Willow. Her name meant grace, but her reality was anything but. A daily smoky eye, a mouth full of curses, a true rebel kid. The neighbors would say, “Just what you’d expect from a gambling addict’s spawn.” The teachers would say, “She’s ruining the school’s reputation.” Everyone called her a lost cause, mud that wouldn't stick to a wall. Yet, she was the least of their worries. She left home to work right after high school, and at 20, married out of spite to her own father. But her luck in love was terrible. Far from living happily ever after, She got the whole package deal of misery: cruel, greedy in-laws, a selfish, deceitful husband, and a rebellious, cold daughter. She fell ill and passed away before forty, and her husband openly flirted with another woman at her funeral. It was utterly tragic. And I. I was determined to rewrite her destiny. 1 It all began when I crossed back in time to the year 2000, into the body of someone dying from an incurable illness. No, not dying. Already dead. The girl's name was Skylar. Though terminally ill, she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth; her parents doted on her. In some ways, she was infinitely luckier than me—a person who, though perfectly healthy and full of life, had a dad who didn't care and a mom who didn't love her. Alright, I admit there's a tiny bit of jealousy in that statement. Despite the unscientific event of transmigration, I could feel it: the cancer cells hadn't slowed their invasion and destruction of this body. I died in a car crash and was reborn, but not completely. “Sky.” The hospital room door pushed open, and a beautiful woman, her face shadowed by a faint veil of sorrow, yet forcing a smile, walked in, followed by five or six household staff. The woman was the mother of the girl whose body I now inhabited. Sky was her nickname. “How are you feeling today? Anywhere uncomfortable?” Honestly, I felt uncomfortable everywhere. Since I’d arrived, it had been less than half a month, and I’d already undergone five rounds of chemotherapy. Each one felt like the agony of being flayed alive. But facing Eleanor, Skylar’s mother, at this moment, I could only put on a brave face. “I think I have a bit more energy than yesterday.” Eleanor’s eyes instantly sparkled with dazzling hope. She rushed to the bedside, scooping up my hand as if it were a fragile piece of porcelain. “Really? Oh, then, do you feel like eating anything, Sky? Mommy made your favorite mini pastries today, they’re still warm! Want a bite?” I truly had no appetite, but for the sake of a mother's heartfelt kindness, I could manage a bite. But Eleanor still noticed my hesitation and immediately had the pastries taken away. “Sky,” Eleanor forced a smile, “Your eighteenth birthday is coming up soon. Have you thought about how you want to celebrate?” I thought for a moment, then told her what was, for both me and the original Skylar, the greatest desire so far. “Mom, I want to go to school.” 2 The year 2000, Northwood High. If this wasn’t a parallel universe, then… “Hey, hey, move it, pal! Get out of the way, will ya?” A sharp retort interrupted my thoughts, followed by a flash of a girl—her uniform jacket tied at her waist, wearing a short skirt even in the dead of winter—dashing past me. A gust of cold wind followed in her wake. “Miss! That student was so rude! Are you feeling alright? Should we go back to the doctor–” My private nurse, Ben, who was here as a chaperone, nervously rushed over, fussing with concern, afraid I couldn’t handle the sudden draft. “I’m fine.” Cutting off Ben’s incessant chatter, I looked at the distant figure who had already run off, lost in thought. Ben quietly closed his mouth, but began to watch our surroundings constantly. After that incident, he was even more on edge. Thankfully, everything went smoothly afterward. After completing the registration process at the administrative office, our homeroom teacher led us to my new classroom. Senior Year, Class 9. It was silent reading time, but a few students stood haphazardly at the classroom door, all looking utterly blasé. Among them was the girl in the short skirt I’d seen moments ago. She stood out conspicuously among the boys, leaning against the wall, head bowed, her brightly colored hair falling over her face. Seeing the nurse, the hand pushing my wheelchair instinctively tightened. “Miss, isn’t that the one from earlier…” I gave him a cool glance, and Ben immediately shut up, though his face still showed confusion. Hearing the commotion, the students at the classroom door all turned to look. Mr. Finch, the homeroom teacher, looked livid. “You lot again!” Mr. Finch’s gaze, sharp as a knife, sliced across each student, but deliberately skipped over the girl in the short skirt. The boys grinned sheepishly: “Honestly, Mr. Finch, we tried our best today, we were only one minute late!” Mr. Finch looked exasperated. “One minute? Your total tardiness for this semester has already exceeded 72 hours!” The boys wheedled and cajoled Mr. Finch, who, losing his temper, waved them into the classroom. Again, he deliberately skipped over the girl in the short skirt. 