Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 1

In a dilapidated hut, there is only a bamboo bed covered with straw. It is dark brown and looks like it has been there for many years.

An old man, seemingly in his sixties, lies on the bed. His hair is completely white, and time has carved deep lines into his face.

His expression is pained, and he mutters weakly in the dark, low-ceilinged room. His broken leg, not covered by the quilt, is only bound at the trouser leg, where dark red bloodstains are clearly visible.

“Ling’er… Ling’er… pour Daddy a glass of water.” He calls out desperately, unaware that his voice can’t even carry beyond the door.

His lips are dry and cracked, covered with a thick layer of dead skin. His eyes are deeply sunken into their sockets, his body gaunt.

Suddenly, footsteps sound outside. The old man’s eyes light up with hope, waiting to see if his wife or children have finally brought him water.

The footsteps stop at the door, and a voice speaks, “Check if he’s dead already. It stinks in this summer heat!”

It is his wife. He has always known she has a sharp tongue, but he never realizes she is actually waiting for his death.

“Mother, I don’t dare go in… Dad’s been lying in there for two days. What if something really happened? That’d be so scary!” Zhang Ling’s voice trembles, filled with unease. After all, her father has always treated her well.

“You useless girl! You’re nothing like me or your father, but exactly like that deadweight inside.”

Inside the room, Zhang Shu stiffens. Me and your father? What does she mean by the dead ghost inside? Weren’t they the same person?

The next second, the mystery unravels.

“He’s my second uncle, not my father…” the young girl weakly protests, clearly afraid of angering her mother.

“He is your father! Listen to me,” Wu Liniang snaps.  “Your eldest uncle and his wife are rich now. I used to bully them, and life is hard for us now! But they still treat your second uncle’s family well. And since this old man won’t last much longer, you’ll only have one father in the future.” Wu Liniang’s gaze darkens as she stares at the little girl. “If you insist on recognizing him as your father, fine. Stay here and take care of him. Your brother, sister-in-law, and I will go out and enjoy ourselves!”

“No, Mother! I’m scared of him—he looks terrifying now. Can’t we go in together?” the little girl pleads.

Zhang Shu stares blankly at the roof, his face expressionless, his body motionless—like a corpse.

Then, the door creaks open, and the long-lost sunlight instantly floods the dark room.

A woman, draped in embroidered silk, steps inside. She glances at the old man on the bed, then at herself. He looks like he is in his sixties or seventies, while she appears to be in her forties or fifties. How could he ever be worthy of her?

Just two days ago, her lover praised her beauty. The happiness of being with him couldn’t compare to this dull, lifeless old man.

Lifeless?

Her smug expression falters. She looks up at the bed—he is lying there with wide-open eyes, teetering between life and death.

A wave of disappointment surges through her, followed by relief. Just as she steps closer for a better look, the little girl tugs at her sleeve.

“Mom… Mom, is Dad dead?”

“You useless thing! What’s so scary about a dead man?” She scolds her daughter, then orders her to stay put while she goes to check.

The moment she reaches the bedside—

The man, who just seemed lifeless, suddenly lunges at her, his hands closing around her throat.

“You wretched woman! Bitch!”

No matter how much of a coward he has been, upon realizing he has been made a fool for years, he can no longer suppress his rage. He wants nothing more than to strangle this woman to death.

Wu Liniang turns pale with terror. She was convinced he was dead. But when the initial shock wears off, the tightening grip on her throat makes her realize that death is now creeping toward her instead.

She struggles to pry his hands away but finds that she can’t. The little girl stands frozen, trembling in fear.

In desperation, Wu Liniang yanks the silver hairpin from her hair and plunges it forcefully into the man’s injured leg.

A sharp, searing pain shoots through him. He lets out a scream and releases her, rolling onto the ground and clutching his leg.

Wu Liniang scrambles into a corner, her once-pristine face now covered in dust, looking her age for the first time.

He can’t be allowed to live today. If word gets out, she and her lover will never survive the fallout.

“Ling’er, go outside. I need to speak with your Dad.”

Even with her despicable nature, she doesn’t want her daughter to witness a murder.

The little girl trembles violently. Seeing the despair in her father’s eyes and the ruthlessness in her mother’s, she hesitates—but in the end, fear wins. She hurries toward the door, as though escaping a fire.

The last glimmer of light in Zhang Shu’s eyes fades. He knows he won’t survive this night.

“Liniang… tell me everything. At least let me die knowing the truth.”

Wu Liniang dusts off her clothes and smirks. “Zhang Shu, there are some things you’re better off not knowing. Go ask the King of Hell instead.”

Zhang Shu lies on the ground, his leg still throbbing, though he seems oblivious to the pain. “For the sake of this leg, at least tell me—of the five children, how many are mine?”

Wu Liniang’s gaze flickers.

Wu Liniang glances at his leg, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. That day, the fierce wolfdog was charging straight at her. The eldest daughter-in-law’s family was wealthy, even feeding their dogs live chickens, so its fangs were terrifyingly sharp. The memory of its bloody maw still sends shivers down her spine.

But it was this useless man before her who threw himself in front of her, shielding her with his own body. As a result, the wolfdog tore off half his leg instead.

“The eldest son is yours… that’s why I hate him.” She lets out a long sigh, as if a burden has been lifted.

“Oh. I should’ve known.” Zhang Shu’s expression remains blank. His heart swells with too many emotions, leaving him unsure how to react.

The eldest and youngest daughters he cherished—aren’t his. The second son he spoiled—isn’t his. The youngest son he was so proud of—isn’t his.

But the clumsy, inarticulate eldest son he neglected for years—he is the only one truly his.

No wonder this woman, whenever she cried and wailed, always said, “I gave the Zhang family so many children! If nothing else, I suffered for them!”—but never once said, “I gave you children!” Of course. They weren’t for him.

His younger brother, his uncle, his aunt—how wonderful they were. They treated his children so well. He has been truly grateful to have such kind relatives.

“Who else knew? Besides me?”

Wu Liniang, now devoid of pretense, sneers.

“Everyone except you. Even your grandparents. They wanted to drive me out, but I’d already given birth to so many children—and was pregnant again at the time. So they pitied me and let me stay. Do you really think they were ever good to you?”

She watches as the color drains from his face, a twisted sense of satisfaction filling her. If only he had refused this marriage back then, she could have married the man she truly loved! Instead, she has been shackled to this useless fool.

Zhang Shu stares at her, his heart sinking. He has never imagined the woman beside him harbored such malice.

But then again… has she ever truly been by his side?

He has lived a miserable, cowardly life—mocked and deceived. But in the next life… he prays he won’t be so pathetic.

With that final thought, he hurls himself toward the wall.

With a sickening crack, darkness swallows him whole.

In his final moments, he sees himself as a young man again, running up a sunlit hillside, dandelions dancing in the wind. A boy follows behind him, calling out in a crisp voice—

“Brother Shu!”