Here is some Characters information MC in Previous Life Name is Han Yuze — gentle, cheerful, kind,calm.

And Mc after reborn or Present Life Name (Original Owner): Rong Xuyao — wealthy, arrogant, cold (before death). After rebirth, Han Yuze takes over his body.

The above information is for not confusing you guys and moving on to the main topic or chapter of the story.

Blinding white light.

Han Yuze’s ears rang with the echo of screeching brakes, the honk of a horn, and the gut-wrenching crash that had stolen the breath from his lungs. The last thing he remembered was the warm smile of the little boy he had pushed out of the road, just before the truck’s headlights swallowed him whole.

Then—darkness.

Now, the darkness fractured into sharp smells of disinfectant, muffled voices, and the faint, rhythmic beeping of a machine nearby.

“Quickly! We’re losing him—no, stabilize the baby first!”

Baby?

Han Yuze’s thoughts swam sluggishly. Why were they talking about a baby?

His chest felt heavy, but lower—his abdomen ached as though someone had carved fire into his flesh. He tried to open his eyes. The world above him was a blur of masked faces under surgical lights. His limbs refused to move.

Somewhere to his left, a voice—aged, trembling, but laced with desperate determination—broke through the fog.

“You must save him! Young Master Xuyao must live! And… and the child too—please, he’s all that’s left of them…”

Xuyao? Han Yuze thought dimly. That wasn’t his name. His name was Han Yuze. He was twenty-four. An orphan who worked hard every day but never minded because life was worth smiling about.

Then something yanked at his soul—a cold pull, a final snap—and when his eyes fluttered open again, the light had softened. The pain had dulled into a deep throb.

He wasn’t dead.

But the body… wasn’t his.

The ceiling was a pale cream, the sheets beneath him silk-soft, smelling faintly of lavender. Han Yuze turned his head, heart lurching at the sight of an IV line in his hand and a gentle old man seated beside his bed. The man’s hair was snow-white, his suit pressed but wrinkled from a sleepless night. His eyes—red-rimmed from tears—lit up the moment Yuze stirred.

“Young Master Xuyao! Thank heavens… I thought—” The old man’s voice broke, and he clasped Yuze’s hand with surprising strength for his age. “I thought I had lost you.”

Han Yuze blinked. “I… I’m not—” He stopped. The words in his head didn’t match the instinct in his body. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

His gaze drifted downward.

A rounded curve pressed against the hospital gown where his stomach should have been flat.

Pregnant. He was pregnant.

“What… what is this?” he whispered.

The old man—Butler Chen, if Yuze’s sudden rush of unfamiliar memories was right—looked stricken. “The doctors said the fall nearly took both of you. They had to operate to stop the bleeding, but they saved the child. You’re three months along, Young Master. The heir… is safe.”

Memories not his own flickered in like a broken slideshow: a sprawling mansion, staff bowing in fear, sharp words dripping from lips he could feel but didn’t recognize as his. Lavish dinners alone. Shattered vases. The butler watching silently from the doorway.

The previous owner of this body—Rong Xuyao—had been rich beyond imagining, the only heir to a fortune in the billions after his parents’ death. But he had been cruel. Arrogant. Despised by nearly everyone in the household, except perhaps the old butler who had raised him since birth.

And apparently… he’d been pregnant.

Han Yuze’s mind reeled. The memories he’d inherited contained nothing about the father. No face, no name, no warmth—only an empty space where that part of the story should have been.

“I…” Yuze swallowed hard, lifting a trembling hand to rest on the curve of his belly. The touch was alien, yet a strange warmth bloomed there. “I don’t remember.”

Butler Chen hesitated. “The accident… perhaps it’s for the best. The young master’s life before was… not happy.” His gaze softened, searching Yuze’s face. “You seem… different now. Calmer. Like you were… a long time ago.”

Han Yuze forced a faint smile. “Maybe I just… realized life’s too short to waste.”

The butler’s lips trembled, but he said nothing more, only patting Yuze’s hand before stepping aside to call the doctor.

