Chapter Six: Morning Exercise

Chapter Six: Morning Exercise

Lying in his familiar little room, Zhang Ye’s expression shifted subtly. “Guan Haiyang, you never expected this, did you? You never thought I’d live to see another day…” The thought of the man who had orchestrated his death—the one who had hired someone to run him down in a staged car accident—made Zhang Ye’s heart tremble with fury.

Guan Haiyang, the son of Guan Zhengde, Secretary of the Guangyang City Party Committee, was known as the city’s foremost young master. He possessed all the hallmarks of a typical scion, but wielded power even more deftly than his father. In his previous life, Zhang Ye had attended university with him. Though their relationship was not especially close, it was not openly hostile—until Li Qianqian, the girl Guan Haiyang admired, fell for Zhang Ye instead. Coupled with other factors, their relationship soured beyond repair.

Drawing on his family’s influence, Guan Haiyang repeatedly sabotaged Zhang Ye, intervening every time Zhang Ye’s career seemed poised for success, reducing his efforts to ashes. Eventually, Zhang Ye was left on the brink of ruin, his family nearly destroyed.

The memory of his parents’ suffering after bankruptcy—how they endured hardship for his sake, and later fell ill with no money for treatment—stoked the flames of hatred in Zhang Ye’s heart. It was Guan Haiyang, more than even the thug who slashed his face, who was the true architect of his life’s misery.

But Zhang Ye was never one to swallow his grievances. Patiently, he gathered evidence for years, and with a single report, pushed Guan Haiyang’s father into dangerous waters. Yet, unfamiliar with the murky intricacies of officialdom, Zhang Ye’s efforts fell short; Guan Zhengde was shaken but did not fall. This only enraged Guan Haiyang further, driving him to hire a killer without hesitation.

“You destroyed my family. In this life, I will ensure you lose everything. The suffering of my past must be repaid in full.” A steely glint flashed in Zhang Ye’s eyes.

“Business—only in business. If I can stand atop the commercial world, even his father’s immense power won’t frighten me.”

The Zhang family had a spotless background, but no powerful officials. To compete with the Guans on the political stage would be nearly impossible, and Zhang Ye had neither the time nor inclination to climb the ranks step by step.

So, business was his only path. In his previous life, he had been a businessman—not wildly successful, but experienced enough. With his knowledge of the future, he was confident that success would come swiftly.

“It’s… July 2, 1995, in Huaxia,” Zhang Ye muttered as he rose, eyes sweeping over the calendar.

“There’s still a month left of summer vacation. I’ll use this time to earn my first pot of gold.” With this decision made, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

…

The next morning, Zhang Ye woke earlier than Liu Meiju. He prepared breakfast for his family, then laced up his sneakers and set out for his morning exercise.

Their home was in an old residential compound in Lihua County, mostly inhabited by retirees. Not far from the complex was a public park where locals gathered each day to exercise. That’s where Zhang Ye headed.

Having endured so much, Zhang Ye now understood the importance of health more than ever. He resolved to make daily exercise a lifelong habit.

As he jogged, his mind continued to churn. In his previous life, at this very time, he had been hospitalized—at his lowest ebb, oblivious to the world’s opportunities. For the moment, no business ideas came to him.

“Zhang Ye! You’re back—why didn’t you come find me?” A chubby boy, his flesh jiggling as he ran, hurried over and called out.

“Zhao Haidong—Dongzi! You’re still as chubby as ever.” Seeing his childhood friend, Zhang Ye’s face lit up with genuine delight.

Zhao Haidong had been his closest companion since childhood. Though a misunderstanding had once driven them apart, when Zhang Ye was at his most desperate and helpless, Zhao Haidong was the first to reach out a hand. For that, Zhang Ye was truly grateful; he regarded him as a brother in the truest sense.

“You’ve only been gone a few days. Even if I drank slimming tea every day, I’d still be fat,” Zhao Haidong retorted, rolling his eyes. Then, grinning, he added, “How about this—let’s go shoot some birds. Yesterday I spotted a sparrow’s nest. Spent the whole afternoon trying, but didn’t get a single one. Your aim’s better than mine—want to give it a go?”

The two had grown up together—shooting birds with slingshots, making mud pies, pinching fruit from the vines. They knew each other inside and out.

“No,” Zhang Ye refused without hesitation. Though he had the body of a teenager, his soul was that of a man in his thirties or forties—such childish amusements no longer interested him.

“Then let’s go play video games! Wen Kai just got a batch of new machines. Want to check them out together?” Zhao Haidong, eyes gleaming, offered another suggestion.

The mention of video games gave Zhang Ye pause. After a moment’s thought, he agreed.

…

Cultural Street was one of the busiest areas in Lihua County—a favorite spot for shopping and night markets. Wen Kai’s Arcade was at the far end of the street, a bit out of the way but still within the district’s hustle and bustle.

After breakfast, Zhang Ye and Zhao Haidong made their way there in high spirits.

“Dongzi, why isn’t that place across the street open?” Zhang Ye asked as they reached Wen Kai’s Arcade, glancing around before pointing at a shop opposite.

He remembered it as a fruit stand—a popular spot in the summer heat.

“Oh, that place? It’s always like that—hasn’t been rented in half a year. You come here all the time, how could you forget?” Zhao Haidong was momentarily taken aback, then looked at Zhang Ye in confusion.

“I see,” Zhang Ye replied vaguely, but his eyes lit up with sudden clarity.

Now he remembered: in his previous life, there had indeed been a fruit stand there, but only after a scar had been cut into his face.

In the summer of 1995, a torrential downpour swept across the region surrounding Lihua County. Though the rain lasted just a day and a night, for Qiyuan Town—not far from Lihua—it was nothing short of a disaster.

Qiyuan Town was famous for its watermelons, supplying neighboring towns and counties. But the floodwaters inundated the fields, destroying the crop almost entirely. The farmers suffered heavy losses, and the incident even made the county’s evening news.

Just days before that deluge, a husband and wife had rented the shop across from Wen Kai’s Arcade and set up a fruit stand. Summer was the hottest season, and watermelon sales were at their peak. The couple, well prepared for their grand opening, had filled a whole room with watermelons. After the rain, the heat returned with a vengeance, sending watermelon prices soaring from just one jiao per jin to a staggering six or seven jiao per jin.

As a result, the couple made a handsome profit.

At the time, Zhao Haidong had invited Zhang Ye to Wen Kai’s Arcade to lift his spirits, so Zhang Ye remembered it vividly.