Third Rebirth
Liang An opened his eyes and stared at the familiar ceiling. The sound of cicadas chirping came from outside the window.
I'm back in my familiar bedroom.
He checked the date on his phone and, sure enough, it was August 15th. He had returned to the time before the start of his first year of high school.
This is the third time I've been reborn.
Even with my eyes closed, the burning pain from the flames didn't seem to have subsided. It felt like a scorching wave was churning beneath my skin, and I could feel a sharp, burning pain with every breath.
I sat up, raised my arm, and examined it closely inch by inch. It was as white as jade, without a single burn mark.
Liang An's lips curled into a cold, sharp smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "How interesting, my sixteenth year!"
He lifted the thin blanket, walked to the shower room, turned on the cold water, and let the water flow over his body again and again.
The icy water flowed down my hair and back, raising goosebumps on my skin, but it did nothing to alleviate the burning pain churning in my chest.
After a long while, he finally turned off the tap, and, stepping on the slippery floor, slowly moved to the mirror.
I lifted my fingertips to touch the cool mirror surface, then slowly lowered them, placing my hands on either side of the sink as I looked at myself in the mirror.
The person in the mirror was thin, with an almost transparent pale face, and desolation reflected in their pupils—a result of long-suppressed forbearance and exhaustion.
Suddenly, he smiled brightly at himself in the mirror, like a wildflower blooming in the snow, charming yet dangerous: "Wen Zhi, this time it's my turn to come looking for you."
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Liang An bought soy milk and fried dough sticks, walked to the empty chair opposite the pork stall, sat down, and ate while looking at the other side.
The pork stall owner is deboning and cutting up the pork.
He picked up a gleaming boning knife, held the pork carcass with his left hand, and gently slid the blade along the spine, slicing through the fascia with a "sizzle".
With a flick of the wrist, the blade follows the curve of the bone, sometimes slicing diagonally, sometimes pushing horizontally, completely separating the pork belly from the ribs.
Lift the pig's hind leg, press the protrusion of the joint with your thumb, insert the blade precisely into the joint gap, and pry it open with a little force. With a crisp "click", the femoral head separates from the hip bone.
Next, use a boning hook to hook the tenderloin meat on both sides of the spine, and pull it outwards. The two tender tenderloins, along with a little fascia, slide onto the cutting board, and the blood droplets on the cutting board slowly seep out along the wood grain.
Liang An watched with great interest, occasionally sipping his soy milk and taking a bite of his fried dough stick.
The aroma of soybeans mixed with the fresh, gamey smell of meat from the meat stall created a surprisingly delicious combination.
The boss finally couldn't resist putting down the boning knife and walking across the street.
"Young man, you've been staring at me for four days now. How come you like eating breakfast this way?"
Liang An smiled and nodded.
The boss was speechless. He looked like a pageboy under Guanyin Bodhisattva, but his brain seemed a bit off.
He shook his head and returned to his stall.
Liang An finally finished his breakfast, threw the packaging bag into the nearby trash can, and walked to the pork stall.
"Boss, can I be your apprentice? I don't want anything else, I just want to learn this skill."
"Oh, you're thinking too simply. This isn't something you can just teach anyone!" the boss waved his hand in refusal.
Liang An squeezed out some tears and began to play the victim.
“My parents just passed away, and all the money in our house was swindled away by relatives, so I wanted to learn a skill to support myself.”
Liang An wiped away his tears and kept wiping his eyes with his sleeve, which was smeared with ginger juice.
Her tear-streaked face was truly pitiful.
“I’ve been looking at all the stalls around here for days, and yours is the best. Please, do me a favor and teach me for a few days. I can do any dirty or hard work for you.”
"You silly child, why do you cry so easily? Fine, fine, be there at 5 o'clock sharp tomorrow, let's try it for one day first," the butcher said helplessly.
And so, Liang An became a helper at the pork stall.
At first, I just helped out at the stall and did odd jobs.
Liang An did not rush for quick success, but calmed down and did every little thing well.
The pork stall owner became increasingly satisfied with his performance and began to teach him step by step, including "identifying bones, the proper way to hold a knife, and the angle at which to cut."
Boning knives are extremely sharp, and it's easy to cut your hand at first. You must wear thick, cut-resistant gloves and keep the cutting board stable throughout the process.
Perhaps Liang An really had a talent for slaughtering pigs. He quickly learned how to cut along the fascia without puncturing blood vessels and mastered the technique of exerting force when separating joints.
Every day he cuts and chops at the butcher's stall, and his hands become increasingly steady. When his fingertips grip the knife handle, he is as steady as a rock, and the curve of the blade along the bone and muscle is as precise as a etched path.
Liang An looked at the boning knife in his hand with satisfaction. It was small and exquisite, like a dagger, and he had specially asked the butcher to make it for him.
He carefully put away the knife and said to the butcher, "Uncle, I'm going back to school soon. I've come to say goodbye and thank you for teaching me your skills."
The boss paused in wiping the cutting board, glanced at the knife in his hand, and looked at the youthful innocence and determination in his eyes. He grinned, gently placed the rag on the cutting board, and said, "Study hard at school. If you ever want to learn this skill again, come back during your holidays, and I'll let you practice at my meat stall."
Liang An smiled gratefully and nodded emphatically.
But I thought to myself with regret that I probably wouldn't be able to wait for the holiday.
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Once again, Liang An went alone to Haicheng No. 1 Middle School to complete the enrollment procedures, carrying his admission notice.
On the first day of school, this century-old prestigious school was still bustling with activity, with the sounds of suitcases clattering and laughter echoing throughout.
