Chapter 1

His head was muddled, feeling as if countless voices were echoing in his ears and countless images were swirling in his mind, vague and fragmented, making it impossible for Xiao Yuan to sort out his thoughts. Before long, Xiao Yuan fell into a deep sleep. After an unknown amount of time, he finally woke up, suddenly realizing that his mind was filled with many memories he had never experienced. These memories were unprecedented yet so familiar, as if they were innate. For a moment, he felt at a loss, unable to distinguish who he truly was.

Was he Xiao Yuan, an indoor disciple of Wangwu Mountain in the "Xiao You Qing Xu Tian," the first cave heaven of the Divine Land, or was he Zhang Chengyuan, an ordinary high school student from the Guro District of Seoul, South Korea? Wait, what kind of country was South Korea? What kind of identity was a high school student? These titles were both familiar and strange.

As Xiao Yuan was pondering, his head suddenly felt as if it was about to burst, as if something was surging from the depths of his mind, telling him what kind of country South Korea was, what a high school student was, and even bringing up many of Zhang Chengyuan's past experiences.

Zhang Chengyuan, male, born on February 24, 1983, in the small country on the southern part of the Korean Peninsula, which he remembered as South Korea. His mother died of a serious illness when he was nine, leaving only his father, Zhang Donghu, to raise him.

From the memories in his mind, he learned that it was 1998, and Zhang Chengyuan had been unconscious since the end of June. By South Korean standards, since he was born before March, he could be considered to be from 1982, and he was now 17 years old, a first-year student at a high school (equivalent to a first-year high school student in China).

During his elementary school years, without his mother's care and with his father often on business trips, he never attended a single parent-teacher meeting. His classmates thought he was an orphan raised by the government, and they bullied him relentlessly. Zhang Chengyuan, who often went without regular meals and had a frail body, could not resist and often cried, with no one to turn to for help. Over time, he developed a reclusive, timid, and quiet personality. Even before he fell into a coma, he was often extorted for pocket money by students from his school and even neighboring schools, and he dared not speak up. No one stood up for him because he had no friends and was seen as a negligible person by everyone.

In the eyes of his teachers, he was a quiet, well-behaved, and rule-abiding student with average grades, neither outstanding enough to attract attention nor poor enough to require special tutoring.

In the eyes of his male classmates, he was so skinny that a strong wind could blow him away. If he were to join in a fight, he would not boost morale but rather boost the other side's confidence.

In the eyes of his female classmates, Zhang Chengyuan was a bumpkin, even more destitute than children from the mountains of Gangwon Province. Only the poor North Koreans featured in KBS documentaries in recent years could be compared to him. He was so unsophisticated that the girls, who were obsessed with handsome boys and celebrities, would not even spare him a glance.

In Zhang Chengyuan's own eyes, he was a complete wimp, lacking the courage to resist bullying and could only pity himself and lick his wounds alone. No one would pity him, not even his father, who ignored him. Everyone treated him as if he were invisible, except when they were bullying him.

Rather than living a meaningless and painful life, he thought it would be better to leave this oppressive world early, like those who committed suicide due to the pressure of college entrance exams, saving his father the future tuition fees. Perhaps without him as a burden, his father could remarry and form a happy family, and he could reunite with his mother in another world and be reborn.

A fleeting thought led Zhang Chengyuan to entertain the idea of suicide.

On June 29, 1998, the last day of the first semester, on his way home, Zhang Chengyuan was dragged to a secluded place by a few delinquent students and beaten up severely. They also broke the old automatic watch his mother had left him, tearing the strap and throwing it to the ground. This watch, the most precious memento from his mother, reminded him of her kind and regretful face before she died and her words, "Chengyuan, you must live well!" It was his emotional anchor and the only reason he had to live.

Enraged and ashamed, Zhang Chengyuan, for the first time in seven years, lashed out, unexpectedly biting one of the bullies on the face with a ferocious determination. Unfortunately, before he could tear off a piece of flesh, he was beaten to a pulp by the enraged bullies, nearly losing consciousness.

When Zhang Chengyuan finally managed to get up, the delinquents had already left, cursing and laughing. He was left alone, holding his mother's broken watch and sobbing uncontrollably because he could no longer hear the ticking of the second hand, which sounded like his mother's gentle voice in his childhood.

Exhausted from crying and heartbroken, Zhang Chengyuan carefully placed the watch in his inner pocket, slowly got up, and felt no physical pain, only heartache. At that moment, he could only think of one thing: "Mom, I'm coming to be with you soon! Wait for me!"

Stumbling, Zhang Chengyuan did not go home but headed towards the Han River.

The Han River is a famous river in South Korea, long regarded as the mother river of Seoul. Whether it was named after flowing through Seoul (renamed Seoul in January 2005) or Seoul was named after the Han River, Zhang Chengyuan, who rarely read extracurricular books, could not be sure. He only knew that the Han River was the most popular and spectacular suicide spot in South Korea.

The herd mentality is a common human flaw, and Zhang Chengyuan, in his current state, had no interest in thinking of a unique way to die. Jumping into the Han River to drown was the fastest and most romantic method he could think of. Dying in the rolling waters of the mother river that gave birth to Seoul would be like returning to his mother's embrace, warm and comforting.

From the southwestern Guro District of Seoul to the Yeouido area by the Han River, Zhang Chengyuan did not know how long he had walked. The sky had long since darkened, and the Han River was lit up with brilliant lights, the modern city atmosphere permeating the entire river. The shimmering water under the lights reflected the ingenuity of the people of Seoul who created the industrial miracle of the Han River, and it also witnessed the final moments of many who sought death.

Over the Han River in Seoul, there were more than twenty modern bridges, and almost every one had seen people "bravely" jump from them into the vast river. Among them, the Mapo Bridge on Yeouido had become the favorite spot for those who wanted to jump into the river in recent years. Perhaps because after the 1997 Asian financial crisis, the South Korean economy suffered a significant blow, and some failed financial professionals on Yeouido, unable to bear the pain of bankruptcy and finding jumping from tall buildings too destructive to their bodies, chose to jump from the Mapo Bridge, the closest bridge to Yeouido. This way, their bodies would remain intact, as the government would quickly rescue them, though by the time they were pulled out, they were mostly already dead.

Today, the Mapo Bridge might be Zhang Chengyuan's last stop in life. He staggered onto the bridge, preparing to make the bravest move of his life.

However, it seemed that fate was against him, even refusing to grant his final wish. As he walked onto the bridge, preparing to gaze at the Han River, whether due to a dazed state of mind or the blood streaming from his eyes blurring his vision, Zhang Chengyuan unfortunately stepped into the motor vehicle lane and was hit by a speeding artist's chauffeur car. In that moment, he seemed to see his mother's bright and smiling face in the sky, so loving and warm, and his father's stern eyes, which held a hint of reluctance. His last thought was: "Father, please don't be sad for me, live a happy life!"

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