Chapter 2 The Number You Have Dialed Is Dead, Please Reincarnate and Try Again

Chapter 2: The Number You Dialed Is Deceased, Please Reincarnate and Try Again

Jiang Ruotang leaned in to look at Lu Guifan. After years in the entertainment industry, he had seen plenty of attractive people, but there was something uniquely beautiful about this Lu Guifan.

Perhaps it was his approaching death that altered Jiang Ruotang’s perceptions.

Time slipped away in the contours of Lu Guifan’s brows and eyes. The world spun noisily around them, yet he remained like frost preserved in ice, unchanging.

If he had been the subject of his father’s photography, what kind of classic shots could have been born?

Suddenly, Jiang Ruotang felt blind. How could he have ever thought Bai Yingchuan was irreplaceable?

Then he laughed at himself. *Jiang Ruotang, ah, Jiang Ruotang, you’re dying, and yet you still care about whether someone is tall or short, fat or thin.*

“Relax, I’m not dying,” Jiang Ruotang said, biting into the apple.

“Stage two lung cancer. You really are confident.”

Jiang Ruotang quickly added, “I mean I won’t take my own life.”

Once he stopped orbiting like a satellite around Bai Yingchuan, a fierce desire to cherish the people before him ignited in Jiang Ruotang’s fast-fading life.

He had once been full of prejudice and resistance toward his stepmother, Zhao Yunshu. But the day after learning Jiang Ruotang had cancer, half her hair turned white.

By all logic, when a person was gone, the tea would go cold. Jiang Huaiyuan was already gone—no one would blame her if she ignored Jiang Ruotang’s fate. Yet this woman tried everything to get him treatment.

From the moment they met, Zhao Yunshu’s son, Zhao Zhangfeng, had fought Jiang Ruotang like cats and dogs.

But ever since Jiang Ruotang was hospitalized, no matter how sharply Jiang Ruotang provoked him, Zhao Zhangfeng took it quietly, coming to the hospital every day, rain or shine, to bring him meals.

Once, Jiang Ruotang fainted in the bathroom, scaring Zhao Zhangfeng half to death. As he carried Jiang Ruotang back to bed, shouting for the doctor, Jiang Ruotang thought for a moment he was headed for the crematorium. When he opened his eyes, Zhao Zhangfeng’s unshaven face was the first thing he saw.

It was also the first time Jiang Ruotang ever said “I’m sorry” to Zhao Zhangfeng.

Zhao Zhangfeng was so stunned he froze. “You’re apologizing to me? Are you on death’s door? Is this the final lucidity?”

“For fuck’s sake—” Jiang Ruotang almost regretted saying it. If not for his failing health, he would’ve thrown down with Zhao Zhangfeng like before.

Later, chemotherapy made Jiang Ruotang’s hair fall out even more, leaving it sparse and patchy. He simply shaved it all off.

Zhao Zhangfeng bought him several expensive wigs online, but no matter how he wore them, they looked like haystacks on a billiard ball.

“Return them! They’re ugly, I don’t want them.” Jiang Ruotang didn’t want to waste money on such things. “Put that money toward a house or a girlfriend.”

Somehow, without realizing it, Jiang Ruotang had started worrying about Zhao Zhangfeng’s future, like an older brother worrying about his younger sibling.

Zhao Zhangfeng lowered his head and muttered, “Even if I save my whole life, I still won’t afford a house. I’m just a temp gym teacher—who’d want to be with me?”

Hearing that, Jiang Ruotang’s heart ached.

If Zhao Zhangfeng hadn’t been robbed of his sports scholarship ten years ago, he wouldn’t just be a middle school P.E. teacher now.

But life had no “what ifs,” and no turning back.

Propping his chin on his hand, Jiang Ruotang studied Zhao Zhangfeng’s handsome features and said earnestly, “Zhang Feng, you’re 1.9 meters tall with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, long legs, and big, beautiful eyes brimming with innocent charm. Maybe… you should switch lanes.”

“Huh? What tracks?” Zhao Zhangfeng looked up, curiosity gleaming in his clear eyes.

“Find a rich cougar to marry. Then I’d rest easy.”

“Is Lu Guifan away on business, so no one can keep you in check?”

