Chapter 4: A Featherless Phoenix Is No Better Than a Common Hen
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Lin Jiajia’s office was several hundred meters from the hospital’s main entrance. Tang Wan walked out in silence the entire way. Xia An followed behind, distinctly sensing that Tang Wan’s steps had become much more vigorous. He clearly understood that for this young woman, these few hundred meters were a crossing between life and death, both mentally and physically. Fortunately, she had stepped back from the brink of death.
This gave Xia An an inexplicable surge of empathy. In his previous life, he had already found Little Yuzu, just a few dozen meters away from holding her in his arms. If he had been saved, how blissful his future life would have been.
The weather was scorching. A crowd gathered around a cart selling sour plum juice and shaved ice at the hospital entrance. Tang Wan stopped beneath a tree nearby, looking up at the clear blue sky. The midday sunlight filtered through the swaying leaves, dreamy and ethereal.
Xia An noticed the same shimmering light in Tang Wan’s eyes. She turned her head, her eyes curving into crescent moons. Within that smile, the sun and moon shone brilliantly.
“We should say goodbye now. If there’s another chance, I’ll treat you to a meal,” she said to Xia An.
“Afraid you’ll drag me down?” Xia An blurted out.
Tang Wan was momentarily stunned. “You actually thought of that?”
“It’s hard not to,” Xia An replied.
Tilting her head, Tang Wan looked at the young man with curiosity.
Xia An said, “This isn’t a misdiagnosis.”
A bicycle slowly approached on the sidewalk, and the two moved slightly under the tree.
Misdiagnosis? Ridiculous. Cancer isn’t like a cold. Anyone diagnosed would immediately seek multiple tests and confirmations. He remembered Tang Wan mentioning that Director Zhao had done several CT scans for her, not to mention the consultations in Yanjing. Lin Jiajia didn’t know Tang Wan before and wouldn’t have presented fake images.
There was only one conclusion.
“You’re in the thick of it, and someone wants to harm you, aren’t they?” Xia An said.
Tang Wan stared at him silently, offering no reply. She had only just come to realize this on the way out.
Xia An smiled gently. “Next, you should get checked at unfamiliar hospitals in Beijing, Guangzhou, Shenzhen, or Shanghai. If everything is clear, then my suspicion is correct.
“You can say goodbye, and you don’t have to treat me to any meal, but before dealing with the problem, you should first adjust your mindset.”
Tang Wan bit her lip. Her forced smile vanished, replaced by a look of deep grievance.
Xia An continued, “I’m not asking about your family background, but it must be related. You’re no ordinary person. So I suggest you plan carefully—your travels, accommodation, phone calls, especially meals… you need to hide and be cautious. Can you handle that now?”
Tang Wan shook her head.
“Getting a good sleep first is the right thing to do. What do you think?” Xia An said.
After a brief pause, seeing Tang Wan still silent and downcast, he shrugged and said, “Then I’ll leave first… huh?”
Just like when they had arrived, Tang Wan suddenly grabbed Xia An’s arm, linking hers with his as they walked to the roadside.
“What’s this for?” Xia An asked.
He was roughly pushed into the back seat of a worn-down taxi.
Tang Wan blinked and smiled. Her beauty was such that when she smiled gently, it was elegant; when she laughed heartily, it was sweet and playful. When not smiling, her eyebrows framed her face like a cold, regal lady.
“You’re right, I should get some good sleep.”
“So?”
“Come to your place.”
Xia An frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Aren’t your parents away traveling?”
“I…”
The middle-aged driver peeked at the rearview mirror, puzzled. Young people nowadays, huh? Such a pretty girl taking the initiative—no restraint at all. If only they knew, they’d regret missing this chance.
The driver, captivated by Tang Wan’s beauty, kindly asked for Xia An’s home address.
The air conditioning was strong, the street view sped by, and just before falling asleep with a faint smile, Tang Wan repeated the words Xia An had given her:
“This world really has miracles.”
Even as she drifted off, she didn’t let go of Xia An’s hand, though he kept a slight distance.
It was summer—so hot, how many clothes could one wear?
