The clock struck the hour with a dull chime overhead.
Professor Liu, standing before the sea of students, closed his laptop with a definitive click.
"That's it for today," he said, his tone brisk but not unkind. "Exams are approaching. Don't wait until the last minute to regret your choices."
A scattered chorus of groans and laughter rippled across the students, but already backpacks were zipping closed and chairs scraping against the tiled floor.
The tide of movement swelled toward the exit doors.
Amidst the drifting crowd, the scene lingered — zooming in — onto a figure sitting quietly at his desk.
His short black hair was slightly tousled, like he hadn't bothered to comb it properly that morning. A pair of simple, classic glasses perched on his nose, their thin frames slightly crooked from wear.
His dark eyes looked dulled by exhaustion. Deep shadows clung beneath them — the price of too many late nights spent buried under textbooks and borrowed lecture notes.
His build was lean rather than strong, the kind of frame molded not by gym routines but by long hours hunched over desks, sprinting between deadlines.
He let out a quiet sigh and pressed his fingers against his temples, massaging slow circles in a vain attempt to push back the pounding headache forming behind his eyes.
Then, suddenly—
"Young Master Zhou!" a loud, theatrical voice called out.
Zhou Chen looked up, blinking behind his glasses.
A figure was standing dramatically atop a chair, one hand raised high as if holding a mighty sword, the other tucked behind his back. His face was serious — far too serious for how ridiculous he looked. Xu Liang.
"I, the supreme cultivator of the Heavenly Might Cloud," Xu Liang declared in a booming voice, "have come to bestow upon you a forbidden technique to conquer exams in one night!"
Several students nearby snickered, some throwing amused glances.
From the other side of the chair, a chubby figure stumbled over, clutching his chest as if wounded, coughing weakly.
"Beware!" he gasped out. "The Forbidden technique comes with a great cost!"
Zhou Chen blinked, the corners of his lips twitching in quiet amusement.
Meng Yao wheezed, "The price... the price is far too great for mortal minds!" He raised a hand toward the ceiling dramatically. "The Demonic Forces of Sleep Deprivation will consume your very soul! You will be driven to madness by endless caffeine and late-night cramming!"
Xu Liang struck a pose, thrusting his chest out proudly. "But if you survive, Young Master, you will emerge victorious — an immortal, unparalleled in knowledge!" He gave Zhou Chen a wink. "Of course, you have to survive first."
Zhou Chen could only shake his head with a weary smile. "I think I'll pass on the soul-devouring technique. I'm more of a 'study until I drop' kind of person."
Meng Yao chuckled, his hand resting on his stomach. "Ah, but Zhou Chen, your mortal body can't handle that much knowledge! Your mind will burst from the strain!"
"Not to mention," Xu Liang added, "your spirit flow will be disrupted, and you'll lose all your cultivation potential for the next exam cycle!"
Zhou Chen sighed again, this time in exasperation. "You two are impossible."
Their antics, though absurd, were a welcome distraction. In this fleeting moment, he could almost forget the mounting pressure of his 'studies'... almost.
As they gathered their bags and slung them over their shoulders, Xu Liang suddenly clapped his hands together, eyes lighting up.
"By the way!" he said, practically bouncing on his heels. "Did you guys read the latest chapter of Great Supreme Heavenly Demon God Reincarnation? It's insane!"
Meng Yao groaned theatrically. "Don't remind me! I stayed up all night binging it. That cliffhanger?! The main character gets betrayed by his own sect and then... boom! Reincarnates into the mortal world!"
Xu Liang nodded eagerly, his voice rising with excitement. "Exactly! And now he's building his power back up from scratch! They say he's gonna become even stronger than in his first life!"
Zhou Chen, fiddling distractedly with the strap of his backpack, muttered under his breath without thinking, "…Reincarnation."
The word slipped out so softly, it was almost lost under the chatter around them.
