Chapter 455: He

Gu Zhiyao was beautiful, cheerful, and open-hearted; when she smiled, she looked like a camellia, and upon arriving at the TV station, she instantly drew the attention of several unmarried young men, several of whom planned to court her.

But.

Seeing the car parked at the entrance of the broadcasting building, their expressions turned bleak.

Forget it, she’s out of our league.

Yaobao noticed the people lingering around her had suddenly dwindled, and was quite puzzled; she told her family about it when she got home.

Lin Zhao’s gaze was subtle.

Such incredible obliviousness.

Candles for Yaobao’s future partner.

Gu Zhihang: “...”

See? I told you a grand entrance works.

Drove out a few toads.

At least they know when to retreat.

“...Really? Aren’t you happy no one’s bothering you?”

Yaobao pinched the soft flesh on her cheeks. “Not really.”

“Then that’s settled—keep away from those with ill intentions.” Gu Zhihang’s expression turned serious.

Gu Chenghuai chimed in, “Listen to your second brother. You’re still young, no need to rush into relationships. If someone asks you out for a movie or dinner, turn him down. Female colleagues are fine.”

Yaobao’s face flushed instantly. “Ah, I’m not dating anyone!”

Having finished speaking, she ran off to the courtyard to admire the flowers.

Lin Zhao watched her husband with a faint, knowing smile.

Gu Chenghuai’s straight shoulders stiffened.

His stern face softened into a weary smile as he gently pinched her fingertip. “Today’s youth are restless. Unlike our time—once you chose someone, it was for life.”

Even though he never gossiped, he knew romance was now a trend. For the young, dating was dating, marriage was marriage—you could date countless people before settling down.

He didn’t want his pampered daughter deceived.

Lin Zhao clenched her fist and punched his arm. “Why aren’t you worried about Ercai?”

“Ercai?” Gu Chenghuai feigned astonishment. “He’s as sharp as a fox—who could trick him? I’m more afraid he’ll trick some good family’s daughter.”

Lin Zhao punched him again. “Being smart isn’t bad! Better to trick others than be tricked yourself.”

Gu Chenghuai clasped her soft fist, a low laugh escaping his lips. “Yes, you’re right about everything.”

Gu Zhihang couldn’t stand his cloying father. He stood up, stretched, and headed back to his room.

I'm planning to catch some sleep.

This sleep was uneasy.

He felt like he was dreaming—or watching a movie—

Strange scenes multiplied like stars, all tied to the Gu and Lin families, weighing his heart down like lead.

Gu Zhihang was still Gu Zhihang, but at age five, he lost his mother, his father vanished, and his grandparents in the old house didn’t survive the winter...

Sancai was kidnapped.

His maternal grandfather lost his only daughter, heartbroken, and died in regret; his grandmother, unable to bear the loss of her husband, grew weaker and passed away. After she died, the Lin family seemed cursed—labeled with a bad class status, bullied relentlessly, dying or injured one after another.

The Gu family fared no better, barely scraping by.

A child without parents really did live like a weed.

Hunger was unbearable.

Even in the dream, the hollow, burning sensation in his stomach was painfully clear.

What came after, Gu Zhihang refused to recall.

How could he ever become that kind of lickspittle!!

That couldn’t be him.

What right did Lu Baozhen have? Even if his eyes were blind, it was impossible!

To be tormented endlessly by Lu Baozhen—and still hand over a million in assets to her? How could that be!!

Unless he’d been diagnosed with ten years of brain damage, he would never do something so laughable.

And Yaobao.

She’d become obsessively infatuated with Jiang Rong—and was cruelly betrayed by him after he conspired with Lu Baozhen, abandoned, and died a wretched death.

“Impossible!”

“Absolutely impossible!”

“What the hell kind of dream is this?!”

Gu Zhihang cursed aloud in the dream.

Suddenly, a figure appeared before him.

He looked nearly identical to Gu Zhihang.

But his aura was gloomy, sinister, radiating a mad desire to destroy the entire world.

He looked at Gu Zhihang, his crimson lips curling slightly. “Impossible?” The word clung to his lips, spoken in a whisper.

Gu Zhihang heard it clearly.

“...Who are you?” His expression turned grave.

The man slowly advanced, closing in until his face nearly touched Gu Zhihang’s. “Look at my face. Don’t you recognize it, Gu, Zhi, Hang?”

Gu Zhihang’s pupils shrank sharply.

“You... are another version of me?” He dared to guess, based on the fantasy novels he’d read.