3 Perhaps because I didn't need to study hard, Senior year was far more relaxed than I expected. Of course, arriving at school in a wheelchair, accompanied by a nurse and bodyguards, immediately piqued the curiosity of most students. They speculated about my background, gossiped about my health, and most of their words weren't very pleasant. Once it was clear the bodyguards wouldn't easily interfere, my classmates joined the gossip brigade. “Coming to school in a wheelchair, probably just a drama queen.” “And the nurse and bodyguards? Too many melodramatic movies, huh?” “She thinks she’s some kind of star.” A few girls huddled together, whispering. Their seats weren't far from mine, and I could hear every word clearly. Ben intended to intervene, but I had no desire for a confrontation at school, so I held him back. But then, a second later. Bang! “Ahhh!!!” A loud crash, followed by several screams, erupted. I turned my head, startled, to see the girl in the short skirt, Willow, looking impatient. “Are your mouths permanently stuck on repeat? Non-stop chatter this early. If you love talking so much, maybe try stand-up comedy instead of school. You’d probably ace it.” The overturned desk lay on its side, its contents scattered across the floor like confetti. The girls who had been badmouthing me moments ago huddled together, looking utterly shaken. Willow frustratingly ran a hand through her hair, as if muttering to herself. “Haven’t brushed your teeth in years? Your breath stinks so bad, you’d think this classroom was a sewer.” The girls’ faces turned ashen with anger, but none dared to confront her directly. The previously noisy classroom fell silent in an instant. 4 “Pfft.” Inappropriate time, place, and atmosphere. Inappropriate laughter. The girls who had just been quivering like quail before Willow immediately glared at me, subtly but fiercely. I met their gazes unperturbed. Barely old enough to drive, their collective courage was more fragile than a soap bubble. Within seconds, the girls nervously shifted their eyes away under my cool stare. Willow scoffed, hands in her pockets, and walked out of the classroom. The girls reverted to their old habits, starting to chirp about someone again, but this time, their target was Willow. “Hmph. Deadbeat dad, and a mom who ran off with another man. No idea why she acts so high and mighty all the time!” “My mom said her dad sometimes gets drunk and hits her! On the surface, she looks fine, but she’s bruised black and blue underneath, it’s horrible!” “Serves her right! People like her are just a waste of air.” “Hey, I heard she’s also involved with some sketchy crowd outside of school, I wonder…” The girl didn’t finish her sentence. A few of them suddenly let out knowing giggles. She just stuck up for me, so I couldn’t just sit by, could I? Amidst the girls’ meaningful laughter, I raised my hand and tapped the desk in front of me, sweeping my gaze coolly across them. “Can’t you go a minute without badmouthing someone? ‘Gossip queens’ definitely suits you three.” “You!” One of them, Ruby, with straight-cut bangs, indignantly stood up, as if coming to confront me. I smirked, casually retorting. “Heard who? Your shady friends? If you were so brave, why didn’t you dare say a word earlier?” Ruby sputtered in anger: “Are you effing crazy?! We weren’t talking about you! Stop looking for trouble!” I smiled faintly. “Can’t help it. Guess I’m just a drama queen.” 