DLRAS Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Be stronger from now on and live well

Chen Wengang came from a humble background, yet for some unknown reason, his life was a constant series of dramatic ups and downs.

He was born into an ordinary urban family in Jin City. His mother died when he was young, and his father was a driver for the Zheng family, chauffeuring the head of the household, Zheng Bingyi. Fortunately, the Zhengs were a wealthy and established family, and his father’s generous salary meant Chen Wengang lived without want, enjoying a relatively carefree childhood.

Unfortunately, when Chen Wengang was nine, his father died on the job, sacrificing himself to protect his employer in a car crash.

Not wanting to be seen as heartless, Old Master Zheng adopted his subordinate’s orphaned son as his godson and raised him.

Still just a child, Chen Wengang arrived at the Zheng family villa with his father’s portrait in his luggage. Upon arrival, he saw a boy of about his age smiling cheekily at him from the second-floor balcony. As he entered the living room, that same boy slid down the banister of the spiral staircase and, with a brilliant, sunny smile, extended his hand to Chen Wengang.

“Hello, my name is Zheng Yucheng.”

Jin City was a populous port city, situated by the river and sea, with numerous waterways and a constellation of docks facilitating a prosperous trade. The Zheng, Huo, Li, and He families were all shipping dynasties, their branches intertwined, their status and wealth objects of admiration.

Old Master Zheng Bingyi, known in Jin City as the “Shipping King”, was the patriarch, and Zheng Yucheng was his eldest son.

From that day on, Chen Wengang was transformed from a driver’s son into the adopted son of a wealthy family, a study partner for the heir.

Old Master Zheng had him study alongside his own children, providing for his food, clothing, and education without distinction. As Chen Wengang grew older, he proved to be a fine young man—well-mannered, gentle-tempered, and as outstanding in character as he was in appearance. Old Master Zheng grew increasingly fond of his sensible and capable adopted son, often asking him to tutor Zheng Yucheng.

Chen Wengang had no reason to refuse and was always by Zheng Yucheng’s side.

But he knew his place and understood his limits, never acting as Zheng Yucheng’s equal in public. Just as his father had driven for Old Master Zheng, he was now responsible for carrying Zheng Yucheng’s bag, running errands, and relaying messages, managing the trivial matters of daily life like a quiet, gentle shadow.

This continued until his coming-of-age birthday party. After the colorful lights of the banquet hall were extinguished and the night grew late, Zheng Yucheng took his hand in a deserted corner and said, “Wengang, I’ve never thought you were inferior. From now on, let me be the one to take care of you.”

The eighteen-year-old Zheng Yucheng was tall and handsome, impulsive and passionate, with a fiery light in his eyes. Chen Wengang’s heart was finally moved.

In the days that followed, it was also Zheng Yucheng who, step by step, dragged him into the abyss.

…

As evening approached, Chen Wengang finished his shift at work, and a colleague took over at the cash register.

The customer next in line breathed a sigh of relief but continued to steal glances at him. After all, half of his face was burned, a terrifying sight, and his right eyeball was also injured. The customer was probably wondering if he could still see out of that eye.

For a disabled person like him, finding work was already difficult. He was a university dropout who had also been to prison. He was only able to get a job at this convenience store thanks to the owner’s abundant compassion and commendable courage. No one would ever believe the stories of his former glory.

He walked along the river, his gaze drawn to a newsstand on the roadside. He paused for a moment and bought a tabloid.

Deep autumn had arrived, and the wind was cold and sharp, furiously whipping the newspaper in his hands. The front-page headline featured the still-glamorous face of Zheng Yucheng.

Zheng Yucheng’s current wife, Miss He, was heavily pregnant. Without makeup, her face glowed with a maternal radiance. Her husband was doting and attentive, and the gossip reporter had given the photo a prominent headline, calling their love enviable.

The sky darkened, and the river tide surged. Clumps of reeds along the bank swayed ominously, heralding the coming storm.

His grip loosened, and a sudden gust of wind swept the newspaper pages away, tossing them high into the air before they fell onto the river’s surface, bobbing with the waves.

Chen Wengang let them go. He walked to an abandoned, graffiti-covered bridge underpass, pulled a crumpled cigarette from his pocket, and fumbled for a while before finding a cheap, complimentary lighter. Shielding the flame with his hand, he watched it tremble as it slowly licked the tobacco to life.

Just as fire cannot be wrapped in paper, his secret affair with Zheng Yucheng, which had lasted two years, was bound to be exposed sooner or later.