When the door closed, Yuze let out the breath he’d been holding.

This wasn’t his life. But it was his now. And inside him was an innocent child who hadn’t asked for any of this.

He wouldn’t be the cold, spiteful Rong Xuyao from before. No—he would be Han Yuze. Kind. Gentle. Someone who smiled, even when life hurt. Someone his child could be proud of.

The quiet hum of the hospital ward was interrupted by muffled voices outside.

“…he should have died in the fall,” a low voice muttered. “Pity that old butler caught him in time.”

Yuze froze.

A staff member? So the fall… wasn’t an accident.

Memories aligned sharply—Rong Xuyao at the top of the grand staircase, a hand shoving between his shoulder blades, the rush of air, the crash—then black.

Someone had wanted this body dead. And they might still want him gone.

Yuze’s fingers curled protectively over his belly.

Not on his watch.

When Butler Chen returned, Yuze’s expression was calm again, though his mind churned with questions. “Butler Chen,” he said softly, “thank you… for saving me.”

The old man looked startled. “Young Master—”

“No,” Yuze interrupted gently, shaking his head. “From now on… I’ll live differently. I won’t make your life harder. And…” He glanced down at his stomach, the curve small but undeniable. “I’ll protect this baby. No matter what.”

Something in Butler Chen’s eyes shimmered—hope, maybe, or relief. He bowed slightly. “Then I will protect you both, with my life.”

That night, when the hospital was quiet and moonlight spilled through the blinds, Yuze lay awake, palm over his belly.

Somewhere out there was the father of this child. Someone Xuyao had known, perhaps loved—or perhaps not. Yuze didn’t know which possibility frightened him more.

But he’d find out.

And when he did… he would make sure the truth didn’t destroy the peaceful life he was determined to build.

For himself.

And for the little life growing inside him.

The next morning, the hospital smelled faintly of jasmine tea instead of antiseptic. Butler Chen had insisted on brewing it himself. When Han Yuze(Xuyao )woke, the cup was already waiting on the bedside table.

“Young Master, the doctor says you’re well enough to go home today,” Butler Chen said, his voice tinged with relief.

Home. Yuze’s(Xuyao )mind painted an image of the grand Rong estate from the original owner’s memories—polished marble floors, chandeliers like captured starlight, and corridors long enough to lose yourself in. Beautiful… but cold.

Still, it was safer there than here. Hospitals were too open, too easy for “accidents” to happen.

When the black sedan rolled to a stop in front of the sprawling mansion gates, Yuze felt eyes on him from behind the wrought iron fence. Several staff members had gathered in the front courtyard, lined up in stiff rows. In the original Xuyao’s memories, these homecomings had been… unpleasant. Demands barked like orders, punishments handed out for imagined slights.

Han Yuze(Xuyao ) stepped from the car slowly, one hand absently resting on his belly.

The staff straightened, their expressions carefully blank. Only Butler Chen’s posture eased at the sight of him.

“Welcome home, Young Master,” they chorused.

Yuze (Xuyao)gave a faint, warm smile. “Thank you. I’m glad to be back.”

A ripple of confusion passed through the line. The words were ordinary—but for them, hearing “thank you” from Xuyao was like seeing snow in summer.

They followed him inside, the sound of his footsteps muted on the Persian rugs. As they reached the main hall, Yuze (Xuyao)stopped.

His gaze swept over the group—maids, footmen, kitchen staff, the housekeeper. Most shifted under his calm eyes, unused to the quiet weight of them.

And then, Yuze(Xuyao)saw her.

A woman in her mid-thirties, slim, with sharp eyes that darted away the instant they met his. Lin Mei.

Memories surfaced—she had been the one whispering poison into Xuyao’s ear, stoking his temper when staff made small mistakes, turning him against those who might have shown loyalty. More than once, she’d “accidentally” let slip which servants were gossiping, sending Xuyao into fits of rage that alienated him further.

Manipulation, subtle and constant. She hadn’t pushed him down the stairs herself… but she had made sure he had no friends left to catch him when he fell.

