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Chi Yao once loved Shen Ling deeply, but now, he despised him just as much.

If given another chance, to hell with Shen Ling or anyone else.

Before Chi Yao’s soul vanished, his hands rested on his abdomen. Although he didn’t love the child, it had at least accompanied him for several months.

“Find someone who will cherish you in your next life,” Chi Yao wished silently.

…

Can ghosts dream?

This was Chi Yao’s first thought when he opened his eyes, staring up at the glaring sun. The sunlight was so bright that after a few seconds, his eyes began to ache sharply, forcing him to close them.

Once the pain subsided, he lowered his head and slowly reopened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was his hand.

The hand was lively and fair, without a single bruise, no lifelessness, and none of the wounds Chi Yao had once bitten into it himself.

Chi Yao raised his hand, shading the sun with his fingers as he looked at the blazing sky. He thought it must have been a very long dream, one where he neglected his body, smoked, drank, skipped meals, stayed up late, and ultimately destroyed himself, dying of stomach cancer. Or maybe, this place was his dream.

He should be lying on a hospital bed, with a cold IV drip feeding medicine into his veins. He must have fallen asleep and dreamed of returning to the past.

Chi Yao’s mouth curled into a smile, his shoulders trembling as he laughed silently. His entire body shook from the laughter.

Let this dream end quickly, he thought. He didn’t want such fleeting happiness.

Suddenly, Chi Yao removed his hand from his eyes, opened his mouth, and bit down hard on his wrist.

As soon as his teeth broke the skin, the pain made him hiss in agony.

Chi Yao had always been afraid of pain. His pain tolerance was far lower than most people’s, and even a small scratch was unbearable for him.

The sharpness of the pain was so vivid that Chi Yao immediately realized this wasn’t a dream. If this wasn’t a dream, then did that mean everything about his stomach cancer death had been?

But was it really a dream?

Everything had been too vivid, too real for Chi Yao to dismiss it as mere fantasy.

Could it be that he had been reborn?

Chi Yao thought of this immediately. He remembered that just before his soul disappeared, he had wished for a second chance.

Could fate really be so kind to him, giving him another opportunity?

But then, Chi Yao dismissed the thought. Fate wouldn’t favor him. It had toyed with him, watching him jump around like a clown.

Chi Yao’s body relaxed as he leaned back on the park bench. This place was familiar to him. He often came here when he was in a bad mood. Why was he sitting here this time?

He searched his memory but couldn’t recall the exact reason.

However, he was certain it had something to do with his “white moonlight,” Shen Ling.

Thinking of Shen Ling made a wave of disgust rise in Chi Yao’s chest. His stomach churned, and he bent over, retching.

Having eaten nothing, Chi Yao didn’t vomit anything up.

After the retching passed, a moment of panic flashed through him as he quickly felt his abdomen. It was flat, even excessively thin, unlike in the dream where it had bulged.

There was no child inside.

Chi Yao sighed in relief, then a few seconds later, began to laugh again, this time out loud, tears streaming from his eyes.

He wiped away his tears with his fingers, stood up, stretched his neck, and moved his body. His car was parked by the roadside, but there were too many things Chi Yao was confused about. The most pressing issue, he decided, was to go to the hospital.

As long as there was no unusual organ in his body—the one that only women should have—and no tumor in his stomach, then the dream would completely fall apart.

He got into the car and buckled his seatbelt. As he did, he subconsciously avoided his stomach, which made him laugh at himself.

It was just a long dream. How could he let it affect him?

Just as he was about to start the engine, his phone rang.

Chi Yao pulled out his phone, and when he saw the caller ID, the smile that had just touched his eyes vanished instantly. His long, thick lashes glistened with an icy coldness.

Each eyelash seemed to convey only one thing: cold hostility.

The phone kept ringing, the sound urgent. Chi Yao wanted to hang up immediately, suddenly feeling sick at the thought of talking to these so-called friends.

Just before hanging up, he hesitated and answered the call.

“What is it?” Chi Yao’s voice was colder than his gaze, like shards of ice.

On the other end, Xue Zhongming, apparently used to Chi Yao’s attitude, cheerfully said, “Xiao Yao, are you coming to the barbecue tonight?”

The eager tone would have once made Chi Yao think they were anticipating his presence because they were friends. Now, hearing the same voice and words, Chi Yao only felt disgusted, like his phone had been dirtied.

Chi Yao was about to decline when his eyes suddenly flickered.

The same words?

The same!

Chi Yao almost covered his mouth to keep from laughing aloud. The coldness in his lashes melted as he let out a loud, carefree laugh. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I come? Invite a few more people. I love a lively gathering!”

Chi Yao’s lips curled into a grin, his expression suddenly turning sinister.

“No problem! It’ll be a real party. I’ll round up more people then,” Xue Zhongming said before hanging up.

Chi Yao stared at his phone screen, his eyes dark. He decided the hospital could wait. Tonight, he’d go to the barbecue. If things were really as he suspected, there’d be quite the show tonight.

His “white moonlight” would surely have that heartthrob admirer tagging along again. How had he reacted before?