Chapter 1: Returning to Age Seven

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Wen Xiao died in a twenty-square-meter basement; in just one more month, it would have been his eighteenth birthday.

But when he opened his eyes again, he did not see the so-called "afterlife." Instead, he found himself in a sunlit classroom.

The late autumn sunlight streamed through the glass window, filtering through the lush ginkgo leaves, revealing a clear blue sky, as beautiful as an oil painting.

Around him came the noisy laughter and chatter of children, their young and tender faces flashing before his eyes—completely unfamiliar scenes.

Wen Xiao lowered his head and saw a brand-new homework notebook on the desk, freshly signed.

Grade One, Class Two; Wen Xiao.

The handwriting was crooked but clearly written stroke by stroke, still legible.

At the center of the notebook was a school emblem labeled "Sulent Noble Academy," with a line of elegant British cursive beneath.

He had been reborn. Having died at eighteen, he had returned ten years earlier, now a seven-year-old primary school student.

The others were all of a similar age, curious about everything, and some voices drifted to his ears.

"What's the name of the new student? I heard from the teacher that he was ill and on leave for two months, just now starting school."

"I think it's… Wen Xiao, right?"

"After the teacher brought him to the classroom, he just laid his head on the desk and slept… Hey, look, he's awake now."

Wen Xiao felt like a monkey in a zoo, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers. Despite the curious gazes, his expression remained unchanged, though soon drowsiness overwhelmed him again, and he unknowingly fell asleep on the desk.

He vaguely thought that if what he saw was a dream, a nap might wake him up.

He remembered lying in the cold, damp basement before. November’s chill was biting outside, but the basement felt even colder.

Due to chronic insomnia and anemia, combined with days without food, he had fainted directly in the basement.

No one would find or notice him; quietly, he might have died in that small room, undiscovered for who knows how long.

As a cannon fodder character in the original novel, this was his fate.

Poor and destitute, with nowhere to turn.

Dying unnoticed in a forgotten corner—that was an inescapable destiny.

Yes, in the book.

As his body grew limp and powerless, though his mind remained faintly conscious, many scenes flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

Some he had seen; others he hadn’t. It seemed like the entire novel’s content replayed before him.

Only upon death did he realize he lived inside a boys’ love novel.

Playing the part of a universally despised cannon fodder.

Though the term "boys’ love" was new to him, he guessed from the plot it meant male-male romance. Yet, to him, male-male, female-female, or male-female—there was no real difference.

His social relations were frighteningly clean—no friends, no close family ties—perfectly fitting the cannon fodder role’s mold.

Because cannon fodder characters need neither much screen time nor elaborate descriptions.

Wen Xiao vaguely heard a tapping sound—someone knocking on his desk.

He opened his eyes to the familiar classroom, but now there was another child before him.

The boy wore a light blue school uniform, neat without a single wrinkle, with fox-like eyes that seemed to be smiling whenever he looked at Wen Xiao, giving off an approachable aura.

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Though young, his big, bright eyes did not reveal much of the upward slant at the corners; it was easy to tell this boy would be handsome when grown.

Yet those eyes felt strangely familiar to Wen Xiao.

"Classmate, you’re sitting in my seat," the boy said softly, deliberately lowering his voice.

Still groggy from just waking, Wen Xiao didn’t mind being roused by such a gentle voice.

He glanced to the side—he had just been led here and sat down without noticing that both desks looked untouched, as if no one had been sitting there.

Silently, he got up and moved to the adjacent seat, thinking to himself, so he actually had a deskmate.

"Isn’t that Song Jingbai? He came to class today?"

"Didn’t he get into a fight with Huo Zhanyan yesterday? Huo Zhanyan didn’t come today."

"Huo Zhanyan’s parents took him home. I heard Song Jingbai’s family never showed up, so he went home on his own."

"Go home by yourself? I don’t want to attend class even one day!"

"Then why don’t you go fight too."

"Honestly, it’s been two months since school started, and I never thought Song Jingbai would fight anyone..."

Wen Xiao was momentarily stunned—not because the story of two first graders fighting interested him, but because the two main characters' names sounded so familiar.

Song Jingbai, Huo Zhanyan.

Memories long forgotten slowly surfaced again.

The book’s story took place in a noble boys’ school, revolving around four legendary figures—the so-called F4—who drove countless boys and girls crazy, and their complicated romantic entanglements with a protagonist from an ordinary family.

As cannon fodder, Wen Xiao’s role was to act as a catalyst in the love story between the F4 and the protagonist, with little description or significance.

