Chapter 1 Reborn in the 90s

Chapter 1: Reborn in the 90s

It was late April, 1990.

In the western unit on the fourth floor of Building 3, within the residential area of the Second Silk Factory, a strikingly handsome boy, about seventeen or eighteen, leaned idly against the railing, basking in the sun and lost in thought.

It was a Thursday, a workday. At his age, he should typically have been in school—either high school or a technical college. At the very least, his family should have arranged a factory job for him. He certainly shouldn't have been lounging around like this.

"Oh, Jiang Luo? That kid from the Jiang family, Old Jiang's third son?"

"That figures."

"That kid's a good-for-nothing."

"His family doesn't even bother with him."

This was the general impression and assessment most people at the Second Silk Factory had of Jiang Luo before April of that year: "He's good-looking, exceptionally so, but what a shame. He's a slacker who doesn't take school seriously, didn't even sit for the college entrance exams, didn't go to a technical school, and his parents don't care about him."

Whenever he was mentioned, many factory employees would lecture their own children: "Don't you dare hang out with him. He's a good-for-nothing. He'll end up a street punk, a hooligan, a societal menace."

Jiang Luo, the aspiring societal menace, was currently slouched against the corridor railing of the tenement building, a loose, languid expression on his face as he gazed into the distance, eyes slightly narrowed. If he had been casually puffing on a cigarette, exhaling plumes of smoke, it would have perfectly completed his current demeanor.

Yet, no one knew that Jiang Luo was actually thinking: *Rebirth… I’m back… 1990… when I was 18 years old…*

*Ha.*

Jiang Luo mused: *Did the heavens take pity on how miserable my last life was, having a change of heart and granting me a second chance?*

Jiang Luo chuckled inwardly.

And what was even funnier?

The timing of his rebirth—April 1990—was precisely when his biological parents were coming to find him.

Yes, Jiang Luo had been switched at birth.

Eighteen years ago, at the Shanghai Maternity and Infant Hospital, a woman named Zhang Xiangping and another named Su Lan gave birth in the same delivery room.

Zhang Xiangping delivered a son weighing six *jin* and one *liang* (about 6.6 pounds) first, and a few minutes later, Su Lan also gave birth to a boy weighing around six *jin* (about 6.6 pounds).

When the two boys were placed together on the nursing station, the nurse mistakenly swapped their newborn wristbands.

Zhang Xiangping’s son became Su Lan’s son, taking his father’s surname and named Zhao Mingshi.

Su Lan’s son became Zhang Xiangping’s son, also taking his father’s surname—Jiang Luo.

And so, the mistake lasted for eighteen years.

It wasn't until April 1990, when Zhao Mingshi, then a freshman at Fudan University, donated blood at school and was found to have a blood type that didn’t match his parents, that the truth about the switched babies came to light.

So why did Jiang Luo find it so laughable that he was reborn at this very moment?

After all, the Zhao family and Su Lan were much better off, far superior to Zhang Xiangping and Jiang Jianmin, who were ordinary factory workers. Wouldn't it be a good thing to be recognized by them?

*Good?* Jiang Luo scoffed.

What was his situation? What was Zhao Mingshi’s situation?

He was a slacker, a societal parasite. Zhao Mingshi, on the other hand, was a top-notch student admitted to Fudan University.

Jiang Luo had never forgotten the look of dismay on Su Lan and Zhao Guangyuan’s faces when they learned he hadn't gone to college, hadn't attended a technical school, and possessed no particular skills.

That’s right, Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan never truly liked him. They only loved Zhao Mingshi, the child they had raised, nurtured with care, who was talented, accomplished, and had been admitted to a prestigious university.

Theoretically, they *wanted* to love, to like, to have expectations for their biological son.

After all, he was their own flesh and blood, Zhao Guangyuan’s bloodline, a piece of Su Lan’s own body.

But when they actually met him, when they actually acknowledged him, all they felt for Jiang Luo was disapproval and disappointment.

Thinking back to his previous life now, Jiang Luo felt like laughing again—a mocking, bitter laugh.

