After graduation, he stayed in Yuming.

If he wanted to eat a meal of dumplings wrapped by his mom, he basically had to wait until he went back during the holidays, or his mom came to Yuming—

Such times, throughout the year, could be counted on one's fingers.