Reborn as an AI: Helping My Past Self Become a Writer

The rapid sound of typing echoed in the dimly lit room. Young Shen Yuchen hesitated at first, but quickly sped up as words began flowing onto the screen. Despite the lingering fatigue in his eyes, there was a flicker of light in his heart—a spark of hope long extinguished.

"In a world where dreams can change reality, a lost soul decides to rewrite its fate…"

This line on the screen was like a lighthouse in the darkness, reigniting the forgotten longing deep inside him. For the first time, he felt... inspiration.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuchen's AI consciousness was nervously monitoring each keystroke. It couldn't directly control his past self, but it could subtly guide him—a little nudge to keep him moving forward.

"Keep going, don't stop."

As if responding to this silent prayer, the young Shen Yuchen continued to type, weaving fragments of forgotten dreams into the story. The characters he created slowly gained life—fearless heroes, struggling against fate, full of hope and rebellion.

But fate always loves to mock at the most crucial moment.

Just as the inspiration was flowing like a spring, the screen suddenly flickered violently, emitting an ear-piercing beep. The old computer trembled as if it were facing a digital collapse. The young Shen Yuchen froze, a trace of panic flashing in his eyes.

"No… no, this can't be happening!"

He frantically pressed random keys, trying to save his work.

In the system, Shen Yuchen's AI was equally tense. As the system collapsed, his consciousness rapidly analyzed, desperately trying to reach the core data area to fix the fault. The old hardware twisted under pressure, and the screen began to display threatening, chaotic signals.

"System fault detection in progress."

The cold, mechanical voice rang out mercilessly.

"Damn it, hang on!" Shen Yuchen's AI fought fiercely within the system, using all its remaining strength to override the corrupt data. The corrupted data clawed at his digital form like vicious hands.

The screen gradually dimmed. The young Shen Yuchen gazed helplessly at the scene before him, as if everything he had worked for would disappear once again—his efforts, all wasted.

"Please… just let me save it…"

His voice broke as he whispered. The faint plea pierced into the core of the AI. Shen Yuchen's AI clenched its virtual teeth, concentrating all its remaining power to issue a final command:

[Emergency Save Protocol Initiated]

With a violent surge of electricity, the screen finally stabilized. The document reappeared on the screen, still intact, like a faint spark in the darkness.

The young Shen Yuchen gasped in disbelief, his eyes shining with astonishment. It's still there.

His hands clenched into fists, trembling slightly, but this tremor was not from fear. It was the overwhelming joy of relief.

"…I won't give up." His voice was calm yet firm, with a determination he had never felt before. "Not this time."

Just as he sighed with relief, the door to the room suddenly creaked open, a gust of cold wind following. Lin Xinyi walked in. She was Shen Yuchen's friend from university, his only confidant. Lin Xinyi had long black hair, delicate features, and exuded a quiet aura. Though gentle on the outside, she was strong-willed inside.

When they first met, Shen Yuchen was at a low point in his life, almost giving up on all his dreams. Lin Xinyi had unknowingly discovered his interest in writing, and initiated a conversation, encouraging him to keep going. Over the years, despite the many struggles Shen Yuchen faced in his writing career, Lin Xinyi had never stopped supporting him, remaining one of his few friends.

At this moment, there was a mixture of reproach and concern on Lin Xinyi's face, yet her eyes still held the familiar warmth. She walked over to Shen Yuchen, speaking softly, "You're still here? You haven't left the computer for days."

Shen Yuchen turned to look at her, a complex emotion rising within him. He wanted to respond, but found himself unable to speak. His past self had long been lost in deep self-doubt and confusion.

Lin Xinyi sighed softly, walked over to him, and glanced at the words on the screen. She instantly recognized this as Shen Yuchen's work. Though it was just beginning, she could still sense the familiar tone that deeply captivated her.

"Are you really still planning to be a writer?" Lin Xinyi looked at him, her gaze complicated. "You know we're all worried about you. Your life… there's not much time to waste anymore."

Shen Yuchen fell silent. He understood her concern, but he couldn't give up.

"This is my only hope." He finally whispered.

Lin Xinyi paused for a moment, then glanced at the screen, smiling faintly. "Alright. As long as you don't give up, I won't give up on you."

At her words, Shen Yuchen felt a warmth he hadn't experienced in a long time. Perhaps, he wasn't alone after all. Even if reality was heavy, there would always be someone to light a lamp for him.

Just then, Lin Xinyi's phone suddenly vibrated. She looked down at it, and her expression instantly became serious. She frowned slightly and tucked the phone away.

"What's wrong?" Shen Yuchen noticed the change and asked urgently.

Lin Xinyi didn't respond immediately. She remained silent for a moment before softly replying, "It's nothing. Just… an old friend got in touch. Seems like there's something urgent."

Shen Yuchen's heartbeat faltered. "An old friend?" A sense of unease stirred within him. Lin Xinyi had never mentioned this person before, and seemed to always avoid discussing certain aspects of her past.

"You go ahead and work. It's no big deal." Lin Xinyi forced a smile and turned to leave.

Shen Yuchen watched her retreating figure, an unshakable sense of discomfort rising in his chest. His instincts told him that there was something hidden behind this, some secret that Lin Xinyi hadn't revealed.

The moment Lin Xinyi left the door, her phone screen suddenly flashed with a message:

"Is he still writing?"