That period had been a tumultuous time for Chen Wengang. First, he endured a barrage of rumors and malicious slander over their relationship, with people saying he was overreaching and trying to climb the social ladder. Later, he was falsely accused of plagiarism and misconduct, causing him to lose the opportunity for further studies.

Regarding the latter, Zheng Yucheng comforted him, “Don’t worry, there’s always a solution. And even in the worst case, most people need a diploma to find a good job. But in our family, you and I are both getting experience at the company. You’re doing so well, and Dad recognizes your abilities. As long as the Zheng Corporation exists, how could you ever be without a livelihood?”

Chen Wengang was not as optimistic.

Zheng Yucheng’s words were tinged with selfishness; he preferred having Chen Wengang help him at the company rather than stay in an ivory tower.

But even though Chen Wengang was devoted to him, he had to admit that as a businessman, the young master Zheng Yucheng was all style and no substance. Old Master Zheng had other sons, and their relatives were no pushovers either.

They watched like tigers, and if Zheng Yucheng wanted to secure his position and be the one to have the last laugh, he needed support.

Chen Wengang would, of course, help him. That was one part of it.

The second part was that Old Master Zheng had given his son a better option.

Old Master Zheng had arranged a marriage for Zheng Yucheng with a family of equal standing.

Zheng Yucheng threw a massive fit over the arranged marriage, but in the end, there was nothing he could do. Chen Wengang had long had a premonition that, whether willingly or by force, Zheng Yucheng was destined to end up with that Miss He.

It was, in fact, a wise decision.

In the Zheng family, there were those who did real work and those who made trouble. The latter were more numerous, and eventually, something went wrong, escalating to a criminal offense that implicated Zheng Yucheng. The marriage with the He family would not only save him but also secure a better future for him.

But the crime remained—the law is unforgiving. When the financial crime investigators came knocking, someone had to take responsibility.

On the eve of Zheng Yucheng’s wedding, Chen Wengang repaid Old Master Zheng’s kindness and did one last thing for the Zheng family.

He took the blame for Zheng Yucheng and went to prison.

The sentence for a financial crime was not long, only two years, which would pass with some endurance. However, in prison, Chen Wengang unexpectedly got into a conflict.

With his looks, he easily attracted trouble inside, and his refusal to back down inevitably annoyed the prison gangs. But the accident was something no one could have predicted. One day, returning from the yard, an inmate suddenly threw acid, obtained from who knows where, at him.

Chen Wengang was disfigured but was granted medical parole. Zheng Yucheng sent someone to pick him up but did not show up himself.

At that point, there was no need to speak of old affections. They were never going to see each other again anyway.

Under the bridge, a small spark of light flickered. Chen Wengang’s reminiscence was interrupted by the crunch of withered leaves under someone’s feet. The person, backlit, walked closer. Leaning against the graffiti-covered wall, Chen Wengang squinted to see who it was—Huo Niansheng.

He wondered what brought this big shot here. He held his cigarette and pulled his baseball cap lower, but the other man relentlessly called out to him.

“Wengang.”

Huo Niansheng came closer and, upon confirming it was him, raised an eyebrow.

In the past, it was common for wealthy sons to look down on people like Chen Wengang, taking pleasure in mocking him. Huo Niansheng had been one of them, a playboy. His presence now was unlikely to be for any kind purpose.

As expected, his first words were laced with ridicule. “I heard what happened. You ended up like this for Zheng Yucheng?”

Chen Wengang wasn’t sure how to respond. He glanced at him and answered dismissively, “Yeah.”

Huo Niansheng took a cigarette from a high-end case and placed it between his lips. Instead of leaving, he stood his ground.

He frowned, carefully studying Chen Wengang’s face. Sensitive to stares, Chen Wengang subtly turned his head away, biting the cigarette filter, a wave of annoyance rising within him.

Suddenly, Huo Niansheng’s brow relaxed, and he leaned in with a flirtatious air. Chen Wengang resisted the urge to flinch and watched his movement.

Huo Niansheng moved closer and closer, his breath warm and near. He lowered his head slightly and, as it turned out, just wanted to borrow a light.

He touched their cigarette tips together. Once his was lit, he stepped back to his original position.

Chen Wengang was a bit stunned. Huo Niansheng said something else, but his mind had drifted, and he only caught the end of it. “You, weren’t you always so proud? So what happened? How did you end up in such a miserable state?”

“Young Master Huo, life is full of disappointments,” he replied with vague submissiveness. “Is there anything else?”

“Where are you living now?”

“The old wharf district.”

“Is that place even habitable? It’s like a slum.” Huo Niansheng chuckled, exhaling smoke, his eyes still fixed on his face as if studying it for a flower. After a moment, he changed the subject. “Looking at your injury, you should probably stop smoking.”

