I turned reality into a romantic comedy.

"I'm still glad you could grant my wish, but I don't think I can fulfill your request."

"After all, those romantic comedies you're talking about don't exist in reality."

Chen Junqian stretched as he heard the school bell ring for the end of get out of class.

The class monitor, who had spent the entire class sitting in the front row covered in chalk dust, stood up and shouted:

"Teachers, please take a break."

Unlike the lines in novels or movies, Chen Junqian always said "Teacher, take a break" instead of "Goodbye, teacher" when he was in elementary school.

So everyone stood up lazily, their touches on the tables and chairs making a wobbling sound.

"Teachers, please take a break."

"Students, take a break."

Since it was the last class of the day, the Chinese teacher gave one last reminder:

"Hurry home, be careful on the way, use crosswalks, don't look around, and remember to watch the traffic lights."

But before he could finish speaking, the elementary school students, who had packed their bags in advance, rushed out of the classroom chatting and laughing. They called to each other in the corridor, carrying their backpacks, and went downstairs to go home together, leaving only the student on duty today shouting hoarsely, "Put the chairs on the table before you leave—"

Chen Junqian recalled that when he was in college, he would pass by the gate of a nearby primary school. Back then, the students would walk out in neat rows, each with a leader holding a sign with their class name on it.

However, this model doesn't exist at all now. Everyone just rushes towards the gate in a swarm. Many parents are already waiting outside. Two security guards, whose combined age is over 100, are guarding both sides of the school gate. It seems like we can't really count on them if something really happens.

As Chen Junqian packed his schoolbag and walked downstairs alone with the crowded people, he suddenly remembered an accident that was supposed to happen six months later. However, he was immediately carried out of the teaching building by the crowd and suddenly found himself under a clear blue sky.

At that time, the concept of PM2.5 was not yet widely known, and weather forecasts did not include today's air quality index. However, Chen Junqian could not quite remember whether he could watch the weather forecast on his phone at that time; he watched CCTV at 7:30 pm.

Because they need to farm and sell vegetables, Chen Junqian's grandparents pay close attention to the daily weather. Since they live in a small county in southern Anhui, his grandmother told him to check the weather in Hefei and Hangzhou, as the weather here is roughly the same as in those two places.

There aren't many parents at this time because it's not yet their workday. So most of those picking up their children are elderly people, like grandparents. The majority of the crowd consists of caregivers from nearby after-school programs. They often hold two first or second graders' hands in one hand while having their older students from their tutoring classes bring over the other students from their program. They only leave after everyone is there.

This is also a product of various factors. The main function of these after-school care centers located near schools is to help parents take care of their children, provide lunch and even dinner, and give children a place to stay during the time between school dismissal and parents getting off work, so that they can also do some homework.

As Chen Junqian recalled the direction of his home at this moment, he curiously looked up and looked around at everything that was both familiar and unfamiliar. A large area of ​​shiny red spicy strips was laid out in front of the small shop at the school gate. They came in slices, strips, and shreds, all for 50 cents a pack. If you wanted to be a little more extravagant, you could add 50 cents to buy a grilled sausage. However, since they could be eaten in just a few bites, for most children, the cost-effectiveness was far less than that of spicy strips, which they could eat all the way home.

Just as school let out, an old man rode up on a tricycle and lifted a thick blanket off the vehicle in the open space in front of the school gate. The loudspeaker on the tricycle continuously broadcasted, "Big steamed buns - small steamed buns!" Standing next to him was a heavily pregnant parent waiting for his child. The parent had just turned on his phone, which displayed the words "China Telecom 3G".

The aroma of fried food and cumin quickly filled the air from the stalls selling fried skewers and three-flavor chicken strips. Vendors selling pastries were taking out translucent steamed cakes and colorful rice cakes, packaged in plastic bags, from buckets also wrapped in cotton blankets, and began to enthusiastically hawk their wares.

It's the beginning of the new school year, and many students are crowding in front of various shops, picking out their favorite book covers and stationery, chattering noisily.

Feeling his pockets, Chen Junqian found only a five-cent copper-yellow coin, the 1998 national emblem design. The children all thought this design was prettier than the lotus design from 00 onwards. If they had both of these coins, they would definitely choose to spend the lotus one first.

This is the money he paid for the bus fare home.

As Chen Junqian gradually recalled parts of his past, he walked towards the bus stop across the street. The platform was already full of students and parents. After waiting for a short while, an old-fashioned orange bus chugged to a stop in front of him.

However, since there were no front or back doors at that time, all the passengers waiting to board could only wait for the passengers who wanted to get off to get off first, and then they couldn't wait to squeeze on.

The bus wasn't very big, but Chen Junqian, being small, managed to squeeze on first. He then tossed his five-cent coin into a metal box that was transparent on top and closed on the bottom. The people behind him boarded one by one, and the clinking sound of coins falling into the box could be heard.

