His eyes fluttered open, but the world remained a blurry haze.

“.......”

Blinking dazedly, Ouyang Ge waited for the fog to clear. His mouth hung slightly open, lost in thought. Soon, his vision sharpened. Above him stretched a pure white ceiling.

He tried to move. His limbs refused to obey—as if severed.

Raising his only mobile arm, he pushed aside the thin blanket covering him. Bandages. Bandages everywhere. Bandages.

He wore no clothes. Every inch of skin below his neck was swathed in white gauze. Yet all four limbs remained intact. The nightmare of amputated legs and a missing left arm hadn’t come true.

“So… I survived…”

Tears uncontrollably filled his eyes, tracing paths through the fine scars on his face. Ouyang Ge hadn’t meant to cry. Yet the tears spilled over anyway.

“That nightmare… is finally… over…”

His right hand stretched toward the ceiling, palm wide open. A choked sob escaped his throat, deliberately muffled, slowly filling the small room.

Since his rebirth, that tragic night had been a boulder crushing his chest. He’d endured alone, swallowing the truth. One misstep, and his sister Ouyang Shi would die again—pierced through the heart. His second chance would vanish.

Thankfully, everything had gone smoothly. His sister lived. She’d even found an excellent future. Ouyang Ge wasn’t worried about her life ahead. Though Zokilia was mysterious, his skill in Sorcerer training was top-tier. Under his guidance, Ouyang Shi would surely thrive.

“Ha… Hahahaha! Wonderful! Hahahahaha!”

Manic laughter burst from him. He covered his tear-streaked face with his right hand—ashamed, though no one watched.

“Hahahaha—*cough cough cough!*”

The violent laughter tore at his wounded lungs. Blood flecked his lips.

*Bang!*

The door slammed open.

“Brat! Don’t push it!” A woman’s sharp voice cut through the air. The scent of burnt tobacco flooded Ouyang Ge’s nose. He turned his head.

A young woman stood there, long ponytail swinging, dressed carelessly. A lit cigarette dangled from her lips. Arms crossed, she glared at him from the bedside with undisguised annoyance.

“Mas—!” Ouyang Ge nearly slipped. He caught himself. “You… hello?” An eight-year-old’s hesitant reply.

“Firld. The one who saved your life. Remember that, brat.”

“Hehe… Got it, Mas— Big Sister!”

Habit almost betrayed him again. He corrected himself just in time.

“Tch. You little monster,” Firld snapped, spotting fresh blood staining his chest bandages. She rolled her eyes and strode to the bed. “Lie still. You’re trouble enough.”

“Yes~”

Ouyang Ge obeyed, lowering his hand. A faint smile touched his lips.

Her words were harsh, but her touch was gentle. The damp towel moved with feather-light strokes over his bandages, treating his body like fragile art.

“Big Sister… who are you?”

“Hm? Me?” Firld didn’t look up, focused on cleaning the blood. “Just a normal person. A university student.”

“Uni… versity?”

Ouyang Ge feigned childish confusion.

“University! Don’t ask stupid questions, brat!” She glared down, expecting fear. Teasing him.

“Yes~~~”

“………”

No fear came. Only quiet relief. *Does this kid not know how to be scared?* Firld dismissed the thought. Just a child.

She tossed the soiled towel aside and straightened up. “Rest properly. No more stunts.”

“My name is Ouyang Ge. Not ‘brat’.”

“You—!” Firld’s irritation flared at his smile. Yet no real anger followed. “Fine, fine. Brat!” She deliberately ignored his name. Without waiting for a reply, she strode out.

*Click.*

The door closed softly. Silence returned.

*Hehehe…*

Ouyang Ge covered his mouth, stifling laughter. Joy surged through him. His fate continued—exactly as he’d hoped. Firld was proof.

Though his body was broken again by that tragic night, the outcome hadn’t changed. He’d met her…

—the woman who would teach him everything.

Her gruff words but tender actions just now flooded him with memories. In his past life, after she saved him, he’d been silent for years. Only later did he heal. Those days were precious. Firld had poured her heart into caring for his half-crippled self.

He’d never forget this debt. That’s why he laughed. The moment he woke, he knew: Firld had saved him again. Since fate hadn’t betrayed him, he’d repay her. He’d fix his past mistakes.

“First… heal this broken body. Then… much work awaits.”

Confidence burned in Ouyang Ge’s chest.

“I don’t know your purpose… but thank you. Truly. For this second chance…”

He raised his right hand. Beneath the thin bandages, a crimson tattoo pulsed faintly visible—a skull design.

—Strange, thanking a tattoo.

Peace washed over him. Ouyang Ge closed his eyes.

He didn’t see the blood-red skull’s jaw twitch. A soundless mockery echoed in the quiet room.