“Clever. No surprise you’re another me.” The man grinned excitedly, emphasizing, “Yes, I am you, you are me—we’re the same person.”

“But...” His tone shifted, his eyes filled with envy as he stared at Gu Zhihang. “You’re luckier than I am.”

“In this world, you’re doted on by your whole family, grown into someone carefree and untroubled... while I...”

“Heaven is unjust, don’t you agree?”

Gu Zhihang: “?”

Gu Zhihang’s mental CPU was about to melt.

Father, mother—my son must be going insane!

How could he dream something so absurd?

He pinched himself hard—pain!

The pain was real.

What was happening?

“You...” Gu Zhihang stepped back. The more panicked he felt, the calmer his mind became. He took two steps back, eyes fixed on the man before him, his gaze heavy.

Something’s wrong.

He pinched his hand—pain. This didn’t feel like a dream.

“Why are you in my dream?”

The man regarded him calmly, sitting casually on a chair that had appeared out of nowhere.

“Rather than ask how I got here, ask why I came.” He smiled without warmth, his malice unhidden.

Gu Zhihang frowned. “What do you want?”

Not knowing his intent, he was on high guard.

“What do I want?” The ‘Gu Zhihang’ sat there, eyes blazing with hatred as he burst into mad laughter. “I saw you happy, whole, and I grew jealous. I came here to take your place.”

Gu Zhihang’s face turned pale.

So this is a thief come to steal the fruit!

He opened his mouth to speak—but the seated man lunged forward, pressing a finger to his forehead. Gu Zhihang passed out.

The man lying on the bed suddenly woke.

He sat bolt upright, alert, scanning his surroundings.

He raised a hand, touching his forehead—the sensation of a bullet piercing through was crystal clear. He had died... so what was this?

He stood, moving by muscle memory, opened his wardrobe, and stared into the mirror—reflecting a young man, confident, sharp-eyed, defiant.

Instantly.

Memories surged.

He remembered.

So this was another, luckier version of himself.

He’d known before arriving that this version was hundreds, even thousands of times luckier—but now he understood: it wasn’t hundreds or thousands. All the fortune in this world seemed poured into him, so much so that even envy felt impossible.

“Dong dong dong!!”

A knock came from outside.

“Who is it?” ‘Gu Zhihang’ instinctively snapped, wary.

Outside, Lin Zhao paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “It’s me, Zhihang. Did you have a nightmare?”

‘Gu Zhihang’’s eyes churned with countless emotions.

...Mother?!

He rushed to the door, forcing back his trembling, took a deep breath, and opened it, facing Lin Zhao.

It’s Mama.

He had dreamed of her countless times; he would never forget her warm embrace, her gentle voice—how she would stir-fry eggs for them, bake delicious flatbreads, and always wonder if they were hungry or cold…

After Mama was gone, no one cared whether her children lived or died.

“Mama.” Gu Zhihang’s voice was hoarse, thick with countless complex emotions.

He watched Lin Zhao with careful eyes, like a child lost and unsure.

Lin Zhao murmured to herself.

She knew her own son better than anyone—this wasn’t her second son, no matter how hard he tried to play the part; a mother could tell at a glance.

Besides, Zhihang hadn’t called her Mama in years.

“Mm.” Lin Zhao smiled, her expression natural. “What’s wrong? Had a nightmare? Don’t be afraid—we’re all here.”

Gu Zhihang murmured “Mm.”

That made it even more obvious.

Zhihang talked a lot—he played the aloof CEO outside, but at home he was a chatterbox.

Lin Zhao’s certainty grew.

This person wore her son’s body, but his origin was unknown.

But.

She glanced at the red cord on Zhihang’s wrist and guessed this soul meant no harm—Zhihang was still intact, and he would return.

“Hungry? Go wash up—dinner’s ready.” Lin Zhao patted Gu Zhihang’s arm casually, urging him to clean up, muttering, “Your Aunt Qiao’s been away these days, so I cooked myself—I haven’t made food in a while, I don’t know if you’ll still like it…”

She couldn’t let her son’s body go hungry.

Lin Zhao had strong acceptance skills—after all, she herself had died and come back to life.

Gu Zhihang looked at Mama, his eyes automatically burning hot. “I like it. I love your cooking most—anything you make, I love.”

Afraid she’d notice something odd, he hurried along his memory to the bathroom.

Lin Zhao stood frozen. For some reason, hearing those words made her chest tight, suffocating.

The feeling vanished instantly—before she could probe deeper, it was gone.

Lin Zhao went to the kitchen, boiled porridge, then thought for a moment and began steaming buns with what she had.