But as it left his lips, a sharp pain lanced through his skull — sudden and blinding, like a white-hot needle driving between his eyes.
He winced, bringing a hand up to his forehead.
"Zhou Chen?" Meng Yao leaned closer, frowning. "You okay, man?"
"I'm fine," Zhou Chen said quickly, forcing a small smile. The pain was already receding, leaving behind a faint, throbbing ache — and a strange, hollow pull feeling in his chest he couldn't explain.
Xu Liang grinned, oblivious. "Careful, Zhou! Maybe you're the reincarnated demon god, and you just triggered your hidden memories."
Meng Yao snorted. "Yeah, right. If Zhou Chen was some mighty reincarnated being, he'd use it to pass the exams first."
Zhou Chen chuckled helplessly along with them. "Come on," he said, slinging his backpack higher on his shoulder, "let's go grab something to drink. I need something cold before my brain completely melts."
"Now you're speaking my language!" Xu Liang, whooped, already leading the charge toward the supermarket down the campus street.
The afternoon sun hung low, casting long, lazy shadows across the pavement as they made their way through the thinning crowds of students.
They turned the corner near the convenience store, a little bell jingling faintly from the entrance.
While walking, Zhou Chen caught sight of a figure out of the corner of his eye, tucked into a shadowed corner just outside.
An old beggar sat there, slumped against the cold brick wall. His robes were little more than stitched-together rags, hanging loosely on a body whittled down by hunger and time.
Hair—perhaps once black—now hung in a tangled gray mess around his shoulders.
His hands — cracked, calloused, and trembling — fumbled weakly with a dry crust of barley bread, as if even the simple act of eating was a battle against frailty.
The world bustled indifferently around him, students and shoppers stepping past without so much as a glance — as if he didn't exist.
Zhou Chen's gaze didn't linger.
He turned his head away, letting himself be pulled along by the momentum of his friends' chatter.
"Hey, what are you guys getting?" Meng Yao called from the aisle, arms full of random snacks and bottles as he browsed with a critical eye.
Zhou Chen managed a small smile. "Tea's fine."
At that, Xu Liang gave a theatrical gasp. "Tea?!" he exclaimed, spinning dramatically on his heel.
With an exaggerated flourish, he plucked a can from the shelf — a bright black one with shimmering gold letters that read Rebirth — the latest trendy beverage.
He struck a pose like some ancient immortal descending to the mortal world. "Fools! Do you not see? This," he intoned, waving the can as if it were a divine artifact, "is the secret to achieving true immortality!"
Meng Yao burst out laughing, almost dropping the bag of chips he was holding. "Yeah, right! More like achieving a sugar-induced coma!"
"Bah," Xu Liang scoffed in mock seriousness. "Only those with a supreme destiny can survive its taste!"
As he struck another absurd pose, Zhou Chen's eyes drifted — unfocused — to the black can in Xu Liang's hand.
A sudden pounding started at the back of his skull.
"Hello?" Xu Liang said, noticing his blank stare. He leaned forward and waved the can exaggeratedly back and forth in front of Zhou Chen's face. "Earth to Zhou Chen. Anybody home?"
Zhou Chen blinked hard, snapping out of it. He let out a small grunt and pressed his fingers against his temples, massaging slowly as if trying to push away the throbbing pressure building behind his eyes.
Meng Yao, standing by with a bottle of lemon tea in hand, raised an eyebrow. "Dude, you've been spacing out a lot lately. You good?"
Zhou Chen forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah… just tired, I guess."
"Too much soul-searching after lectures, huh?" Xu Liang teased, still grinning as he tossed the drink into their basket.
Zhou Chen gave a distracted nod. "...Looks like it."
They paid at the counter and stepped back into the evening light.
The golden afternoon had faded, bleeding into the soft blues and dusky purples of early evening, as if the sky itself were slipping quietly into slumber.
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[COMING NEXT] - CHAPTER 7 - The Mundane II
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