5 As expected, The girls ran to Mr. Finch to complain, playing the victims. When I was called to his office, The moment I stepped inside, I saw their triumphant expressions, clearly expecting a show. I shook my head inwardly. It was time to give them a little shock. Seeing me enter, Mr. Finch immediately stood up and rushed forward, even taking over from Ben, personally pushing my wheelchair to his desk. He said nothing about the complaint, only fussing over my well-being with eager concern. The previously smug girls looked dumbfounded, standing awkwardly, unsure whether to stay or leave. I glanced at them. Mr. Finch didn’t speak, and neither did I, just leaving them hanging. After a few minutes of polite small talk, someone finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Mr. Finch, Skylar cursed at us for no reason in class! The whole class can vouch for it!” Mr. Finch’s smile instantly froze. He glared at the girl, then turned to me, gently seeking confirmation. “Skylar, is what they’re saying true?” I gave an affirmative answer. “Yes, cursing was indeed a fact.” Mr. Finch, who was clearly ready to defend me, stared blankly, his mouth half-open. The girls immediately became smug again. I chuckled inwardly, then continued: “But I didn’t curse without reason.” “How not?!” Ruby, the one with bangs, blurted out anxiously. I gave her a poker-faced glance, then, mimicking their previous tone precisely, recounted every single one of their nasty comments to Mr. Finch. “Publicly cursing is certainly wrong, but my actions can at most be considered self-defense.” 6 After hearing my recitation, Mr. Finch’s face turned green. The girls immediately started yelling. “You’re lying!” “Stop slandering us! We never talk behind our classmates’ backs!” “You’re just making things up!” It was as if their mouths could hold up the sky. Too lazy to bother with them, I addressed Mr. Finch directly: “Of course, if you don’t believe me, you can do as they say and call the other classmates to confront us face-to-face.” “No need for a confrontation!” Mr. Finch said bluntly: “Skylar, I know you wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Then, he turned to the girls: “Maliciously speculating about others, spreading harmful rumors, and then playing the victim by complaining first! Is this what you’re learning at school?!” The girls were completely dumbfounded. They had probably grown accustomed to using the same tactics against others. Now, faced with Mr. Finch’s sudden reversal, they instantly broke down. “Mr. Finch, you know us! We’ve never wronged or slandered any classmate! It’s her, she’s the one who–” “Alright, alright!” Mr. Finch waved his hand, cutting off their excuses impatiently. “In the past, I turned a blind eye a few times, considering your good grades. But now, Skylar has just transferred to our school, and she’s not well. Instead of helping and looking after a new classmate, you’re brazenly slandering her! It’s completely unacceptable!” Mr. Finch looked utterly righteous. “You three, apologize to Skylar immediately, or I’ll have to call your parents to school for a serious discussion!” “No, Mr. Finch, please don’t call our parents!” The girls cried out in panicked helplessness. The three of them glared at me resentfully. Judging by their furious expressions, they were probably wondering what magic potion I’d given Mr. Finch. Girls who were used to ruling the roost in the ivory tower of high school. This was probably their first encounter with a "pay-to-win player" like me. 7 Ultimately, the girls, unwillingly and grudgingly, were forced by Mr. Finch to apologize to me. Mr. Finch would, of course, side with me. After all, to ensure my comfortable schooling, my parents had, without a second thought, agreed to renovate the school’s athletic fields, donated two academic buildings and a science lab, and, fearing I might not eat well, even arranged for a dozen star chefs for the school cafeteria. Even the ingredient procurement had a dedicated team. Oh, and this morning before heading to school, I heard my parents discussing plans to replace all the school’s desks and chairs with more ergonomic ones. Was I a normal student? Clearly, I was the school’s cherished benefactor. Let alone the homeroom teacher, even if they complained to the grade head, the principal, or even the superintendent. Who among them would dare to say a single bad word about me? On the way back to the classroom from the office, the few girls walked distinctly on the other side. Nearing the door, Ruby suddenly stopped, her eyes fixed on me with resentment. “She must have used some underhanded trick to get Mr. Finch on her side! Just you wait, we’re not letting this go!” I shrugged, making no comment on her words. Even if she didn’t let it go, what could she do? Nothing but the usual isolation tactics. As for more severe physical bullying. I wasn’t being presumptuous, but just seeing how two sentences from Willow had silenced them, and how they only dared to complain about me, I knew that even without a nurse and bodyguards, they lacked the guts. The moment I entered the classroom, my gaze happened to meet Willow’s. She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and slumped onto her desk, clearly intending to take a nap. I gestured for Ben to push me over. Ben, though confused, strictly followed my parents’ instructions, always prioritizing me. As I reached Willow’s desk, I boldly tapped on the surface. Willow looked up, her eyes incredibly impatient, but when she saw who it was, surprise flickered across her face. But Willow, determined to maintain her rebel persona, still spoke harshly. “Got a problem?” 