Chapter Two: Do You Still Want to Bully Me?

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Jiang Xiwen’s sudden outburst drew the attention of several people nearby. They stared at him as if he were an alien—no one could have imagined that this usually quiet, honest classmate would dare talk back to the class monitor like this.

“Jiang Xiwen, you’re getting cocky, huh? Bullying the class monitor?!” Zhang Ya’s loyal follower jumped out, reaching over to clap a hand down on Jiang Xiwen’s shoulder.

Turning his head, Jiang Xiwen saw that it was his nemesis—no escape, after all. It was Liu Fan, the math class representative, who used to love mocking him in front of the girls for no reason at all, as if that was the only way to display his “math prince” charm.

Rumor had it that Liu Fan’s father was wealthy and influential, the head of Zhengfeng Group, the largest private enterprise in Yangjiang City. Coupled with Liu Fan’s decent grades, many teachers took special care of him. Some middle-achieving students liked to follow him around, forming a clique that swaggered about the class.

Jiang Xiwen remembered that in both middle and high school, every class seemed to have such a group. Their grades were never the very best, but always within the top twenty. These “half-buckets of water”—mediocre but noisy—were often the loudest and loved to publicly ridicule the struggling students.

Once Liu Fan stepped up, the rest of his cronies buzzed over like flies.

Facing Liu Fan’s provocation, Jiang Xiwen would have once lowered his head, blushed, and dared not make a sound. But now, even beating Liu Fan up felt like a waste of time.

With a look of utter disdain, Jiang Xiwen said, “Would you mind stepping aside? I need to go pee…”

“What did you say?!” Liu Fan could hardly believe his ears. He never expected that someone he’d bullied for years would dare challenge his authority in this way.

Jiang Xiwen retorted coldly, “What, are you going to stop me from going to the bathroom?” With that, he stood up, pushed the stunned Liu Fan aside, and strode out of the classroom.

It wasn’t until Jiang Xiwen had left that Liu Fan snapped out of it. The brat had actually been talking to him. Swearing under his breath, Liu Fan glanced back at Zhang Ya, who was still frowning in a daze, and grumbled, “Class monitor, Jiang Xiwen has gone too far. Let’s report him to Teacher Tan again, plus the fact that he wasn’t paying attention in class. He’ll be in real trouble.”

“If you want to tattle, do it yourself. Leave me out of it.” Zhang Ya tossed back coldly, pulling out her math book for the next period and pretending to read. But inside, she was cursing Jiang Xiwen furiously—no one had ever humiliated her like that, or spoken to her so harshly.

Liu Fan awkwardly turned away, barking at the other classmates, “What are you all staring at? Mind your own business!”

It wasn’t the first time Zhang Ya had shut him down. Every boy who tried to get close to her had been treated the same way, though Liu Fan had faced it the most—not because Zhang Ya hated him, but because he was thick-skinned and tried his luck most often.

In this class, only Zhang Ya could embarrass Liu Fan. And now, Jiang Xiwen, the boy he’d always treated like an ant, had made him lose face. There was no way he could swallow that humiliation.

“Liu Fan, don’t be angry. That kid hardly says a word, and if he wasn’t out of his mind today, he’d never dare talk to you like that. We’ll find a chance to deal with him,” one of the cronies tried to console him, and the others quickly chimed in.

Soon, surrounded by his flatterers, Liu Fan’s face broke into a sinister smile. Still, he found it odd that Zhang Ya wasn’t angry about Jiang Xiwen’s “violent” shoulder shove and was calmly reading as if nothing had happened.

After relieving himself, Jiang Xiwen ran into Gong Xiang.

The same familiar, handsome youth. Jiang Xiwen could barely believe his eyes until Gong Xiang greeted him: “Hey man, why are you spacing out? Want to try my Southern Star Waterfowl Fist?” Only then did Jiang Xiwen realize, with a jolt, that Gong Xiang was really standing before him.

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Jiang Xiwen’s eyes grew misty—he hadn’t expected to see his closest friend again, suddenly appearing out of nowhere after a lifetime apart. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, then rushed forward and gave Gong Xiang a fierce hug, his face full of excitement: “Man, I’ve missed you so much!”

Gong Xiang was startled, pushing Jiang Xiwen away as if shocked by electricity, then raised his fists into a defensive pose. “Trying to ambush me? Not a chance!”

Damn, got something in my eye. Watching those familiar gestures and hearing that familiar voice, Jiang Xiwen bit his lower lip to force back the tears. “You saw through me that fast—impressive! I just wanted to get on your good side and borrow your Sega console. Can you bring it tomorrow?”

Jiang Xiwen really did want to play on the sixteen-bit Sega—those games brought back so many beautiful memories, a feeling no computer emulator could ever provide. But even more important than nostalgia, only by getting hold of the console could he prevent Gong Xiang from disappearing.

