Free Web NovelChapter 605: Chapter 1: Return (Part 2)
Before experiencing the challenges, he felt every day in the factory was extraordinarily tormenting.
Anxiety and pressure created by modern society are omnipresent; he worried about becoming jobless once he resigned, consuming savings during unemployment, and feared disappointing his family and leaving a bad reputation among relatives.
The northern small town’s economy is underdeveloped; besides livestock and not-so-famous tourism, there are basically no factories, meaning no suitable jobs for him.
Resumes sent out were like stones sinking into the ocean, with few responses; those who did reply claimed insufficient work experience and offered unattractive salaries.
Spent almost a year in such struggles; looking back now, Chen Zhou felt even without the challenge’s opportunity, he might have submitted his resignation by year-end—
After all, he was still young, unburdened by marriage, so rather than staying stuck, better to return to fertile ground where he could thrive.
...
Of course, after 28 years of another life, his horizons broadened, seeing through many worldly entanglements; even without the challenge’s generous rewards, Chen Zhou wouldn’t care about this job.
He deserved better and to embrace a grander Chapter with more courage—
But before that, Chen Zhou first needed to stand up and take a few steps.
Enduring the feeling of a heavy head and light feet, like a drunkard with a hangover, he held onto the bedside, shakily stood up, took half a step, and then fell headlong, his elbow hitting the tiles hard.
Before participating in the challenge, such a fall would have broken skin and drawn blood.
But now, though his body felt uncontrollable, it appeared much sturdier than before.
While Chen Zhou was "learning to walk," he often stumbled, yet his body remained undamaged, which puzzled him.
However odd it was, this feeling of being knocked back to the stage of a two-year-old was still highly undesirable.
If interviewed now: What does rebirth feel like?
Chen Zhou could only answer.
"Rebirth feels like rebirth, to the extent that even using limbs requires readaptation and learning.
If forced to give an evaluation, mine would be that it feels like crap."
...
The initial deep sleep after returning to modern society lasted just over six hours; when Chen Zhou woke again in the dormitory, it was already late at night.
Unlike schools, the cement factory dormitory didn’t have strict lights-out times; late at night, only his room was lit while the entire dormitory building was dark.
Leaning against the wall, holding onto the bedside, Chen Zhou practiced walking around the room while cursing the Space-Time Administration Bureau in his heart.
Even though the Space-Time Administration Bureau turned him into a billionaire, giving him wealth he couldn’t earn in ten lifetimes, he couldn’t forgive the dreadful experience of this "return"—
The damn adaptation period left him unable to control his body, even urinating his pants, causing real discomfort.
Luckily, he hadn’t eaten much before the challenge, so his stomach wasn’t acting up; if he had to defecate in this state, he’d be infamous in the factory.
At 25, someone who could soil their pants would quickly become known in this fairly small town.
...
August 30th was Saturday, and the next day was Sunday.
The cement factory didn’t have weekends off; southern management had eight days of family leave each month, while local workers only got two days paid leave; they had to work regardless of weather.
By seven-thirty in the morning, daylight was bright; factory workers arrived by car or electric bike, machines started rumbling awake.
As dust filled the workshop, every worker wished they were deaf and blind, merely repeating their tasks without enduring the harsh work environment.
The machines operated normally without breakdowns; no one cared about Chen Zhou’s absence.
Only at noon when eating did a familiar elderly maintenance worker notice the young, tall lad wasn’t in the operating room.
He assumed Chen Zhou had gone ahead to the cafeteria for lunch without waiting for him, but upon closer look, saw there were no footprints in the dust, realizing Chen Zhou hadn’t come.
"This lad frequently complained about low wages but never arrived late for work; never heard him say he was taking leave today..."
The elder mused but didn’t call to inquire.
He knew Chen Zhou liked saving his leave days, accumulating over ten before using them all at once; Chen Zhou hadn’t taken any leave in July or August, so perhaps he was on leave today.
Though he hadn’t done much work all morning, age made his stomach uncomfortable if he skipped meals.
Eating a lot bloated him; eating too little left him hungry.
Factory cafeteria food was cheap; Sunday was meat day, and they were generous with the meat, tastier too; after circling near the operating room, not finding Chen Zhou, he went straight to the cafeteria to eat.
...
After lunch, the afternoon returned to machine roars and swirling dust.
Workers had their tasks, while Chen Zhou, driven by hunger, tried to become "normal."
He managed to control his limbs, placing the paintings he brought to this world properly, solving personal toilet issues, tossing urine-soaked pants into the washbasin, changing into fresh clothes, and finally prepared to go out and get food—
He hadn’t eaten since the night of the 30th till the 31st night, a full 24 hours.
Having grown accustomed to island life, returning to modern times required recalling quite a lot.
Remembering to pay for food, bringing a phone when going out, finding the right app to scan the QR code when paying.
Speaking politely, avoiding speaking in condescending tones like on the island, not using an elderly manner—
He had now returned to youth, being a 25-year-old young man, not a 53-year-old elder.
...
Having prepared everything needed for going out, shutting the dormitory door, Chen Zhou walked awkwardly, slowly yet steadily down the corridor, gripping the stair railing, inching downward.
Each stair was laborious, taking half an hour to descend from the 3rd to the 1st floor.
By the time he left the dormitory building, it was nearing dusk; September’s day-night temperature difference was vast in the north, dropping abruptly post-sunset; people wore short sleeves at noon but needed jackets by evening.
The evening breeze blew, the hometown’s coolness bringing Chen Zhou almost to tears—
The island lacked such cool wind even during rainy seasons nor this dryness.
Bless heaven; it had been 28 years since he felt the summer’s end breeze.
Outside the dormitory on the street, streetlights lit up, cold white light on asphalt, returning workers in small groups chatting and laughing.
The limping Chen Zhou didn’t catch their attention—
They’d traveled thousands of miles from southern hometowns to work here; chatting in local dialect, much like their salaries, differed greatly from locals, forming their own circle naturally.
It wasn’t long before Chen Zhou, walking more proficiently, reached the cement factory entrance.
Coincidentally, President Liu, the factory’s head, had just returned; his pitch-black Mercedes parked by the gate, window down, smoking and chatting with the guard.
Chen Zhou was not considered short among northerners; stumbling along, he caught President Liu’s distant attention.
"Hey!"
President Liu beckoned from the driver’s seat.
"Xiao Chen, what’s happened? Why are you limping?"
The sudden interaction made Chen Zhou pause, stopping for nearly two seconds before realizing the person in the car was addressing him.
Years had passed since speaking with someone of equal or higher status; Chen Zhou remained silent, unable to respond—
He even barely recognized who the person truly was.