After being recognized, he had tried everything to earn Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan’s approval and affection.

He refused their money, hoping they would understand that he wasn’t returning for financial gain.

He started a business, made money, and even gave them money in return.

During holidays, he always brought gifts home—never skimping on presents, never skimping on money, never missing a phone call, never failing to visit them.

But what did he get in the end?

Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan still didn’t like him. With their biological son, at most, they maintained surface-level politeness, but in reality, they didn't care, weren't concerned, and didn't value him.

Who they truly cared about and valued, besides their eldest son Zhao Shuo (who had been raised by Zhao Guangyuan’s elder brother), was Zhao Mingshi, the child they had personally raised.

They sent Zhao Mingshi to university, giving him a monthly allowance of 500 yuan at a time when the average worker’s salary was only a few hundred.

When Zhao Mingshi wanted to study abroad as an exchange student, they pulled strings at the school to send him overseas.

After Zhao Mingshi graduated and stayed in town, they used their connections to find him a good job and bought him an apartment.

During holidays, while Jiang Luo was carefully considering what to bring home to honor his parents, Zhao Mingshi could just call home and casually mention what he felt like eating, and Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan would immediately go buy ingredients and busy themselves cooking.

When anything happened, Jiang Luo had to rely entirely on himself, while Zhao Mingshi relied entirely on his family.

Jiang Luo spent his whole life longing for his parents’ love, care, and attention, and envying the support and resources Zhao Mingshi received.

Because of this, in his previous life, Jiang Luo and Zhao Mingshi were locked in a competition for almost their entire lives.

Back then, Jiang Luo always believed that as long as he outperformed Zhao Mingshi, as long as he surpassed him, Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan would finally approve of him and like him.

*After all, he was their biological son, wasn’t he?*

*Wasn’t he?!*

Jiang Luo had once cared about this to the point of obsession.

Even right before his death, he was screaming inside: *I’m the biological son! Why don’t you love me? Why don’t you love me?!*

*Haven’t I done enough? Haven’t I been good enough?!*

*Am I worse than Zhao Mingshi!?*

*Why!?*

*On what grounds!?*

*On what grounds!!!*

Now, having been reborn and recalling the past, Jiang Luo chuckled to himself.

*What "why" or "what for"?*

*If there's no love, there's no love.*

Having died once and now reborn, it felt like reviewing his past life from a third-person perspective. Jiang Luo felt no extra emotions, nothing but scorn—

He thought, *I had everything I wanted, was I out of my mind in my previous life? What was I even competing with Zhao Mingshi for?*

*Was the love and care of his biological parents really that important?*

*Were the resources and connections the Zhao family could provide really so remarkable?*

People, and life itself, should aim higher.

Those things he had obsessed over in his previous life were truly unnecessary.

Leaning against the balcony railing, Jiang Luo realized, he was back, and it was 1990 now.

1990, what did that mean?

It meant everything was either just beginning or hadn't even started yet.

It meant countless opportunities awaited him in the future.

It meant his vast life was only just beginning.

1990!

Besides, capitalism hadn't even officially begun to take hold.

The Southern Tour had not yet happened.

Everything was just waiting to develop!

Just thinking about it made Jiang Luo grin from ear to ear—to be reborn in a year like this was like gold falling from the sky, just waiting for him to go and pick it up.

And so, Jiang Luo, who had just been reborn today, had it all figured out.

He also decided that in this life, starting over, he would no longer have anything to do with Zhao Mingshi.

Zhao Mingshi, along with Zhang Xiangping, Jiang Jianmin, Zhao Guangyuan, Su Lan, and that unlucky older brother of Zhao Mingshi, Zhao Shuo—all of them could just *fuck off*!

*All of them can fuck off!*

He was going to start a brand-new life, a completely new one.

He was going to make his mark and shine brilliantly in this era!

In the hallway, Wang Chuang, who lived at the east end, came hurrying over with a bowl of noodles and handed it, chopsticks and all, to Jiang Luo: "Here, have some noodles."