At noon, Yaobao came home for lunch.

Seeing the buns, she bounced happily.

“You actually made buns! So fragrant—I’m having three!”

Lin Zhao smiled at her. “Go wash your hands. After lunch, I’ll drive you to work.”

“Really?” Yaobao exclaimed happily.

“Of course not fake,” Lin Zhao teased.

Yaobao skipped off to the bathroom.

She greeted her second brother. “Second brother, you’re still home?”

Seeing the damp strands of hair on Gu Zhihang’s forehead, she widened her eyes. “You didn’t get up until now? Tsk tsk—no wonder the big boss is so relaxed.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she slipped past him into the bathroom.

She realized she hadn’t gotten a scalp flick. She paused.

Strange.

Is second brother in a bad mood?

Gu Zhihang watched her back until the door shut.

Thinking of Yaobao’s bright smile, he tugged at his lips in a faint smile.

His sister deserved a life this radiant.

At the dining table.

The family of three began eating.

Gu Zhihang bit into the buns his mother had made, and his eyes warmed again.

Having Mama around—how good it was.

Yaobao chewed her bun, staring at her second brother.

“Second brother, are you having business trouble? Or are you just in a bad mood?”

Gu Zhihang blinked. “…Neither.”

“I don’t believe you. You seem weird,” Yaobao frowned.

She never considered her brother’s soul had been replaced—she only thought he was in a bad mood.

“Where’s it weird? I’m still me,” Gu Zhihang said calmly.

This body was Zhihang’s. Even if family sensed something off, they couldn’t prove anything.

He glanced at the sleeping Zhihang in his consciousness sea, paused mid-bite, clamped the meat in his mouth, and felt a bitter envy.

Seeing the expression on Gu Zhihang’s face, Lin Zhao felt a strange pang of pity.

Recalling his reactions upon seeing her and Yaobao, her heart trembled—she had a bold guess.

Is this still her son—but the one doomed to a tragic life?

Could that be possible?

Gu Zhihang lowered his head, cradling the bun in both hands, chewing earnestly, cheeks puffed, long eyelashes casting a dark shadow beneath his eyes.

This was exactly how Hengbao ate buns.

It was him.

Her voice trembled faintly, the shake hidden well: “…Second son, eat slowly—there’s plenty more.”

Thinking of her son’s fate in the original novel, tears nearly spilled.

She didn’t know what price he’d paid to earn even this one glimpse of them.

Gu Zhihang looked up, hearing that “second son”—he froze, his eyes swirling with complex emotion.

“Mm.”

“Mama’s buns are delicious—I could eat them forever and never get tired.”

But he had no such luck.

“If you like them, Mama will make you buns for life.”

Both mother and son knew it was just comforting nonsense—but Lin Zhao felt that even this small comfort might bring her second son a moment of joy, and that was worth it.

Yaobao laughed. “Why are you suddenly calling Mama? So strange—we’ve always called her Mommy. Second brother, you’re acting weird today. Are you reminiscing about hard times?”

She could only think of this one reason.

Gu Zhihang’s acting was mediocre—he never intended to play the real Zhihang.

His sister handed him the ladder—he stepped down easily.

“Yeah, reminiscing. Is that not allowed…”

Yaobao smiled, lips pressed. “Of course it’s allowed. Boss Gu says so, it’s law—I wouldn’t dare object.”

…

Gu Chenghuai, busy as he was, also noticed Zhihang’s oddness.

Seeing no extra reaction from Lin Zhao, he didn’t press—only asked: “Did the second son get into trouble?”

“No, second son’s been well-behaved,” Lin Zhao immediately defended.

She hadn’t acknowledged him because she feared breaking the illusion might hurt him.

Mother and son had an unspoken understanding.

Lin Zhao also knew he wouldn’t stay long.

She’d seen the note he left—just one sentence:

“Every day apart is a countdown; the day we meet needs no alarm.”

“He does seem strange,” Gu Chenghuai said.

He’d seen him—though he tried to suppress his emotions, he still looked like a startled, bristling beast.

“I didn’t provoke him, did I?” he pressed.

“How would I know if you provoked him?” Lin Zhao rolled her eyes. He acted like that—maybe that man did something deserving of a beating in his world.

Gu Chenghuai: “… ”

“I really didn’t provoke him,” he insisted seriously.

After explaining, he looked at Gu Zhihang. “Gu Zhihang, tell your mother yourself—did I provoke you?”

Gu Zhihang’s gaze was dark, his voice unshakably firm: “Yes, you did.”