Liang An stayed away from the bustling crowds, measuring every corner of the school inch by inch with his own footsteps.
On the first day of school, the school is completely open, making it the best time to understand the school layout and explore every corner of the campus.
Since we can't avoid Wen Zhi, we'll just have to face him head-on.
This time, Liang An only wanted to confine all the entanglements and misfortunes within this campus.
He wanted to see what kind of trajectory fate would take this time.
During the placement exam a week after enrollment, Liang An submitted a blank paper.
As expected, he was assigned to Class 9 and ranked last on the list.
On the first day after the class assignments, Liang An arrived at the school to check it out. As soon as he reached the entrance of the building, he heard unrestrained laughter.
He paused, turned around the corridor, and saw Wen Zhi and his gang gathered at the classroom door.
"Hey, this class assignment list is based on grades, right? I'm not even the last one. Who's Liang An? This guy's interesting, hahaha..."
Wei Qi grinned and gestured at the list posted on the classroom door, making a piercing duck-like quack. He had a tuft of yellow hair on his head and looked like a husky.
Wen Zhi stood against the wall, surrounded by several other boys who joined Wei Qi in making a ruckus.
Liang An walked straight to the door, pushed Wei Qi aside, and tore down the list.
The people at the door stared in disbelief at Liang An's actions until he walked into the classroom, at which point they finally came to their senses.
"Hey, who's this guy? He's pretty arrogant!" Wei Qi staggered a few steps and stared at Liang An's back.
"She's really good-looking. If she were a girl, she'd be voted the school beauty queen immediately," said another boy, Xu Sheng.
"If this were a flower, it would be a thorny rose. Be careful not to break your hand, right, Wen Zhi?" Cai Meng grinned, showing her little tiger teeth as she looked at Wen Zhi with a gentle and adorable expression.
Wen Zhi shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, then turned and slowly walked into the classroom with his hands in his pockets.
He saw Liang An sitting in the seat he had chosen, raised an eyebrow, and casually tapped the edge of the table with his fingertip. "Excuse me, did you come to the wrong seat? This is mine."
"Oh, did they carve your name on it? I didn't see it." Liang An slowly raised his eyes, a slight smirk playing on his lips, the contempt hidden in the casual curve, more hurtful than blatant sarcasm.
Wen Zhi looked down and stared directly at Liang An, his gaze fixed on Liang An's face, his eyes filled with scrutiny and warning.
Liang An relaxed and slouched in the chair, meeting Wen Zhi's gaze with no fear in his eyes, only open disdain.
"Fine, I'll remember you," Wen Zhi threatened in a low voice, then sat down in the seat next to him.
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Finally, after finishing a day of classes, Liang An lazily walked out of the school.
He enrolled in courses such as Sanda (Chinese kickboxing), rock climbing, and lock picking, all scheduled for the evenings, which aligns with the school's requirement for well-rounded development.
They walked to the familiar alley outside the school again, but did not see Wen Zhi and the others.
Is the school bully really that calm? He didn't even try to ambush him in the alley.
Liang An shook his head regretfully and quickened his pace toward the Sanda gym.
In the blink of an eye, a month has passed since I started high school.
During this period, Liang An and Wen Zhi had frequent minor conflicts, yet they maintained a strange balance.
Liang An never shied away from confrontations, and even took the initiative to provoke, but he and Wen Zhi were always in a stage of mutual dislike, with no sign of escalating the conflict.
Life seemed to be going more and more smoothly.
However, a crisis is like a crack hidden beneath a glacier. You may think you are standing on solid ice, but you are unaware that countless cracks have already quietly spread.
A week has flown by, and it's Friday again.
On this day, it was Liang Andang's turn to be on duty.
Since there is a weekend off, the student on duty on Friday is responsible for locking the classroom door and must be the last to leave the classroom.
After school that day, the homeroom teacher held a 45-minute class meeting. By the time the students had gradually left the classroom, it was already getting dark outside.
Liang An lowered his head and quickly wrote on the test paper. When the last footsteps in the classroom disappeared, he gently pulled his wrist, finishing the last question on the test paper.
He got up and stretched, tidied up the scattered stationery on the table, folded the test paper he had just finished in half, and stuffed it into his schoolbag along with the stationery and books. He then took out a portable climbing rope from his schoolbag and put it in one of his school trouser pockets before picking up his schoolbag and skillfully slinging it over his back.
He walked quickly to the window, made sure that each window was fastened with a latch, then went to the classroom door, turned off the lights, closed the door, and turned the key to lock it.
It was completely dark, and all was quiet. Most of the lights in the corridor were off, with only a few remaining in the distance, casting dappled shadows on the walls in their dim yellow glow.
The tightly closed classroom doors on both sides resembled silent mouths, and in the dim light, it felt like being on the set of a horror movie.
Liang An unconsciously shrugged his shoulders, put one hand in his pocket, and precisely hooked the end of the climbing rope with his fingertips. The rough touch of his palm eased the sudden unease that rose within him. He steadied his steps and quickly walked towards the stairwell.
Just as he reached the corner, a damp, coarse cloth hood was suddenly draped over his head, completely covering it, plunging him into complete darkness.
Before he could even raise his hand to pull off the hood, his wrists were gripped tightly by two iron-like hands, twisted behind his back, and locked together.
Before he could recover from the pain, a sharp knife tip was pressed against his lower back. "If you want to live, don't make a sound."
A rough male voice sounded from behind, followed by a hard shove in his back. He staggered a few steps, then was swept along, moving step by step up the stairs, and soon reached the top floor.
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