“Okay.”

“You should find a decent doctor later and get it properly checked.”

“Alright.”

“How about it? I’ll do you a favor. If you’re really homeless, why don’t you come with me?”

This time, Chen Wengang was genuinely surprised. “I have no value for you to exploit.”

Huo Niansheng shrugged, patting his shoulder. “You underestimate yourself. You have your uses.”

Chen Wengang finished the rest of his cigarette, stubbed it out, coughed softly a few times, and got into Huo Niansheng’s car.

He didn’t ask any questions. After all, he was now the one with no choice. His jacket was thin, no match for the biting wind. He had a place to live, but the houses in the old wharf district were indeed dilapidated, drafty, with grass growing on the roofs. Daylight streamed in, and the weather forecast predicted a typhoon tonight, which meant it would likely leak. He hadn’t even managed to get a thick quilt for his bed.

He had enough pride not to take Zheng Yucheng’s money. After paying rent and buying food, he had just enough left for a pack of cheap cigarettes to numb himself.

Not long after the black car drove off, the long-brewing cold rain began to pour down in a torrent, fogging up the windows.

Chen Wengang hugged his arms and leaned back in his seat. The blast of warm air from the heater paradoxically made him shiver with cold. Huo Niansheng took off his suit jacket and draped it over him.

From then on, for seven years, Chen Wengang was Huo Niansheng’s secret lover.

…

When he received the news of Huo Niansheng’s death, Chen Wengang was at home, quietly reading.

For years, he had lived in a remote villa on a mountainside, a recluse. Aside from Huo Niansheng’s occasional visits, Chen Wengang rarely saw anyone. Huo Niansheng provided him with a place to live, food, and clothes, and they slept together. It was no different from being kept, and there was no mention of how long it would last.

Chen Wengang knew this life was a form of degradation, but he was just getting by day by day.

He once thought the rest of his life would pass just like this.

Huo Niansheng’s personal assistant, a woman named Amanda, was the one who called to deliver the terrible news: the cruise ship had been lost at sea, and her boss had died in the accident. It had happened so suddenly. She drove to pick up Chen Wengang herself so he could see Huo Niansheng one last time.

In the morgue, Huo Niansheng’s face was peaceful in death. Chen Wengang looked at him calmly, not saying a word.

Amanda secretly felt it was a shame for her employer. This person by his side, in the end, was as close as a spouse yet as distant as a stranger.

In her usual professional tone, she told Chen Wengang that the accident was likely related to internal family struggles.

Afterward, things became very busy. A lawyer came to see Chen Wengang—Huo Niansheng had written a will before his death, leaving his entire fortune to him.

Chen Wengang signed the documents brought by the lawyer one by one. When he reached the last one, his pen hovered, hesitating to fall.

Amanda glanced at him and froze. Chen Wengang’s eyes were red as he stared blankly. Only his left eye was intact; his right was a prosthetic. A single tear fell onto the nib of the pen, blurring the ink. He gave a small smile and pulled out a tissue to wipe it away. “My apologies.”

The lawyer also brought Chen Wengang a final letter from Huo Niansheng, written before his death and sealed in an empty wine bottle.

Everyone left the room. When Chen Wengang was alone, he opened the letter.

He couldn’t imagine what Huo Niansheng could have left to say to him. His mind, unlike his face, was in turmoil. He unfolded the letter and had to read it several times to comprehend the characters. Huo Niansheng had written: “…I never knew if you ever truly loved me, not even once. It’s a shame that in this lifetime, I’ll probably never know. I’ve left you enough to live on. Be strong from now on, and live well.”

The handwriting was messy, the final stroke piercing through the back of the paper.

Chen Wengang raised a hand to cover his eyes.

…

In the decade that followed, when media outlets wrote profiles on him, they often referred to it as Chen Wengang’s “golden decade.”

This was also a decade when the power structure of Jin City was reshuffled. After an internal cleansing, the Huo family’s star dimmed, while the name Chen became the new rising power. A reporter saw Zheng Yucheng chasing after Chen Wengang on a golf course, looking like a stray dog, though it was a pity they couldn’t hear what was being said.

Amanda came over to handle the reporters, telling them not to publish any nonsense.

Over the years, neither Amanda nor Huo Niansheng’s lawyer had resigned; they had instead started working for Chen Wengang.