“Damn, no wonder I sneezed while peeing just now. Should’ve known you were up to something,” Gong Xiang grumbled. “But my Sega’s broken. I was planning to challenge Unbeatable Zhang this Sunday.”

“What? Broken?” Jiang Xiwen was stunned; this didn’t match his memory.

But… if it was broken, then Gong Xiang wouldn’t be going out on Sunday. Jiang Xiwen smiled, “That’s good, that’s really good.”

“What did you say? I—” Gong Xiang let out a strange yelp and threw a playful punch.

Seeing his best friend again, Jiang Xiwen was in high spirits. He played along, laughing, “Northern Dipper’s Seven Death Stars Strike…”

Fist of the North Star had been all the rage after Saint Seiya. In those days, you could hear boys yelling anime moves in every school corridor between classes.

The two of them horsed around as they walked back into class, only to be met by a shrill screech from behind: “If you want to fight, do it at home, not in my class!”

It was the sharp, scolding voice of their math teacher—nicknamed “Extinction Wen”—a sound Jiang Xiwen hadn’t heard in years but remembered all too well. He’d always thought her voice could rival heavy metal rock.

Gong Xiang shot her an awkward grin and hurried to his seat just as the class bell rang. Jiang Xiwen said no more and returned to his own desk.

He spent the lesson daydreaming as usual, idly spinning his pen and pondering his plans for this new life.

His most immediate skill was computers. If he wanted to make his first pot of money early and invest in the coming internet age, the simplest way would be to write business software suited to this era with great future potential, find a company to partner with, and seize the market ahead of time. Writing programs wasn’t difficult for Jiang Xiwen, but finding a company might prove tricky.

Moreover, it was only 1993—his family couldn’t possibly afford to buy him a computer, nor was there any other place he could get his hands on one.

He remembered that only after entering high school did the school allow students into the computer lab, and even then, only the top students—since in the exam-focused world of Chinese high school, everything else was just a diversion.

His other strength was writing novels. To be more precise, this talent would only become truly valuable after his rebirth.

Jiang Xiwen could easily use his knowledge of future web fiction trends to write brilliant plots ahead of time, then, several years down the line, upload them one by one, perhaps even start his own web fiction site. That was another path to success.

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Unfortunately, making money from novels was even less realistic than profiting from business software. Until the internet became widespread, he could forget about earning a dime that way.

After thinking it over, the only solution was to get his hands on a computer as soon as possible. But until he found a place to use one, all he could do was prepare patiently.

In the days to come, he would have to write and also quickly review all his high school courses, especially the areas he’d been weak in before—like spoken English. He didn’t want to be at a disadvantage there again. If he wanted to beat Lin Zheng, he would surely have to deal with foreigners in the future.

He also had to rekindle his feel for coding and rebuild a systematic approach to programming in his mind. For a hacker, spending too long on repetitive code would dull his creativity. For a programmer stuck in routine work, not writing code for a long stretch would make him forget almost everything.

Jiang Xiwen had experienced both in his previous life. Now that he’d restarted his body, his mind had to be restored to peak condition.

Another crucial point was physical training. He needed to strengthen his body—health was the most fundamental capital for creating wealth. Having suffered illness and even died slumped over his desk, Jiang Xiwen was determined to forge not just a keen mind but also a strong physique in this life.

Only then would he truly be a protagonist—a perfect protagonist, Jiang Xiwen thought to himself, spinning his pen faster and faster.

Zhang Ya had lost count of how many times she’d glanced at Jiang Xiwen. This was probably the most she’d ever looked at him in three years. His earlier behavior infuriated her more every time she thought of it.

Absolutely infuriating. Jiang Xiwen, you’ve ruined my focus in class. I will make sure you’re punished!

Fine, spinning your pen in class? I’ll report you right now. Zhang Ya withdrew her gaze, about to raise her hand, but when she saw Extinction Wen’s face, she reconsidered.

No, if I want to get him in trouble, it can’t be in Extinction Wen’s class. If she catches me, I’ll be punished too. Just you wait, Jiang Xiwen—I’ll make you pay for crossing me.

“Teacher, Jiang Xiwen isn’t paying attention—he’s still spinning his pen…” Just as Zhang Ya gave up on tattling, Liu Fan, sitting one aisle over from Jiang Xiwen, raised his hand and spoke up.

“What?” Extinction Wen, in the middle of a spittle-flecked tirade, turned to Jiang Xiwen. Seeing that Liu Fan was right, she flew into a rage: “Jiang Xiwen, what are you doing?”

No response…

“Jiang Xiwen? Jiang Xiwen, stand up right now!”

Whizz—an eraser struck Jiang Xiwen squarely on the forehead, jolting him out of his musings and plans.

“Who—who the hell hit me?” Anyone would be furious, getting smacked out of nowhere like that while deep in thought.

Swish—all heads turned in unison. Countless eyes fixed on Jiang Xiwen. The classroom fell utterly silent.