Chapter One: Life Rewinds

The room was a bit stuffy, and the ceiling fan was struggling to turn overhead.

William Bolton's head was splitting with pain. After a hangover, it felt as if a stranger's soul had been stuffed into a stranger's body. Forcing himself up from the narrow bed, he looked around—this little room was just too shabby. The lead-gray cement floor was a bit damp, the four yellowing white walls had mold at the base, and the walls were plastered with posters of female celebrities, most of whom were familiar faces.

As the CEO of Xingyu Media, he had no shortage of actresses throwing themselves at him.

At this thought, he started to feel something was off—completely off! Wasn't he supposed to be on his own luxury yacht?

William Bolton habitually ran his hand through his hair, got out of bed, and walked to the old-fashioned three-door wardrobe, squinting at the mirror in the center. The person in the mirror was indeed himself, but clearly much younger. The little beer belly had miraculously disappeared, replaced by well-defined abs.

He stared wide-eyed as if he'd seen a ghost, then gave himself a hard slap.

The pain proved he wasn't dreaming. Calming his shock, he found a set of cheap clothes from the shabby wardrobe and put them on. On the bedside table was a Coolpad phone with a cracked screen, and next to it a canvas wallet. He stuffed them all into the pocket of his baggy shorts, and with a nervous heart, opened the door.

The midday sunlight was so bright he couldn't open his eyes. Before he could adjust to the light outside, he got slapped on the back of the head.

"All you know is eat and sleep, sleep and eat? You're a grown man—can't you show a little ambition?"

William Bolton was stunned by the slap. In his memory, no one had ever dared treat him, the domineering CEO, like this.

A middle-aged woman with messy hair glared at him angrily. Seeing his reaction, she rushed over and gave him another slap. "What are you looking at? Hurry up and get to work!"

"...Mom?"

William Bolton recognized her. The middle-aged woman in front of him was his mother, Samuel Clark.

He was completely dumbfounded—this was truly unbelievable!

His mother had died long ago. Fifteen years ago, his family perished in a tropical storm while vacationing on a private plane. Only he survived by chance because he hadn't gone with them.

Fifteen years had passed. As the sole legal heir, he inherited all the family assets and became the youngest billionaire in Asia.

William Bolton suddenly remembered the wish he made last night on the wealth forum. He said that if heaven gave him a chance, he would trade all his wealth, even his life, to bring his family back safely. He'd said it with great emotion, earning a round of applause. Could it be that all his wishes had come true?

"Don't just stand there—go change the gas!" Samuel Clark turned around and continued hanging up her laundry.

William Bolton pinched himself again—he really wasn't dreaming.

His life had rewound—overnight, he was back fifteen years ago. But fifteen years ago shouldn't have been like this. The luxury villa had become a rundown home, and his elegant, refined mother had turned into a fiery-tempered housewife.

No time to ponder life, he pushed his bike and took the gas cylinder to the station to exchange it. He still couldn't figure out what was going on, but one thing was certain: the family's financial situation was dire.

He first went to the newsstand at the entrance of his neighborhood and bought today's "Pengcheng Express," asking for directions to the gas station while he was at it.

The date on the newspaper was July 17, 2011, proving he really had gone back fifteen years. He was currently living in Pengcheng, Pingjiang Province. William Bolton's ancestral home was here, but the family had moved to Huhai since his grandfather's generation, so he had no deep impression of this city. This time, not only had his life rewound, but even the social background had completely changed. He must have returned to a parallel world from fifteen years ago.

When paying, he checked his wallet—there was only thirty-five yuan in total. He found his ID card, and from the newspaper's date, calculated that he wasn't even twenty-one yet. There was also a Yuntong Centurion black card inside, which made him happy for a moment—he thought, heaven never seals off all exits. But soon he calmed down. The world had changed—would this card still work?

The nearest gas station was two kilometers from his home. William Bolton made a call and had someone deliver the gas directly to the newsstand, paying an extra five yuan for the errand.

William Bolton loaded the gas cylinder onto his bike. As he was pushing the bike home, he saw a heavily made-up young girl giving him a cold look. He thought, this girl is dressed way too tacky, like a hair salon girl.

She looked about ninety percent familiar. Looking closer—wasn't this his own little sister, Edward Bolton? So he pushed the bike over.

"Little sis!"

Edward Bolton rolled her eyes, clearly not wanting to talk to him.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"None of your business."

"I'm your brother."

Edward Bolton stretched out her little hand with black nail polish: "When are you going to pay back the hundred yuan you owe me?"