Adults pay one yuan, children pay fifty cents. You can also see two children getting on the bus one after the other, with the child in front throwing down one yuan and shouting "Two people!"

Chen Junqian quickly grabbed a large number of seats behind the bus driver and sat down. He then propped his head up with his hand and looked at the coin box that was so close to him and would be abolished in a few years. He suddenly remembered hearing someone say that because the driver wouldn't look at it and the sound of coins falling in was similar, people could use game tokens to get away with it.

When a certain number of coins have been accumulated, the bottom of the box will be opened, and the stacked coins will fall to the bottom, which is not visible.

For most children, this was undoubtedly more like a fun magic trick, and the mountain of coins was quite attractive in itself. A little boy sitting next to Chen Junqian watched the process repeat with fascination, watching the coins being thrown in, piling up, and then falling with a whoosh.

Chen Junqian only glanced at it for a moment before looking away, his gaze shifting downwards from the coin to the bottom of the box, where an advertisement was pasted:

Bo'ai Hospital benefits countless families.

To pass the time, Chen Junqian carefully read every word on the advertisements, including the contact information. This had become a habit of his; even when he was in the bathroom, he would carefully read the instructions on toilet paper, shampoo, or shower gel before putting them back, satisfied.

After all, Chen Junqian didn't have a cell phone at that time.

Rather, it seems that only my parents have bought a cell phone each for work, and both are flip phones. My grandparents and I communicate with them through landlines.

The seven-digit landline number should be the earliest long string of numbers that Chen Junqian himself remembered.

Although it was something my parents half-forced me to memorize.

"The wear-resistant plant, we've arrived at the wear-resistant plant!"

As the car slowly came to a stop, I heard the driver in front shout.

Chen Junqian then came to his senses and got off the bus with the others who got off at this stop.

The wear-resistant factory, whose full name is Phoenix Wear-Resistant Materials Co., Ltd., has a very grand name and is indeed quite famous locally, with a scale of several thousand workers. Chen Junqian's parents also work there.

His current home is also in the employee housing allocated by the factory.

However, using "employee housing" as an analogy doesn't seem to be a particularly accurate description.

Chen Junqian walked slowly up the hillside alone with his schoolbag on his back. Even though more than 20 years had passed, he could still remember the road he had walked throughout his childhood.

Several somewhat old, orange-yellow buildings came into view in the distance.

A tenement building.

It houses ordinary workers and their families.

"Junqian is back."

In front of the tenement building, there was a small house, a small shop. An old man sitting inside was fanning himself with a palm leaf fan. He raised his hand to greet Chen Junqian. It seemed that his son was some kind of cadre in the factory, which was why he had such a prime location to open a shop.

The children and workers in the nearby tenement buildings mostly buy their odds and ends from him, and he earns quite a bit of money every month.

"Hello, Grandpa Wang."

Chen Junqian still remembered the old man. The shop was still open until he moved away, but he never saw him again. When he came back, the entire wear-resistant factory was gone, and the area had been redeveloped and transformed into another residential area.

"Why do you look so listless today? Did you fail your exam?"

The old man gently tapped Chen Junqian's nose with a palm-leaf fan.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Children shouldn't sigh so easily."

The old man deliberately said something harsh, then picked up a lollipop from the counter and handed it over.

"I'll treat you to something."

"Thank you, Grandpa Wang."

Chen Junqian glanced at it and saw Q-boy lollipops, which cost one cent each and were considered the best value candy among elementary school students.

"I'm going home first."

After unpacking the lollipop and biting it into pieces, savoring the sweetness of industrial saccharin and coloring on his tongue, Chen Junqian continued walking home without looking back.

"This child... seems different from before."

The old man pondered for a long time. If he hadn't recently heard from his son that the other party's father might be promoted to workshop director this year, he wouldn't have been willing to part with that one-cent lollipop.

Chen Junqian, who was leaving, naturally had no idea what the other person was thinking. His pace quickened, until he was even jogging, and he jogged all the way back to the second tenement building.

The building, which used to be gleaming with gold, now bears the inscription "Zhuangyuan Lou" (状元楼, meaning "Top Scholar Building"), which has since faded considerably.

Actually, it is surrounded by a group of well-known buildings with prestigious names such as "Building of Talented Scholars" and "Building of Learned Scholars".

Beneath these prestigious titles, eight families live in cramped conditions on the same floor.

However, such a high population density has not brought a corresponding level of popularity; the area is often deserted during the day, only bustling with activity at night.

After all, adults are at work and children are at school during the day, so they wouldn't specifically bring the elderly to live with their family in such a place. So it only gets lively in the evening after the adults get off work and the children get out of school.

Only at night, when mahjong tables are set up one after another, can the noise travel from the first floor all the way to the sixth floor.