Tang Wan’s figure clearly showed she wasn’t lacking in nutrition. Her hair smelled sweet, and so did her perfume. Xia An recognized it as Salvatore Ferragamo’s “Dream Rainbow,” very popular among young girls these days.
Twenty-five, a young woman.
From brief contact, the experienced Xia An had already grasped her personality.
When they passed a traffic checkpoint, the driver once again took the liberty to slow down slightly, and Tang Wan rested her head on Xia An’s shoulder. The two men exchanged glances in the rearview mirror, the driver showing a knowing “no need to thank me” expression.
---
East China Province, Dongshan City, Heping Street.
Happy Homeland Community, the most common community name nationwide, was built in the early 1990s as workers’ housing for the Third Machinery Factory.
Lemon-colored sunlight poured through the jagged silhouettes of the buildings onto the old neighborhood below.
An old man surnamed Wang, wearing a white vest and drooling with a crooked mouth, sat on a small folding stool, zoning out.
Mr. Wang was once the local tough guy but was now recovering from a second stroke.
He gently fanned himself with a palm leaf fan, a dirty yellow dog napping at his feet.
Several middle-aged women gathered around a stone table under a persimmon tree in the neighboring doorway, gossiping and spitting grape seeds.
Nearby, a little boy chased a girl with twin buns, holding a simple dragonfly net and a praying mantis, their laughter and cries echoing far.
Cicadas chirped incessantly; summer was noisy and oppressive.
Children, fruits, the yellow dog, and insects.
The word “loneliness” split and embodied itself.
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Xia An felt like this lonely interloper, standing still and silent, afraid to disturb this tranquil scene.
Mr. Wang passed away the following year on the Double Ninth Festival, never witnessing the Olympic opening ceremony.
Nor did he see the tragedy when the restaurant at the corner exploded, collapsing half the building.
Survivors moved away afterward, and this peaceful scene lasted only another two years, two months, and three days.
Eighteen years of time compressed by an invisible giant hand smashed hard into Xia An’s heart.
At this moment, Xia An felt grateful to Tang Wan. Without her by his side, he might never have faced such bittersweet nostalgia—“passing the south building again, only to find old friends now gone.”
“Is the Yuzu restaurant any good? I haven’t had a proper meal in ages. Shall we try it later?” Tang Wan asked, curious about her surroundings.
Following Xia An’s gaze, she spotted a small, modestly signposted restaurant and muttered, “Huh, why’s it closed in broad daylight?”
Xia An didn’t answer.
Zuo Yuzu, a junior in college, should now be in Yanjing participating in a dance competition, accompanied by her parents.
Xia An recalled that he hadn’t met Zuo Yuzu during the previous summer vacation.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
The stairwell was dusty; Xia An stepped firmly with each footfall.
The “Yuzu Restaurant” was just below Xia An’s home, and across the hall was Zuo Yuzu’s place.
From the moment they got off the taxi until entering the house, Tang Wan noticed Xia An had become unusually quiet.
Did he not want to go home?
She didn’t understand. She missed home terribly—so much so.
“Can I sleep a little more?”
Taking off her shoes, Tang Wan stood by the door without wandering.
Xia An glanced around. Compared to Tang Wan, he wasn’t that familiar with this place either.
It was an old two-bedroom apartment, just over 60 square meters, with tacky decor.
Xia An pointed to a small door. “There…”
Tang Wan sensed his loneliness and quietly walked over, opening it to find a toilet.
“That’s the bathroom,” Xia An said. “Next to it is my room. You can sleep there. Eat when you wake up.”
Less than three minutes passed before the room fell silent.
Xia An sat on the sofa, dazed for a moment, then adjusted his mood and entered his parents’ bedroom.
The computer had a bulky monitor, running Windows XP.
Watching the slow boot screen, Xia An thought of his parents and couldn’t help but smile.
The eighteen years of hard study and life had been tough. Once the college entrance exam ended, his parents took a long leave from the factory and booked a half-month tour of Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand, saying they wanted to enjoy life properly.
They left Xia An with 800 yuan to fend for himself.