8 Facing Willow’s rude remark, I calmly nodded. “Yeah, why else would I be in a wheelchair?” Willow froze, completely dumbfounded. I smiled and leaned in closer: “Hey, thanks for sticking up for me earlier.” The girl, snapping out of her daze, rolled her eyes to cover her embarrassment. “What’s it got to do with you? I cursed them out purely because they were bothering my nap.” I ignored her bad temper, glancing at the English textbook on her desk. “Hey, next period is Mr. Finch’s math class. Even if you want to sleep, you should at least put out your math book, or he’ll find a reason to pick on you.” Willow’s expression grew even more impatient. She raised an eyebrow, sizing me up repeatedly. The class bell suddenly rang. Willow didn’t hesitate to dismiss me: “I’ll put out whatever book I please. No need for you to be nosy. Get lost!” Seeing the uncontrollable annoyance and embarrassment on her young, pretty face, I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. Just before Willow could lash out in fury, I gestured for Ben to push me back to my seat. On the way, passing Ruby’s desk, I overheard her nasty comment to her deskmate. “Birds of a feather, I guess. Trash belongs with trash. They’re a match made in hell!” I signaled Ben to stop, then turned to face Ruby with a blank expression. Ruby looked at me warily, warning: “What! I wasn’t talking about you! Don’t jump to conclusions!” I smiled faintly. Then, a second before Mr. Finch walked into the classroom, I quickly grabbed Ruby’s hand, twisted my body, and slammed myself onto the floor. Amidst the rising screams and gasps, I hit the ground hard. 9 For publicly assaulting a sick classmate, Ruby’s parents were called to school by Mr. Finch. Hearing I’d been bullied, Eleanor rushed to the school immediately. Upon seeing me in the infirmary, my arms and legs covered in fresh bruises, Eleanor’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Mrs. Albright…” Bypassing the Vice Principal who was trying to schmooze her, Eleanor rushed to my side. “Skylar, Skylar, are you okay? How did you get such serious injuries? It must hurt so much, doesn’t it? Tell me, who bullied you? Mommy won’t let them off easy!” Although I had used a self-inflicted injury to get Ruby a disciplinary record and sent home to reflect, The moment I saw Eleanor’s tears, I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I’m sorry, for hurting your daughter’s body. “Mom,” I gently called her, “I’m fine, please don’t be sad…” With outsiders present, Eleanor quickly composed herself. She gently patted my shoulder twice, then stood up and turned to the flustered Vice Principal, her tone sharp and serious. “Vice Principal Miller, the school personally promised me they would create a 100% safe learning environment for Skylar. And since Skylar also expressed interest in attending here, Richard and I ultimately chose to enroll her. But now, less than a week after Skylar’s enrollment, something like this has happened, making me question whether your school can truly deliver on its promises. If not, we will transfer Skylar as soon as possible!” “We can!” The Vice Principal, sweating profusely, terrified of losing the financial backing, stated unequivocally. “Mrs. Albright, I guarantee you, absolutely nothing like this will happen again from now on!” Eleanor said nothing, only giving the man before her a cold, scrutinizing look. The atmosphere in the infirmary suddenly became suffocating. The Vice Principal’s sweat flowed even faster. He frantically wiped his brow while apologizing to Eleanor, swearing repeatedly. Finally, Eleanor glanced around the infirmary and asked, “Where is the student who pushed my daughter?” The Vice Principal quickly replied. “The school has already disciplined that student! Her parents have taken her home to reflect.” Seeing Eleanor frown, he added: “Of course, if you’d like to personally meet that student, we’ll contact her parents immediately and bring her to school!” After a moment of thought, Eleanor waved her hand. “Let’s leave it at this for now. If it happens again…” “No, no, don’t worry! Absolutely it won’t happen again!” 