Chapter One: The Eve of Rebirth and System Awakening
The night unfolded like a vast velvet cloth, soaked through with ink, heavy and oppressive as it unfurled across the sky, suffocating the city in its embrace. Delicate raindrops darted through the air, like a swarm of mischievous sprites, hopping and flitting, kissing every street and alley. The ground shone with a slick sheen, each water-streaked surface a mirror, reflecting the dim yellow glow of the streetlights. Within that halo, the dust danced like weary dancers, swirling slowly in the lethargic waltz. The wind, playful as a trickster, howled through the alleyways, carrying a damp chill, tossing discarded papers and plastic bags from the trash cans like toys in its mischief. They rustled and whispered, joining the chorus of the night's melancholic song.
In the backseat of the taxi, Zhang Liang slumped like a clay sculpture, drained of vitality. His once crisp suit, capable of piercing through the years with its sharpness, now lay wrinkled and sagging against him, like frost-bitten cabbage leaves. His tie hung loosely to one side, resembling a stranded, emaciated snake, while his shirt collar gaped open, strands of hair stuck together by a mix of sweat and rain, matted against his forehead, resembling scattered wild grass. His eyes, sunken and hollow, appeared as if two dried wells, the bloodshot veins crossing over like a spider's web, casting a net of weariness over his face. His gaze, at first vacant enough to swallow the entire night sky, was pierced by a bitter smile on his lips, a stubbornly self-deprecating mark, as though mocking fate itself with a deep sense of resignation and exhaustion.
"Driver, do me a favor—step on it," Zhang Liang muttered weakly, massaging his temples as if trying to squeeze the fatigue from his very bones. "This whole social event was a nightmare. My body feels like it's about to fall apart. I can barely hang on."
The driver glanced up at him through the rearview mirror, clicked his tongue in sympathy, and jested, "Young man, no matter how much gold or silver you're making, you've got to take care of yourself, too. Look at you now—almost like a frostbitten eggplant. It seems like the 'work demons' have drained every last drop of life out of you. Don't work yourself to death for the sake of bread."
Zhang Liang sighed deeply, the sound escaping him like a burst of pent-up frustration. His response was tinged with bitterness: "You're lucky, driver. In this 'man-eating' swamp of a workplace, trying to hold your ground is harder than climbing to the heavens. Everywhere you turn there are traps and arrows hidden in the dark. Today's drinks were all for a project, forced down in the company of sharp-tongued, knife-edged 'bigwigs.' As for whether the project will succeed, my heart knows the answer well enough—it's probably just going to be someone else's gain."
Before he could say more, a shadow flashed past the car window like a specter, startling both of them. It was a stray cat, scampering desperately, its path erratic and frantic. The driver, quick as lightning, slammed his foot on the brake. The screech of the tires echoed, sharp as the cry of an owl in the night. The wheels locked against the wet road, but the car, driven by inertia, veered like an enraged beast, barreling straight toward the guardrail. The crash was deafening, a thunderous "bang" that shook the air, reverberating through Zhang Liang's head, like a swarm of bees crashing against his skull. The world went dark, and his consciousness plunged like an unmoored kite into an endless abyss. Around him, there was a chilling silence, save for the frantic beating of his heart in his chest, like a war drum losing its rhythm.
When Zhang Liang awoke, it was as if he had been torn from the abyss. He found himself suspended in a place of utter chaos, surrounded by thick, viscous fog, its presence like greedy hands that clung to him. Mysterious symbols flickered through the mist, like signals from a distant galaxy, appearing and disappearing in fleeting moments. His feet felt as though they were treading on cotton, weightless, and with every movement, an overwhelming sense of vertigo washed over him. Fear gripped his throat, and a cold shiver ran up his spine. His eyes widened in panic, and his hands flailed desperately, like a helpless propeller, his voice, raw with terror, piercing the eerie silence: "Where am I? How did I end up here?"
At that moment, a deep, mechanical voice, cold as the void, boomed through the mist, as if the heavens themselves were speaking. Each word dropped like a heavy weight against his ears:
"Zhang Liang, the wheel of fate turns. Today, I offer you a chance at rebirth, binding you to the 'Dao De Jing System.' From now on, you shall wield the wisdom of the Dao De Jing as your blade, cutting through the thorns of the workplace and forging a glorious new life."