No doubt, they were probably strolling the streets of Bangkok.
Xia An thought they were a couple who knew how to find joy in hardship.
They had supported him through years of art studies, a considerable expense for a modest family.
His father had always dreamed of studying stocks to supplement their income.
But with little savings, he was destined never to be a high-roller, only an ordinary retail investor dreaming of high returns without risking principal.
He had studied for years, reading fundamentals online and visiting the stock exchange to discuss with fellow small investors during holidays.
He had risen to become a prominent analyst but never actually traded.
In 2008, he bought a large amount of Olympic stocks, then… his mindset and savings were both wiped out.
That night, after twenty-one years of marriage, his mother saw his father cry for the first time, sobbing, “How will our son ever find a wife?”
To comfort him, she took him downstairs to drink with the Zuo couple.
After that, nothing more.
With three explosions, half the old building collapsed.
The accident was caused by a gas canister seller cutting corners, leaving the seal incomplete.
Xia An stopped his memories and logged online.
As an investor for several years, he instinctively paid attention to analysis reports from the past few years.
He was now familiar with the general background of the era, knowing what to do and what could be done.
He was online to verify something else.
After leaving the hospital, a few messages lingered in his mind that needed confirmation.
He searched: Dongshan Tang Group.
In 1991, a state-owned textile factory underwent share reform and officially established Shengtang Textile Co., Ltd.
The following year, the textile factory merged and was renamed a trading company.
In 1993, it successively acquired several garment workshops; in 1994, it bought Dongshan Shopping Mall.
In 1995, it cross-invested in Dongshan Transportation Company and officially formed a group.
July 9, 1996.
—On the eve of this day, a major car accident occurred on Lingbo Bridge Road in our city; a sedan crashed through the guardrail and fell into the water…
—It is reported that the car carried the family of Tang Tiande, known as the “Commercial Genius of East China Province”…
—The couple tragically died in the accident, but their young daughter was rescued…
The most recent news was from yesterday.
On July 10, 2006, following the fiery close of the World Cup, Dongshan’s business titan, Tang Group chairman Tang Tianxing, publicly declared: “I will never touch football.”
Tang Tiande was the pride of the older generation in Dongshan.
He was the first in the province to heed the country’s call and bravely take over struggling enterprises.
Over the years, he rapidly expanded, growing big and strong, supporting countless laid-off workers’ families, rescuing many factory employees facing starvation.
Such a person was worthy of a monument in the eyes of the common folk, dearly remembered.
How interesting, Xia An thought—it was almost too coincidental.
Just reborn...
No, actually, on the night before his rebirth, he had already encountered a runaway heiress?
‘Tang Wan...’
Xia An narrowed his eyes and rubbed his fingers.
It wasn’t just his imagination; he guessed she was Tang Tiande’s daughter for two reasons.
First, Tang Wan’s temperament.
Though she seemed gentle and down-to-earth, Xia An could see her innate noble bearing. That required excellent upbringing, good family background, and early cultivation of proper values.
Simply put, ordinary families couldn’t raise a girl like Tang Wan.
No matter how naturally beautiful, living on coarse food and doing household chores daily would ruin one’s skin.
Constantly worrying about daily necessities would surely cause breakouts.
Second, when the Tang Group collapsed in 2017, it caused a huge stir.
At that time, Xia An, who had already amassed some wealth, lost millions on a project under their umbrella.
While Tang Tianxing was sentenced to life imprisonment, several medical school deans were also removed from office, something Xia An remembered.
Tang Wan’s name never appeared in any news, but it was easy to guess.
Xia An didn’t intend to keep reading.
There was nothing more to see; the truth was clear.
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It was not surprising, nor exceptional.
Human society is essentially driven by interests. He had seen darkness a hundred times worse in his previous world.
Reflecting on the morning’s experience, aside from the inexplicable, the butterfly effect truly frightened him.
The past mattered, or else how could there be any clues?
‘Effect follows cause—that is rebirth.’
Life was truly made up of countless details, any one of which could be terrifying if mishandled.
School beauty, pretty, good figure, fallen princess...