Jiang Ruotang was met with Zhao Zhangfeng’s fury—no, more like a half-hearted punch.

Jiang Ruotang saw Lu Guifan again over three months later. He was still wearing that dark trench coat, now paired with a knit cap and thin-framed glasses. The lenses were so thin Jiang Ruotang could clearly see the depth in his eyes.

Lu Guifan brought Jiang Ruotang a wig. The hair looked natural, soft yet resilient, with a soothing feel.

Excited, Jiang Ruotang tried it on in front of the mirror and said to Lu Guifan, “This is the most presentable I’ve been since getting sick.”

“Mm.” Lu Guifan gave a soft noise of acknowledgment.

Jiang Ruotang lowered his head, eyes burning as tears fell.

He knew—this wig was made from Lu Guifan’s own hair. He could place the scent.

Jiang Ruotang’s life was on borrowed time, yet each day felt fulfilling. He read, continued drawing, and even watched Lu Guifan’s lecture videos.

But one morning, he woke up to more than a dozen missed calls—all from Bai Yingchuan.

“Tch, the current top star calling me—wondering if I’m dead yet? Should he burn joss paper for me?” Jiang Ruotang laughed.

Opening WeChat, he was shocked to find several messages from Bai Yingchuan too.

*Guess you really do see everything if you live long enough.*

“Ruo Tang, how’s your health? Do you want to come back to work? They say work can give you stability, give life a focus.”

*Hah, Lin Lu, you’ve got some nerve. I blocked you when I got fired—how shameless can you be, still trying to exploit me?*

“Ying Chuan misses you. He’s not used to being without you. He’s vying for the male lead in Director Fei’s new film—if he gets it, his status will rise among serious actors. Want to join? It won’t be too taxing. Just stay by Ying Chuan’s side and chat with Director Fei.”

Director Fei had always despised sweet-talking vipers like Lin Lu and considered Bai Yingchuan a pretty face with no substance.

Last time, without Jiang Ruotang name-dropping his father to ask for help, Bai Yingchuan wouldn’t have even landed a supporting role. Now that Jiang Ruotang was gone, Director Fei couldn’t be bothered to give them the time of day. The entire industry was watching as Lin Lu, who had taken credit for Jiang Ruotang’s efforts, was left flailing.

“Ruo Tang, Ying Chuan really needs you now.”

Reading that, Jiang Ruotang could practically hear Lin Lu’s fake-sweet voice. He nearly laughed till he choked.

After a decade of scam warnings, Jiang Ruotang had finally developed immunity to the phrase *“Ying Chuan needs you.”*

He promptly changed his WeChat status to: *The number you dialed is deceased. Please reincarnate and try again.*

The moment he updated it, a new message from Bai Yingchuan popped up: “I know you’re on your phone. Why aren’t you answering?”

Jiang Ruotang scratched his chin. *Oh? That tone—definitely the real Bai Yingchuan.*

Then, he scrolled to a post from that shipwreck-avatar account: *If someone makes you unhappy, cut them out of your world completely.*

Jiang Ruotang chuckled and promptly blocked Bai Yingchuan across all platforms.

*See you in another lifetime. Feel free to have a rave on my grave!*

Today was Jiang Ruotang’s birthday. Lying in bed, he scrolled through videos of Lu Guifan’s lectures and academic interviews.

“Sigh, if my high school teachers had been as handsome as Lu Guifan, I’d have gotten into a top university ages ago.”

“Not unless surgery removes your hopeless romantic streak first.”

Lu Guifan's voice reached him.

Before he knew it, it was already 8 p.m., and Lu Guifan was off work.

"Get rid of love obsession? Then I'd just be mindless?" Jiang Ruotang chuckled, his eyes curved into crescents.

"Today’s your birthday. I got time off from the head nurse to take you out to a movie."

"Great! Let’s go!"

Outside the window, a light snow had begun falling unnoticed. Jiang Ruotang felt a chill, his chest tight like a stone was pressing on it, making breathing difficult.

But he didn’t want to return to the ward.

As if reading Jiang Ruotang’s mind, Lu Guifan took off his coat and settled it around Jiang Ruotang’s shoulders. Then he turned around, bent down, and carried Jiang Ruotang on his back.

