Chapter 1: The Reborn Young Police Officer

“Zhou Yi, wake up, something’s happened!”

In a daze, he heard someone calling his name.

It sounded like his mother’s voice.

“Hurry up and get out of bed. Your second uncle just called—he said your grandfather is in critical condition.”

Grandfather?

Wait a minute, hadn’t his grandfather passed away more than twenty years ago?

Zhou Yi jolted awake, his eyes snapping open.

Where was he? Why did this place look so familiar?

Pale green walls, old-fashioned cabinets and a sewing machine, a giant world map hanging on the wall.

He was lying on a narrow, steel-framed bed. Next to his pillow stood a large tape recorder, the cassette quietly spinning inside.

From the speaker, Ren Xianqi’s gentle singing floated through the room.

“You’re always too soft-hearted…”

Wasn’t this the steel mill dormitory where he’d lived as a child?

Hadn’t it been torn down over a decade ago?

What on earth was happening?

Zhou Yi sat up abruptly.

“Mom?”

He called out in disbelief, for the woman before him was unmistakably his mother, just as she’d looked in her middle years.

She gave him a sharp look. “Stop dawdling—your dad’s so worried he’s about to lose it.”

“Mom, is it really you?” Zhou Yi couldn’t help but ask again.

His mother frowned. “What’s the matter with you, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

As she spoke, she reached out and touched his forehead. Zhou Yi felt a warmth that was both familiar and real.

He wasn’t dreaming!

“No fever,” she muttered, pulling her hand back. “Come on, hurry up, or you’ll miss seeing your grandfather one last time.”

Listening to his mother, taking in the familiar surroundings, and glancing down at his young, strong body, Zhou Yi was suddenly struck by a realization.

Had he been reborn?

His grandfather’s last moments… Could this be 1997?

He stood and rushed out the door. The dormitory buildings of the steel mill were all lined up next to each other, with a long balcony stretching outside their doors.

Everything was exactly as he remembered: Uncle Li’s doorway piled high with clutter to the left, Old Man Gu’s windows on the right plastered with layers of old newspapers.

Even the flickering of the lightbulb on the balcony, wavering with the unstable current, matched his childhood memories.

Farther off, the low buildings were shrouded in the darkness, their outlines only faintly visible, with a few scattered lights burning in the night.

“How peaceful the nights were in ’97,” he murmured.

A chill wind swept past, making him shiver. But just then, warmth enveloped him—a jacket was draped over his shoulders.

“You’re a police officer now, how can you still be so careless? What if you catch a chill?” his mother scolded.

Her voice made his eyes sting with tears, for in that moment, he knew with utter certainty—he truly was back in 1997.

…

Zhou Yi’s parents were both workers at the steel mill.

But he had not followed in their footsteps. He’d become a police officer.

He started as a lowly patrolman, but through hard work, he’d made his way up to detective, and eventually even joined the provincial criminal investigation team.

Until that day, when he’d accompanied a captain younger than himself on a case. In their haste to extract information, the captain had used excessive force, resulting in the suspect’s untimely death.

And so, an experienced investigator was demoted to “Old Zhou,” the man in charge of sorting files.

He spent his days buried in case files stacked to the ceiling—still diligent, but no one paid him any mind.

Sometimes he’d meet up with old colleagues for drinks, and they’d all claim to envy his safe, uneventful retirement.

But that was just lip service. After the words were spoken, there’d be awkward laughter, and then more drinking.

Eight years passed like this.

Those eight years gradually wore down all his sharp edges.

He never expected that, on the day of his fiftieth birthday, he’d open his eyes and find himself reborn, twenty-seven years in the past.

…

Under the night sky, Zhou Yi rode a heavy old bicycle. Ahead, another bicycle carried his parents—his father pedaling, his mother sitting behind.

The reality of his rebirth still felt surreal, but the vividness of the people and the world around him was forcing him to accept it.

Since leaving home, his father’s face had remained grim and silent. He just pedaled faster.

His mother tried to comfort him, “Don’t worry. Good people are rewarded—Dad will be fine.”

The cold night wind cleared Zhou Yi’s mind, stirring up memories of the night his grandfather died.

His grandfather had three sons and a daughter. His father was the eldest; his third uncle had headed south to seek his fortune after the reforms.

Since his second uncle had inherited their grandfather’s job as the steel mill’s safety officer, it was agreed he would care for the old man, while the other siblings contributed a little for food each month.

Zhou Yi remembered that when he and his parents arrived at his second uncle’s house that year, his grandfather was already semi-conscious in bed.

His breathing was shallow, more air leaving than entering, and it took a long time before he finally opened his eyes to look at everyone gathered around.

The adults all said the end was near.

The siblings gathered outside the room to discuss funeral arrangements.

As the eldest grandchild, Zhou Yi had even suggested taking his grandfather to the hospital.