In the eyes of the media, Chen Wengang may not have been the wealthiest man in Jin City, but he was certainly the most prominent, whether due to his legendary rise or his unexpected actions. He was tough in his methods but retired at his peak, using the immense fortune left by Huo Niansheng to establish the “Niansheng Foundation.” He dedicated himself full-time to charity, funding orphanages and nursing homes, helping impoverished students, and promoting special education. As a result, whenever voices emerged accusing him of seeking fame, they were always met with rebuttals like this:

“If a person can ‘perform’ compassion for the poor and weak for ten years straight, I invite the critics to lead by example and pretend to do the same. The public needs more philanthropists like Mr. Chen who quietly do good deeds, not commentators who just make cynical remarks.”

On Christmas Eve, Amanda was working late in Chen Wengang’s office, checking a new shipment of donated supplies.

Having worked together for many years, they were more like old friends than superior and subordinate. Snow began to fall outside, thick and fast. Chen Wengang stood by the window, a large dog resting at his feet. He watched the snow, chatting idly with her. “Speaking of which, how many years have you been working for me?”

Amanda remembered clearly. “It’s been ten years, I think.”

Chen Wengang suddenly asked, “Miss Yang, you’ve been so busy with work all these years and never married. Do you have any regrets?”

Amanda laughed. “Why are you being so old-fashioned? I have a successful career. Do I really need a man to be the icing on the cake?”

Chen Wengang smiled and said he wanted to give her a long vacation for the new year. After working so hard for so many years, she deserved a good rest. They chatted and laughed, wished each other a Merry Christmas, and said their holiday goodbyes. As Amanda was pushing the door open to leave, she heard a murmur from behind her.

“Ten years, life and death, a boundless haze…”

It was as faint as a sigh or words from a dream.

She turned her head and saw Chen Wengang still standing by the window in the same position. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if she had really heard it or just imagined it.

Chen Wengang forced Amanda to take a leisurely new year’s holiday, but she never imagined that something would happen as soon as she left.

She was on her way to the airport, planning to fly to a tropical island, when she got a call from a subordinate. The person on the other end was incoherent, and someone could be heard sobbing softly in the background. “…The ceiling suddenly collapsed… it was already a condemned building, probably from disrepair… a female teacher and children were there… Mr. Chen, to protect them… an ambulance? It already came, but…”

From that “but” and the sound of weeping, Amanda sensed something ominous.

Her sharp, capable mind went blank for a rare moment, unable to function or think. She calmly soothed her subordinate and rushed back. Stepping off the escalator, she tripped, her knee hitting the ground hard. She heard a song playing over the airport speakers:

“A single grain of wheat, if it does not fall into the earth and die,
No matter how much time passes, it remains by itself…
But if it is willing to let itself be buried and used up,
It will surely bear much fruit, and witness a miracle of life…”

As airport staff helped her slowly to her feet, an indescribable grief and sorrow washed over her.

Her subordinate called again, this time unable to hold back the tears. “Mr. Chen, he—”

At 10:10 AM, he was pronounced dead after rescue efforts failed.

…

In the immense sensation of dying, Chen Wengang also heard a song on the radio.

The voice was singing something about “witnessing a miracle of life.” He clutched the fabric over his chest and rolled off the bed in agony.

His limbs were numb, and his heart pounded like a drum, threatening to burst from his chest. His vision was a hazy gray, and he couldn’t see anything clearly.

The feeling was not unfamiliar. His groggy consciousness could barely distinguish whether this was the sensation of death or another visit from his old friend, a panic attack. After an unknown amount of time, Chen Wengang gritted his teeth and slowly sat up, as if having survived a catastrophe.

The surroundings were both familiar and strange, but something was more off than the environment itself.

After a long while, Chen Wengang realized what it was—the coordination of distance and balance from two eyes had somehow returned to him. With this long-lost vision, he looked around and recognized where he was: the bedroom he had lived in at the Zheng family home during his youth.

Chen Wengang pushed himself up from the carpet and instinctively looked for a mirror. In the full-length mirror, he saw a smooth, unblemished face.

It had not yet been weathered by time and hardship. There was no fear, no shadow, not even obvious shock—just a gentle and peaceful expression.

Chen Wengang’s gaze shifted to the desk calendar.

This was the face of his twenty-year-old self.

__

Author’s Note:

The lyrics are from the hymn “A Grain of Wheat”, inspired by the revelation in the Gospel of John: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” This reflects Xiao Chen’s character; he is someone who has been rained on himself and has always held an umbrella for others.

Xiao Chen had already lived a very full life in his past life. This second chance is to make up for missed regrets. He will gain many admirers, in love, friendship, and family. It might, perhaps, inevitably lead to a bit of a dramatic love triangle (the author makes no guarantees; it will depend on the plot).

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