Zhang Liang recoiled as if struck by lightning, his whole body shuddering. He curled up in fear, his eyes darting around in frantic confusion, attempting to pinpoint the source of the voice. He shouted, "Who? Who are you? What's going on here? What system is this? I'm totally lost!"
The voice was calm, yet exuded an unshakable authority, cutting through the mist once again:
"I am the system, beyond the dimensions of time and space. I have observed your previous life, trapped in the corporate cage, your ambitions thwarted, your heart filled with resentment. I offer you a chance to return, to value this opportunity and walk the path of the Dao."
At first, Zhang Liang trembled in fear, like a frightened bird, his body shaking, his eyes wide with terror. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and dread, as he struggled to understand the bizarre situation he was in. But as the voice continued with a steady calm, a flicker of doubt emerged within him. His brows furrowed slightly, and unconsciously, his hands gripped the edges of his clothing. He thought to himself, "This is too absurd, like something out of a sci-fi movie. But... what if... it's a chance from heaven? A second chance to start anew?" A sense of uncertainty mixed with a flicker of hope stirred within him. His heartbeat quickened, his breath became shallow, and his eyes glistened, as though a sliver of light had pierced the night.
As he pondered these thoughts, the fog seemed to respond to a command, slowly parting. In its wake, a thick, ancient copy of the Dao De Jing, radiating a faint golden glow, appeared suspended in mid-air. The pages seemed to turn by an invisible hand, revealing the words: "The Dao that can be spoken is not the eternal Dao; the name that can be named is not the eternal name." The words glowed intensely, like ten miniature suns, forcing Zhang Liang to squint. The light flooded his heart, and at first, he was stunned, unable to comprehend the mysterious vision before him. His mouth hung open, his gaze vacant. But soon, it was as though an ancient sage whispered into his ear, and the wisdom washed over him like a gentle stream, slowly dispelling his fear. He began to steady himself, his clenched fists slowly loosening, as if gathering strength.
As the memories of his previous life rushed back—his boss's disdain, the treacherous colleagues, the loneliness of overtime—his eyes instantly welled up with tears. A flood of resentment and helplessness surged within him, tears streaming down his face. His teeth clenched, his jaw tightened, and his face burned with determination. This was not just a simple desire for change—it was a burning need to rise above the injustice of his past life, to reshape his future.
"It's enough," he murmured softly, though his words rang with the weight of a vow. "If fate is willing to give me a hand, I will fight with everything I have. I will live a life of my own choosing, and I will never fall back into the same pit again."
The system's voice sounded once more:
"The beginner's package has been granted. It contains the essential interpretations of the Dao De Jing and basic workplace insight skills. When you awaken from your rebirth, you will use these tools to begin your journey of reversal. Remember, 'softness overcomes hardness'; progress comes through gentleness, and only by this can you endure."
Zhang Liang wanted to ask more, but before he could speak, an overwhelming force rushed toward him. Blinding white light filled his vision, and his consciousness once again plummeted into darkness. The echo of the system's words lingered in the air like the battle cry before war, reverberating through the void, marking the beginning of his uncertain journey ahead.
Summary: In this chapter, Zhang Liang begins trapped in the mire of his past workplace, drained by endless social obligations, surrounded by colleagues like wolves. His body and soul exhausted, he is a broken man, molded and crushed by fate. A sudden car crash triggers a dramatic shift in his destiny, pulling him into a realm of chaos where he is bound to the mysterious Dao De Jing System. His emotions evolve from fear and confusion to tentative hope, as the ancient wisdom of the Dao De Jing stirs him to remember his suffering and ignitea fierce determination.
As the system's guidance offers him a second chance, Zhang Liang resolves to take control of his fate. With the new gifts bestowed upon him, he prepares to challenge the path ahead, determined never to fall into the same trap again. The Dao's cryptic teachings foreshadow the challenges and mysteries of his rebirth, urging him to embrace the unknown and craft his destiny anew. In the next chapter, he returns to the eve of his college graduation, entering the recruitment fair of Hongyu Group, where he will use the system and his newfound wisdom to carve his path in the corporate world. Stay tuned for the continuation in Chapter Two.