And these two names belonged to two among the F4... could it be a coincidence?

An upperclassman brought over Wen Xiao’s textbook; uninterested, he stuffed it into his desk. Then a familiar voice sounded again.

"New deskmate, can we share the textbook during class?"

He looked up and met those eyes again—both the gentle tone and the polite request left no room for complaint.

But this time, for some inexplicable reason, Wen Xiao found this face irritating no matter how he looked at it, and bluntly turned his head away: "No."

And "new deskmate"? Did this boy constantly change seats?

Having realized two of the young F4 might be near him, Wen Xiao couldn’t sit still and walked straight out of the classroom.

"Did Song Jingbai say something again that made the new deskmate storm off?"

"I bet Wen Xiao won’t last a week; he’ll ask the teacher to change his seat soon!"

After leaving the classroom, Wen Xiao headed straight to the office. Even though he didn’t know where it was, he had no qualms about asking others.

At the office door, he overheard a young woman’s voice inside.

"Sorry, teacher. Zhanyan caused trouble at school again. His father and I gave him a good scolding when we got home... Yes, how could he fight classmates? We’ve told him many times... Sorry for troubling you again, but I don’t know where this bad habit came from..."

"Hey! What are you eavesdropping for?" a sharp voice came from beside him, lowered as if to scare someone.

Wen Xiao turned and saw a face swollen and puffy, a bandage stuck on the nose...

With big eyes glaring, despite the swelling making the face look smaller, a first grader might genuinely be frightened by this appearance.

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But to Wen Xiao, this was clearly a pig’s face—swollen and pig-like.

The boy glared at Wen Xiao, incredulous: "Are you laughing? Mocking me? You’re dead meat!"

Wen Xiao didn’t think he’d laughed and ignored him. In that moment, a beautiful woman in a qipao emerged from the office.

She wore a fox fur stole, dressed like an elegant lady, but her manner was fierce.

She grabbed the swollen-eared boy by the ear and scolded, "Huo Zhanyan! I just talked to your teacher, and you’re bullying classmates again? Dead meat? If you cause trouble again, you’re the one who’s dead! Always calling parents—how am I supposed to save face? Can you be a bit better?"

"I didn’t bully him! He was eavesdropping and even made fun of me!" Huo Zhanyan pointed at Wen Xiao, complaining.

The woman didn’t really pull hard; she was both angry and helpless with her unruly child.

Their family was fine... how did they get such a rebellious brat? No matter how annoying, he was still her own son.

She looked at Wen Xiao standing quietly nearby, expressionless but beautiful and obedient.

Even when bullied by Huo Zhanyan, he didn’t cry or complain; he was small and thin, unlike Huo Zhanyan, who was the biggest among peers—a little tiger.

By contrast, this well-behaved, sensible child stirred a protective instinct in her.

"Little classmate, don’t be afraid. This is Auntie’s phone number. If Huo Zhanyan dares to bully you, go to the teacher, or call Auntie directly. Auntie isn’t a difficult parent. If you tell Auntie, Auntie will stand up for you..." She bent slightly, took a business card from her purse, and placed it in Wen Xiao’s hand.

Yet, such a cute child had been called to the office many times, but she had never seen him.

And looking at him, it was clear he’d be bullied by Huo Zhanyan.

"But I’ve never seen you before. Which class are you in? Don’t worry, Auntie isn’t a bad person."

Wen Xiao was stunned by this unexpected turn. At that moment, the noise at the door drew the attention of the office.

The young man who had led him to the new class came out.

He wore thick black-rimmed glasses and a linen-colored knitted sweater, looking scholarly and gentle.

"Mrs. Huo..." The homeroom teacher smiled helplessly, thinking Wen Xiao froze out of fear, and gently pulled him aside, "This is our classmate Wen Xiao. He was on sick leave for two months due to illness and hadn’t reported to class, so it’s normal you haven’t seen him."

"Sick... and in the same class as Zhanyan?"

Wen Xiao inexplicably felt Mrs. Huo’s gaze on him grew warmer. Glancing aside, he caught Huo Zhanyan’s fierce eyes—just as intense. In some ways, mother and son were quite alike.

Once inside the office, the homeroom teacher adjusted his glasses and was a bit surprised to see Wen Xiao had followed in.

"Wen Xiao, what brings you to see the teacher?"

Wen Xiao hadn’t forgotten his goal. Though he’d already met Song Jingbai and Huo Zhanyan, he still wanted to confirm with his own eyes.

Were those really their names? Maybe it was just a similar sound.

"Teacher, I want to see the class roster."