Volume 1, Chapter 1: This Confession Plot Is All Wrong

The night wind rustled the plastic sheets on the rooftop shelter, the sound sharp and restless. Li Yan held a Ziyun cigarette between his lips; its ember flickered briefly in the darkness before fading away.

His phone pressed against his ear, his mother Liu Tong’s voice trembled with tears. “Xiao Yan, what have you been doing out there? They called, saying you owe the platform over a hundred thousand yuan and haven’t paid. Now they’re threatening to sue you. How much do you really owe?”

Hearing his mother’s worried words, Li Yan’s face twisted into a bitter expression.

He wasn’t surprised this day had come—those relentless debt collectors had really called his family.

His fingers tightened around the cigarette; his Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “Mom, it’s a scam. Don’t believe them. Don’t answer their calls anymore. Just hang up immediately.”

From the other end, Liu Tong continued, “The whole village knows now. They even called your uncle and aunt. They say you owe money and won’t pay. They said in the future, even relatives’ children won’t be able to take public service exams. Tonight, they all came to our home asking if it’s true.”

Li Yan’s brows furrowed deeper. The cigarette had burnt down to the end, the last ember burning hot between his fingers, yet he felt no pain.

The damned collectors had even leaked his contacts.

Didn’t they fear going to jail?

Liu Tong asked anxiously, “Xiao Yan, if you really owe money, just pay them back quickly. We still have thirty thousand yuan at home; I’ll transfer it to you right away.”

A surge of bitterness and helplessness welled up inside Li Yan.

Thirty thousand? Thirty thousand was nowhere near enough—he owed more than a million. It was but a drop in the ocean.

“Mom, I understand. Just tell them those people are scammers. Don’t trust them. I’m with a client now. I’ll hang up first.”

Before Liu Tong could reply, Li Yan ended the call.

Since graduating from university, Li Yan had started a business, dabbling in a company. In the early years, he had made some money, but three years of the pandemic left him unable to sustain it.

He had no choice but to max out all his credit cards and exhaust every online loan to keep the company afloat.

He thought he could weather the storm, but what came was bankruptcy.

He borrowed money everywhere, paying severance to employees who had followed him into business.

In the end, he was left penniless, forced to take shelter in an illegally constructed rooftop shack owned by a landlord.

Now, with his contacts leaked by collectors, his reputation in the whole village was ruined.

A WeChat notification sounded.

It was from Luo Jiashuang, Li Yan’s high school crush—the one he had liked and pursued for so long.

But Luo Jiashuang had always been indifferent to him.

In today’s terms, Li Yan was a desperate admirer, persistent to the point of obsession.

Luo Jiashuang’s message read: “Li Yan, what’s going on? They say you owe the platform money and won’t pay. Now they’re calling me? Please don’t randomly put my number on things. And don’t bother me anymore—we’re impossible. Please, just leave me alone!”

Her tone was resolute, cold as eternal ice.

What?

Even Luo Jiashuang had received calls.

Li Yan hadn’t expected her to respond so decisively.

Staring at the screen, he suddenly smiled bitterly.

Of course, now that I’m drowning in debt, why am I still foolishly clinging to some unattainable dream?

It seemed his entire contact list had been exposed, though he hadn’t even listed Luo Jiashuang’s number when applying for loans.

These collectors were truly unscrupulous, determined to drive him to the edge.

Li Yan didn’t reply; he didn’t know how—any response would be wrong.

There were many missed calls and messages he no longer wished to check, likely more debt collection attempts.

Nearly ten years since graduation, he didn’t understand how he had fallen so low.

His ambitions were sky-high, but his fate was frail—a phrase that suited him perfectly.

Standing on the rooftop, gazing at the city lights, he felt a deep sorrow. So many lights, yet not one was his home.

His gaze slowly drifted downward; the night seemed to grow deeper, as if a pair of seductive eyes were watching him.

Darkness appeared to engulf him, swallowing his mind and body, until there was nothing left.

Suddenly, a voice jolted him awake.

“Promise him, promise him.”

“Be together, be together.”

“Li Yan, stop dreaming about a toad eating swan meat—how dare you confess to her?”

“Get down here, you village dog, you don’t deserve her.”

The voices were loud and chaotic—some jeering, others scolding Li Yan.

Opening his eyes, he saw himself holding a bouquet of roses, kneeling on one knee.

In front of him stood Luo Jiashuang, wearing her high ponytail and the Lincheng No.1 High School uniform.

What was going on?

Where was this?

And why was Luo Jiashuang in her school uniform when he was in Deep City?

Li Yan had been reborn—back to June 8th, 2012, right after the college entrance exam, at the very moment he confessed to Luo Jiashuang.

Just now, he had confessed.

Thinking of her previous words, he felt he might not like her so much anymore.

Maybe this was just a dream.

But he knew how it would end—back then, she had rejected him.

She would say, “Thank you, Li Yan, but I don’t like you. Please don’t do this again.”

Then she would turn and leave.

He would be left with the ridicule and scorn of onlookers, feeling miserable and ashamed for a long time before recovering.

He thought his younger self was laughably naive and was about to leave.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Luo Jiashuang said nothing. Instead, her eyes fixed on Li Yan, disbelief turning to surprise, as if she had suddenly found a long-lost treasure, her eyes sparkling.

She took the roses from his hands, sniffed them, and smiled. “Li Yan, I promise you. From now on, you’re my boyfriend—no matter what, we’ll never break up.”

What???

What was going on?

This wasn’t how the story was supposed to go.

Li Yan was utterly bewildered.

Could this be a daydream?

He pinched himself to wake up.

He pinched his arm—ouch, it hurt.

Was this dream really so cruel?

He bit his tongue—still painful.

This wasn’t a dream at all.

Had he been reborn?

Oh my god!!!

The crowd thought Li Yan’s strange expression was just shock from confessing successfully.

“Why are you still standing? Go kiss your girlfriend!”

“Yeah, kiss her, kiss her!”

The classmates jeered.

After the college exam, confessing to a crush and succeeding—how many hearts must envy this moment?

Li Yan was confused.

Then, Luo Jiashuang wrapped her arms around his neck.

Her gentle lips suddenly pressed against his, catching him off guard.

In a low voice near his ear, she said, “Li Yan, now you’re mine. I won’t miss you again. We agreed—no matter what, we can’t break up.”

Li Yan felt overwhelmed.

Wait, weren’t you supposed to reject me?

Why did you just kiss me?

This script was all wrong—almost absurd.

Besides, I’m starting to feel like I don’t even like you anymore. Can I take it back?

“Um, Luo Jiashuang, I think I acted impulsively just now. I shouldn’t have confessed. Can I take it back? Just pretend nothing happened, okay?”

He said this, then turned to leave.

But Luo Jiashuang grabbed the back of his collar, yanking him back.

She then held his hand in hers—the soft, pale hand.

Raising their joined hands, she faced the crowd and declared, “Li Yan is now my boyfriend. Wish us well.”

The onlookers thought Luo Jiashuang’s boldness was unusual, but she must really like Li Yan who confessed to her.

She smiled proudly, thinking to herself, “Li Yan, in this life, you belong to me.”