But his second aunt had refused outright. “It’s not an illness, just his time. Lots of old people pass away like this,” she’d said. “And you’re just a kid; this isn’t your place to speak.”

By midnight, his grandfather had passed.

The whole family wept and wailed.

Through her tears, his second uncle produced a will, claiming their grandfather had written it himself.

The main content was simple: the apartment assigned by the steel mill and the bankbook would go to the second uncle and aunt, who had “dutifully cared for him to the end.”

His aunt was the first to object, accusing her brother of forging the will.

His second aunt screamed back that, as a married woman, she was now an outsider and had no right to speak.

And so the crying turned into endless quarreling.

“Dad, how was Grandpa’s health before this? Did he have any chronic issues?”

“No, your grandfather was fine, just some high blood pressure.” His father finally spoke.

“Then how could he suddenly take a turn for the worse?”

Back then, Zhou Yi had been too young to question it. But now, reborn with the instincts of a seasoned detective, he couldn’t help but suspect something was amiss.

Soon they arrived at his second uncle’s place. His aunt’s family had just arrived as well.

“How is he?” his father asked at once.

His aunt’s eyes grew red as she shook her head.

Zhou Yi saw his father tremble all over and rushed into the inner room.

“Oh, big brother and sister-in-law, you’re here,” his second aunt said, emerging from another room, her face calm.

“What happened? Dad was fine—how did this happen all of a sudden?” his mother asked.

His second aunt immediately raised her voice. “How should I know? I feed him and put a roof over his head. What do you want me to do, stop him from dying? Zhou Yi, am I right?”

Zhou Yi had never liked this aunt—sharp-tongued, selfish, and shrewish.

And what did she mean, “feed him and put a roof over his head?” They were living in his grandfather’s house. Before his second uncle took over the job, they hadn’t even had a proper home.

But Zhou Yi had no time to argue. He headed straight for his grandfather’s room.

His second uncle was sitting at the bedside, but the man was spineless—he always did whatever his wife said.

“Grandpa, it’s me, Xiao Yi. I’m here to see you.”

Zhou Yi called softly, tears springing to his eyes. He never imagined he’d get to see his beloved grandfather again after so many years.

The old man lay there with his eyes closed, breathing weakly.

Zhou Yi gripped his grandfather’s hand tightly, his mind a storm of emotion.

He had witnessed this very scene years ago—now he was forced to endure it again. The cruelty of it all was overwhelming.

Was this why fate had sent him back—to make him experience the pain of loss once more?

He brushed away tears that threatened to fall.

Suddenly, he noticed dried blood crusted around his grandfather’s left nostril.

“Second uncle, what happened to Grandpa’s nose?”

His second uncle peered at it and said indifferently, “Oh, he had a nosebleed. I wiped it off.”

“When did that happen?”

“About… half an hour ago, I guess.”

Zhou Yi frowned deeply and asked his uncle to bring a flashlight. He began to check his grandfather’s pupils.

Then he asked, “Second uncle, did Grandpa fall at all today?”

His uncle was startled and shook his head. “No, not that I know of.”

“Are you sure?” Zhou Yi pressed, anxiety and suspicion swirling together.

“Did he vomit? Did he say he felt dizzy?”

“W-wife!” His second uncle called out in a panic.

“What is it? Did Dad stop breathing?” his aunt demanded as she burst in.

“Um, Zhou Yi wants to know if Dad fell today?” His uncle’s eyes darted away. “I wasn’t home earlier, you were here—did you notice anything?”

His aunt rolled her eyes. “I’m not the Zhou family’s maid. How should I know if the old man fell while out for a walk?”

“What, you expect me to follow him around all day? Did I sell my life to the Zhou family?”

“Or are you accusing me of harming my own father-in-law?”

“Fine, Zhou Yi, why don’t you arrest me and interrogate me—you’re a police officer, aren’t you!”

As his aunt grew more and more agitated, everyone else crowded into the room. Zhou Yi’s mother quickly tried to smooth things over.

“Zhou Yi didn’t mean that. He’s just worried about his grandfather’s health.”

But unexpectedly, Zhou Yi suddenly said loudly, “No, that’s exactly what I mean!”

“You—do you have no respect for your elders?” his aunt shrieked, pointing at him in outrage.

The room descended into chaos, but Zhou Yi spoke coldly.

“According to the criminal code, if someone deliberately conceals the truth and causes another to miss out on timely treatment and die as a result, that may constitute negligent homicide.”

“In less serious cases, the sentence is up to three years in prison.”

“In serious cases, it’s three to seven years.”

His aunt, in the midst of searching for a broom to chase him out, was so startled by these words that she stumbled and nearly fell.

She managed to steady herself on the table, but a large porcelain bowl crashed to the floor and shattered into pieces.