Jiang Luo glanced over, feeling a bit dismissive.

It had been years since he'd eaten such plain, watery noodles. Besides, plain noodles weren't particularly tasty. In his previous life, he usually ate hand-pulled noodles with a few meat and vegetable toppings, which were far more flavorful.

But you couldn't blame Jiang Luo for being picky—it was just his nature. He was used to a life of luxury. In his previous life, not to mention his food, clothing, and all his daily items, even the hand towel he used to wipe his hands was made of the finest material.

Because Jiang Luo had the capital—in his previous life, he ran a company, was quick-witted, had many connections, and made a lot of money.

Money was meant to be spent, and Jiang Luo never shortchanged himself—he spared no expense on himself.

He lived in a mansion, drove luxury cars, was a regular at high-end places, spent money lavishly, and lived extravagantly.

As others put it, Master Jiang was a total playboy.

Playboy or not, Jiang Luo couldn't care less what others said about him—he just wanted to live it up.

Now, in this new life, starting over, Jiang Luo naturally still intended to live extravagantly.

He wasn't going to make things hard for himself. Being a playboy wasn't illegal—was he supposed to have a "change of heart" now?

*Pfft.*

Jiang Luo took the noodles, ate a couple of bites, found them tasteless, and was disgusted by them.

He handed the bowl back to Wang Chuang and said, "You eat it yourself."

So Wang Chuang ate it himself, slurping loudly and enjoying it immensely.

Meanwhile, Jiang Luo was thinking about what he could do now. He asked Wang Chuang, "Fatso, how much cash do you have on you?"

"Huh?"

Wang Chuang looked up from the ceramic bowl, noodles still in his mouth, blinked his small eyes, thought for a moment, and said, "About three hundred yuan."

Jiang Luo paused, something flashing in his mind. He remembered—Wang Chuang had attended high school with him but didn't get into college. His family pulled some strings and sent him to a technical school to study electromechanics.

These three hundred yuan were what he had secretly saved from his living expenses.

"What's up?" Wang Chuang asked, his eyes suddenly lighting up as an idea struck him. "Going to the disco? Tonight? Sure, I can sneak out later."

Jiang Luo: "..."

Jiang Luo then remembered—he hadn't become a playboy only after making money later. He had always been a troublemaker, skipping school, not attending technical school, not working to earn money, but going to discos every day, drinking, smoking, and chasing girls—a total ne'er-do-well.

The disco he frequented at the time was called "Oriental No. 1," which had just opened last year.

After failing to get into college last year, he had met some shady people in society and, under their influence, started going to "Oriental No. 1" regularly.

At "Oriental No. 1," he not only drank, sang, danced, and picked up girls but also learned to smoke and fight.

The guy who managed the scene at "Oriental No. 1" was called Huazi, and Jiang Luo became one of his lackeys.

When nothing was happening, he would just hang around the disco, imitating the behavior of those societal types, acting like a tough guy, a seasoned veteran, and thinking he was really cool and badass.

When something did happen, he would step up.

Especially since he was young, hot-blooded, impulsive, and cared about saving face.

When Huazi patted him on the shoulder, he felt like he was second only to Huazi, stepping up without hesitation, fighting fiercely and recklessly.

Just thinking about it now, Jiang Luo cringed at how foolish he had been in his youth.

He also recalled that it was around this time he started having a constant stream of people around him, people coming and going.

In summary, it could be said: "Oriental No. 1" was the beginning of his "downward spiral."

As Jiang Luo was lost in recollection, Wang Chuang, holding his bowl, gave him a nudge with his elbow, a mischievous and teasing grin on his face. "Hey, that girl you met there—the one who always wore a short skirt to sing—did you hook up with her?"

"Didn’t I see you with your arm around her waist last time?"

Jiang Luo replied with a line that almost made Wang Chuang spit out his noodles.

Jiang Luo said, "I like men."

Author's Note:

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Got some drafts saved, still updating at 9:10 AM [sunglasses emoji].