Xia An suddenly realized Tang Wan had quite a few buffs.
If Tang Tiande had not died, how dazzling and untouchable would she be now?
A bit of dark humor, or perhaps the foresight that comes with rebirth made him a little arrogant.
Xia An suddenly wanted to see Tang Wan spread her wings proudly, far better than her current pitiful state.
Like a molting phoenix.
---
Like a stray cat seeking shelter in the dead of winter, Tang Wan felt that was exactly her state.
Xia An’s room was very small—single bed, small desk, and just enough space for an easel.
On it hung an acrylic painting drying—the image of a pomelo.
Apart from that, the walls were covered with paintings.
No celebrity posters, no cartoon characters, only pomelos.
‘He likes this fruit?’
Tang Wan felt as though she were lying in a fruit basket.
It was a little funny, but the current situation made her smile vanish.
Xia An’s pillow and blanket were neither sour nor musty, lightly scented with laundry detergent—quite pleasant.
The room faced north, cool and comfortable.
Struggling internally, recalling the absurd experiences of the past year plus this morning, Tang Wan gradually fell asleep.
In her dream was an unbearable, immense terror—the other ending after leaving the bar earlier.
People only opened their godlike perspective when faced with intense stimuli.
...
At dawn’s faint light, she dreamed she was wandering aimlessly with arms crossed.
When the warm sun pierced the mist over the river, she reached Lingbo Bridge.
Years ago, her family of three had a car accident not far ahead.
The sedan lost control, crashed through the railing, and plunged into the water.
8:30 a.m.
Tang Wan sent a text to Xia An, whom she had met just hours before:
“Awake? Can you come with me to the hospital?”
No reply.
8:31 a.m.
She called; service suspended due to unpaid fees.
She had never relied on anyone before, but this year she kept searching for support and found none.
She didn’t want to die alone on the operating table or in a hospital room.
Here, reality and dream diverged.
A paving stone was broken, missing a corner, into which her high heel accidentally stepped.
She fell to the ground, clutching her ankle, crying out.
It didn’t hurt that much, but she felt so wronged.
Desperate, she seemed to make a decision, biting her lip and standing.
Twenty meters away, a newsstand began opening.
Fifteen meters closer, an old man selling steamed buns.
Through tear-filled eyes, she slipped off her high heels and walked barefoot to the railing.
She climbed over and jumped.
Without a hint of hesitation.
Three meters from the water, she closed her eyes, hair flowing.
In the dream, she inexplicably recalled the epitaph Xia An had given her:
“This flower blooms in the dark night, fading at dawn.”
High in the sky, she saw the old bun seller using the newsstand’s landline to call 110.
She saw that over a thousand people in the city died the same day.
She saw police stunned for a moment by her photo during the investigation.
Then, nothing more.
She was so scared, so regretful.
If her step had been an inch bigger or smaller, she wouldn’t have stepped into the hole.
If the old bun seller had walked faster, he might have comforted the twisted ankle girl.
If the newsstand sold mobile phone top-up cards, would she have paid Xia An’s phone bill?
Her dead self envied her living self.
...
Tang Wan suddenly woke with a start!
Tears streamed down her face.
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Home is a unique scent, known only to insiders.
Smelling the long-lost familiar scent, Xia An unknowingly fell asleep on the sofa.
Tang Wan guessed he must be having a beautiful, warm dream.
Because at the corner of his mouth, a faint smile played.
‘Pretty handsome, actually.’
The scent in Xia An’s dream shifted slightly, adding a trace of unfamiliar sweetness.
He opened his eyes leisurely; the sun was sinking.
Tang Wan’s profile was rimmed with golden light, her eyes shining like crescent moons, slender fingers twisting her hair.
She sat sideways on the floor in front of the sofa.
Thirty centimeters apart, they gazed at each other.
Xia An stretched lazily and said softly, “Hungry?”
Tang Wan didn’t answer. She picked up a folded piece of paper from the coffee table and tilted her head, asking:
“I left you a note. I’m leaving now.”
As she spoke, her other fair hand hovered before Xia An.
“You have two choices: take the note, or… take this hand.”