"This road is lined with billboards and LED screens. If you want to see him, I’ll keep walking this way. If you don’t, we’ll take the alley."

Jiang Ruotang knew he was referring to Bai Yingchuan’s advertisements, ubiquitous.

"Why take the alley? Are we not good enough for the main road?"

Lu Guifan continued forward, his voice calm. "He is indeed good-looking."

Leaning against Lu Guifan’s neck, Jiang Ruotang guessed this guy must think he still had lingering feelings for Bai Yingchuan.

"Come on... In terms of looks, you’re far more classy, sophisticated, and deep. Hype him up... I'd rather hype you."

"I thought you’d say promoting him is worse than promoting a slab of barbecue pork."

Lu Guifan’s body was warm. With every word he spoke, the resonance of his vocal cords and chest vibrated right through Jiang Ruotang’s chest.

If he could, Jiang Ruotang wished this road could stretch longer, last longer—so he could forever stay pressed against Lu Guifan’s back, listening to his breathing, inhaling his smell.

If only... he could do it all over...

Stop wasting time on people who aren't worth it.

Jiang Ruotang felt sleep pulling at him, his body growing colder, his breathing labored, his consciousness drifting like it had lost gravity.

He knew his life was coming to an end.

And as if sensing it, Lu Guifan suddenly stopped, tilting his face up slightly.

You idiot... If you cry in such cold weather, your tears will turn to ice on your cheeks.

That pretty face shouldn't get frostbitten...

His consciousness grew heavier, pulled by some unseen force into the deepest, darkest abyss.

Yet his body felt lighter, slipping free from gravity's hold, floating upward.

Suddenly, the sound of an alarm rang in his ears—"Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!"—as if urging him to reincarnate.

Jiang Ruotang bolted upright.

Soft, warm blankets. The spacious room. On the desk nearby sat a brand-new but outdated computer.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Ruo Tang, are you up yet? Time for breakfast!"

That... sounded like Sister Juan’s voice? Full of exasperated fondness, Jiang Ruotang’s eyes stung with unshed tears.

But Sister Juan had left ten years ago when his father had his accident.

Jiang Ruotang launched himself from bed, shoving his feet into those ridiculous plush slippers, and rushed to wrench open the door—only to see Sister Juan’s smiling face.

And over her shoulder, he spotted his father sitting at the dining table downstairs in the living room.

His heart pounded like a drum.

Was his father’s death and his own cancer the nightmare, or was this the beautiful dream he didn’t dare wake from?

He dashed downstairs and threw his arms around his father.

Jiang Huaiyuan was in the middle of eating a steamed bun when his son suddenly squeezed him, nearly choking him.

Because of his relationship with Zhao Yunshu, his son had been giving him the cold shoulder for a long time. This sudden warmth left Jiang Huaiyuan completely thrown.

"Tang Tang... you... what’s wrong?"

Jiang Ruotang touched his father’s hair—still thick and black now, not yet silvered by time.

"Dad... I just think... Auntie Zhao is actually pretty nice."

"Huh?" Jiang Huaiyuan looked baffled, wondering if this was some new sarcasm.

"When you see her later, don’t wear that plaid sweater again," Jiang Ruotang pinched his father’s cheek.

Jiang Huaiyuan wasn’t angry at all—just happy his son was being playful again. "Why?"

"You look ancient in it, like Auntie Zhao’s dad."

"Cough... cough-cough..."

Jiang Huaiyuan almost made history as the first director to die by dumpling.

After saying that, Jiang Ruotang rushed back to his room, snatched up his phone, and checked the date on his phone—August 27, ten years ago. Three days left before summer break ended.

If this wasn’t a dream, if everything in his memories was real, then today was the day he’d receive Lin Lu’s message.

Jiang Ruotang remembered—that message had come around 9:30 a.m.

Sure enough, his phone pinged with a text. Jiang Ruotang's thumb flew to open it.

Lin Lu: "Breaking News! Your one true love Bai Yingchuan is transferring to our school! And he’ll be in our class!"

Jiang Ruotang’s throat went dry. So this was that whole "heart racing, hands shaking" thing people talked about.

He looked down and typed back casually, "Don’t care. Stopped liking him ages ago."