Yuze’s (Xuyao)smile cooled.

“Housekeeper Lin,” he said softly.

She bowed quickly. “Young Master, welcome home.”

“I trust the household has been running smoothly?” His tone was polite, but his eyes didn’t leave hers.

“Yes, of course, everything is—” She faltered under his steady gaze.

“I see,” Yuze(Xuyao) murmured. “We’ll speak later. Privately.”

It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t cruel—but the air in the hall seemed to thin, and Lin Mei’s knuckles tightened around her clipboard.

Over the next hour, Yuze (Xuyao)walked the mansion with Butler Chen, checking rooms and greeting staff.

Where the old Xuyao might have snapped at a crooked vase or cold tea, Yuze (Xuyao)only offered a gentle correction or a kind word.

When he passed the kitchens, he paused at the smell of freshly baked bread. “It smells wonderful,” he said, smiling at the startled chef. “Save me a slice for later?”

The man blinked rapidly before nodding. “Y-Yes, Young Master.”

The maids who served tea in the sitting room expected to be scolded for the faint chip in the porcelain tray. Instead, Yuze (Xuyao) waved it off. “It’s just a tray. Don’t worry about it—accidents happen.”

By the time he reached the garden, whispers had already begun trailing behind him like shadows.

That afternoon, Butler Chen brought him a tray of light food and tea. As Yuze(Xuyao) ate, Chen watched him closely.

“You’ve… changed, Young Master,” he said finally.

Yuze(Xuyao) lifted a brow. “In a good way?”

“In the only way that matters,” Chen said, faintly smiling. But his eyes were searching—quietly weighing the differences. “Before… you were quick to anger. Now… you are patient. It is like seeing the boy I knew before your parents passed.”

Yuze lowered his gaze, hiding the flicker of guilt. That “boy” was gone—Xuyao was gone. Only Han Yuze remained.

He set his teacup down. “Butler Chen, I want you to arrange something for me. Discreetly. Look into Housekeeper Lin’s activities in the past year. Who she speaks to outside, where she spends her time, what… side favors she might be doing.”

Chen’s brows furrowed. “You suspect her?”

Yuze’s (Xuyao) smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t suspect. I know. But I need proof.”

Evening fell, and with it came the private meeting Yuze had promised.

Lin Mei entered the study with measured steps, the lamplight glinting off her pinned hair. “Young Master,” she greeted, voice smooth.

Yuze leaned back in the leather chair, hands folded over his stomach. The flicker of the desk lamp cast shadows over his face.

“Lin Mei,” he began, voice quiet, “you’ve served this household for many years. Seen its changes. Witnessed my… mistakes.”

She shifted slightly. “I have always acted in the household’s best interest.”

Yuze tilted his head. “And was it in the household’s best interest when you convinced me to fire loyal staff without cause? Or when you… failed to stop rumors from spreading?”

Her eyes flashed, just for a moment. “Young Master, I—”

“I remember enough,” Yuze cut in, his tone still calm, but cold now. “And I promise you this—betray me again, and you won’t have the chance to regret it.”

There was no shout, no slammed fist—just the weight of certainty in his voice. A promise, not a threat.

Lin Mei’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Understood.”

“Good.” Yuze’s(Xuyao) voice softened again, almost gentle. “Because I am not the man I was. From now on, loyalty will be rewarded. Betrayal will be removed—quietly, permanently.”

After she left, Butler Chen stepped in from the adjoining room where he had been waiting.

“Young Master,” he said slowly, “it seems… you have not changed entirely.”

Yuze’s(Xuyao) eyes lowered to his belly. “I will be gentle to those who deserve it, Butler Chen. But this child…” His hand pressed protectively over the curve. “This child will grow up safe. And that means removing every viper from this house.”

Butler Chen’s gaze softened with understanding. “Then I will stand with you.”

In the silence that followed, Yuze felt the faintest flutter beneath his palm—so light he almost thought he imagined it.

A new life. His second chance.

And he would protect it, no matter whose blood he had to spill to do it.