Chen Junqian walked into the third floor of Zhuangyuan Building and stood in front of room 304.

He took the house key from the outer compartment of his backpack.

The total area is less than 30 square meters, with a very small living room and kitchen. To the left of the entrance is the bathroom, and then there are only two sleeping rooms.

Chen Junqian waited on the sofa in the living room for almost an hour, holding his schoolbag.

He first looked around his home, a familiar yet unfamiliar sight.

On the wall hangs a photo of him taken at the age of four in a special place, wearing various clothes, such as a soccer jersey and a suit, with artistic fonts such as 'Soccer Boy' and 'Workplace Elite' next to it.

The old-fashioned sofa was a worn-out beige color. The armrests and backrests were covered with embroidered towels, which made it look less monotonous. However, if a child sitting on it misbehaved even slightly, it would easily make a mess of the sofa, drawing scolding from the adults.

Opposite the sofa was a TV with a DVD player on top, and the shelf below was filled with various cartoon discs. For children, this way of watching their favorite cartoons without having to watch commercials is undoubtedly much better than watching "take a break, we'll be right back" and the series of public service announcements that follow on the children's channel over and over again.

On Chen Junqian's own bookshelf, just like before his rebirth, a row of various books were arranged, from the youth versions of the Four Great Classical Novels to unsolved mysteries of China and the world. The spines of Zheng Yuanjie's Pipilu's Adventure series, in three colors—azure, orange-yellow, and silver-red—were brightly colored, and a boy with big eyes made a gesture to him on the book cover: 'Challenge the limits of imagination with Pipilu.'

At this time, the first book in the Charlie IX series, "The Ghost of Black Bay Street," will not be officially published until January of next year. Therefore, next to Zheng Yuanjie's books are Wu Meizhen's "My Deskmate and My Nemesis" series and Yang Hongying's "Mischievous Ma Xiaotiao" and "Laughing Cat Diary" series. Next to them are Qin Wenjun's "Jia Li, the Boy," Ge Bing's selected fairy tales, and some other foreign children's books such as "Adventure Tigers."

Next to it were a few scattered issues of "Zhiyin Manke" and "Manhua Party". A single volume of a comic book costing more than ten yuan was definitely something he couldn't afford now. He would even feel bad for spending five yuan on a magazine.

Perhaps because of Chen Junqian's words earlier, the system that was still bothered by the fact that someone didn't choose to be the protagonist of a romantic comedy, which was temporarily stored in his mind, also showed great interest in the books in front of him, and kept urging him to read all the books on the bookshelf in a quantum reading method.

Then, Chen Junqian heard the other person clicking their tongues in amazement.

"To be honest, I feel that these can also be considered part of the two-dimensional romantic comedy. If this is the alternative romantic comedy world you are looking for, it doesn't seem to lack potential."

As it spoke, it began to give examples one by one:

"Look at Ma Xiaotiao, he's essentially the male protagonist of a romantic comedy. He could be the male lead in any galgame. And this silly girl, Angel, is a perfect candidate for the ugly duckling to swan transformation. She's no different from those gloomy characters in light novels who only I noticed, sitting in the corner of the classroom with big glasses, long bangs, and braids, pretending to be passersby. And then there's Lu Manman, who can simultaneously combine so many elements like tsundere, feminism, violence, stalker, and childhood friend, and in the end, she's still a total loser."

"And isn't there a younger sister character? Crazy girl Du Zhenzi, look at how the character introduction on the cover says, she argues with her cousin Ma Xiaotiao when they meet, and misses him when they're apart. She's a 'little witch' with a cat face. Actually, the art style of anime is largely based on cats..."

"And another thing, this Phantom Ship book from the Pipilu series you mentioned actually features a girl named JS (a primary school girl) who is the prettiest in her class and uses superhuman alien technology to escape from school and try to stop a war. How can that not be considered a kind of otaku fantasy?"

"...I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe it's because you see everything through the lens of romantic comedies and come to this conclusion?"

Chen Junqian, still sitting on the sofa with his schoolbag, replied very quietly, showing that he was indeed not interested in these things at all.

"No, no, no. If this world is really like the one described in these books, then in my opinion it still has the potential to become a romantic comedy. After all, I didn't give you a second chance at life. You are the one I chose to be the protagonist of the best romantic comedy."

"Let's talk about that later."

Chen Junqian muttered something as he finally heard footsteps. He looked up at the door that was being opened again and again.

A man and a woman, both around thirty years old, walked in together.

Both were wearing plain blue work clothes. The woman was carrying a plastic bag of vegetables in her right hand, while the man was holding a large stainless steel thermos in his right hand. This type of thermos can be used as a cup by simply using the lid, which is quite convenient.

"son?"

The woman was the first to notice Chen Junqian, who was sitting on the sofa staring intently at them, and she called out to him naturally.