10 After dismissing the Vice Principal, Eleanor returned to the bedside, shedding the assertive demeanor she’d maintained for outsiders. “Skylar.” She gently stroked my hair, her voice trembling with lingering fear: “Do you really have to attend school? Your father and I are so worried your body won’t be able to handle it. Your last check-up report… ” Eleanor couldn’t continue, her eyes suddenly filled with a painful redness, and her hand, as it dropped, trembled uncontrollably. Everyone knew the truth. No matter how much money the Albright family could pour in, Skylar’s body was already at its limit, like a lamp running out of oil. When I first arrived, I saw from Skylar’s memories that, because her illness was congenital, her parents had taken her to countless hospitals since childhood. Domestic and international, they traveled to so many places. But all doctors gave the same exact answer. “Given current medical technology, all we can do is extend her life by a few years.” But no matter how much they extended it, Skylar had no chance of living past 20. “Mom,” I held Eleanor’s hand, trying to speak in a tone as normal as possible: “I know my body better than anyone. Please, just consider this my lifelong wish. I truly don’t want to be confined to a small hospital room until the very end.” Although, given the Albright family’s wealth, the hospital rooms Skylar had stayed in since childhood were more spacious and comfortable than most ordinary people’s homes. But no matter how spacious or luxurious, a hospital room was still just a hospital room. Skylar had suffered from being cooped up for too long; she dreamed of stepping out and seeing the world. She was just too thoughtful, not wanting her parents to worry, so she had always endured and restrained herself, never even taking a single step outside until she finally left this world. I admit that my insistence on attending Northwood High this time was because I had something I absolutely had to accomplish. But wasn’t this also Skylar’s wish? “Mom.” Seeing Eleanor didn’t want to talk about it, I smoothly changed the subject. “I found a really interesting girl at school. I really want to be friends with her, but she doesn’t seem to like me very much.” Sure enough, Eleanor’s attention was quickly diverted, and she listened as I recounted Willow’s story. 11 Clearly, my first interaction with Willow hadn't fully captured her attention. But I wouldn't be deterred by that. Even after returning home to recuperate for a few days and then going back to school, I continued my persistent efforts to approach her. “What now?” Under my relentless “harassment,” Willow had finally managed to patiently exchange a few words with me. I rested my crossed arms on her desk, my chin propped up. “Willow, this Saturday is my birthday. Do you want to come to my house to celebrate?” Willow’s tightly furrowed brow looked like it could crush walnuts. She pursed her lips, exasperated. “No, seriously, I don’t think we’re that close, are we? And who gave you permission to call me that?!” To me, her behavior was no different from a kitten throwing a tantrum. So I continued boldly. “But from the time you spoke up for me, I’ve considered you my friend!” I looked at her with eyes crinkled in a smile: “If I could have a friend as smart, pretty, and cute as you, I’d be the happiest girl in the world!” Willow’s eyes widened as if she’d seen a ghost. I pretended not to notice, carefully tugging at her oversized school uniform sleeve, begging humbly. “Please, please, come celebrate my birthday!” Willow impatiently ran a hand through her messy dark hair: “Fine, fine, fine! Just stop being crazy, and I’ll do whatever you want!” She’d already said it, how could I not press my advantage? “Okay, then let’s walk home together after school tonight!” Willow: “…” Though she didn’t say anything, just by looking at her expression, I knew she was cursing up a storm. To show my sincerity, I immediately placed several types of pastries, which I’d specifically asked the household cook to make yesterday, on her desk. “Willow, try these! They’re all your favorite flavors!” Willow looked at me suspiciously: “How do you know what flavors I like?” I chuckled mischievously. “Guess! I’ll tell you a secret: I know you better than you think.” Then Willow’s gaze at me turned into: “Are you, like, a total creep?”
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