The morning sunlight streamed into the study, turning the mahogany desk into a warm, golden surface. Han Yuze sat with a book open in front of him, though his mind was far from the words on the page.

The mansion was quiet, but it wasn’t a peaceful quiet. It was the kind that made you aware of your own breathing, the kind that hinted at eyes watching from unseen corners.

The soft creak of the door broke the silence.

Butler Chen stepped in, a thin folder in his hand. His expression was calm, but the faint tightening around his mouth betrayed his thoughts.

“You have something for me?” Yuze asked.

Chen nodded and placed the folder on the desk. “You were right to be suspicious of Lin Mei. She has been meeting with an outsider every week—always the same man, always in a café far from the city center.”

Yuze’s brow furrowed. “And?”

Chen slid a photograph from the folder. It showed Lin Mei sitting across from a man in a dark coat, her posture relaxed, almost intimate. The man’s face was partially obscured by a turned head, but enough was visible to show sharp features and a calculating smile.

“She has been receiving envelopes from him,” Chen continued. “We believe they contain payment. The timing aligns with… certain incidents in the household—staff dismissed, rumors spread, your most trusted servants driven away.”

Yuze traced the edge of the photo with his finger, his thoughts darkening. No wonder Xuyao was isolated. No wonder no one cared when he fell.

“Do you know who the man is?” he asked quietly.

“Not yet,” Chen admitted. “But my sources say he has been seen in the company of several business rivals of your family.”

Yuze set the photo down, his smile as thin as glass. “Keep digging. If she was willing to sell her loyalty once, she will do it again. And next time… it won’t be me she betrays. It will be my child.”

Later that afternoon, Yuze decided to go through the master bedroom. The original Xuyao’s memories of this place were sharp—flashes of shouting matches, slammed doors, nights spent drinking alone.

But there were gaps. Whole evenings that blurred into nothing.

He opened the wardrobe first. Rows of tailored suits stared back at him, organized by color. On the top shelf, behind a stack of neatly folded scarves, his fingers brushed against something hard.

He pulled it down—a small, polished wooden box with no keyhole, only a simple latch.

When he flipped it open, the faint scent of cedar and something warmer, almost like sandalwood, drifted out.

Inside, nestled in black velvet, was a silver cufflink. Its design was intricate—two entwined dragons forming a circle, their eyes set with tiny dark gemstones. It was clearly custom-made, and it gleamed as if it had been polished often.

Beneath it was a folded envelope.

Yuze’s pulse quickened as he carefully slid the letter out. The handwriting was elegant, each stroke deliberate.

Xuyao,

I don’t care what your family says. I will take responsibility.

When this is over, I’ll come for you and our child.

Wait for me.

— J.

Yuze’s grip tightened on the paper. J. No full name. No address. Just a promise.

When Butler Chen returned to check on him, Yuze showed him the letter.

Chen’s eyes darkened. “Jiang Yuehan,” he said after a pause. “Alpha. CEO of Yuehan Group. A dangerous man to cross, and even more dangerous to love.”

Yuze tilted his head. “So he’s the father?”

“I wouldn’t be certain,” Chen replied slowly. “There were… others in your life before the accident. Lu Shixian—the Beta who grew up with you. Qin Renshu—the Alpha businessman with rumored ties to the underworld. And Song Zeyan—the Omega actor you once shared more than just gossip columns with.” His gaze sharpened. “Any one of them could have been close enough to you… close enough to be the father.”

Yuze’s heart thudded. “And you’re saying… the original Xuyao didn’t keep records?”

Chen’s lips thinned. “Not ones anyone could find. He guarded his privacy fiercely. Perhaps too fiercely.”

That night, Yuze sat on the edge of the massive bed, the wooden box resting on his lap. His hand drifted over the curve of his stomach.

Somewhere out there, four men—each with their own secrets—might have a claim on the life inside him.

And one of them… might also be tied to the night that nearly killed him.

Either way, he would find out.

Because if any of them truly wanted to protect him and this child… they were already late.