When I was 200 pounds, she was 100 pounds. She had a perfect figure and everyone envied her. When I was 190 pounds, she was 95 pounds. Everyone chased after her, and she had countless admirers. Just because the art school entrance exam was approaching, she was terrified day and night, afraid I might take even one extra bite of food. So, every day she sent her group of admirers in our class to humiliate me, hoping the stress would make me lose a few more pounds. "I have to lose weight!" Seeing my determination, the class beauty beamed with joy. I wonder if she'll still be smiling when I finally drop to 100 pounds? 01 Sweat from my morning run plastered my hair to my forehead in greasy strands. As the fat on my body jiggled uncontrollably, several boys with their arms around each other's shoulders walked past me, bursting into loud laughter once again. "Yo, fatty, put on a few more pounds, did ya?" "So fat you can't even run, hahahaha." This was a daily occurrence. The class beauty's little group of admirers took turns verbally humiliating me. Morning runs, between classes, during all three meals, even during our lunch break—they never stopped. They were like a piece of sticky tape you couldn't shake off, just like my sweat-soaked clothes clinging to my back. One of them even had the nerve to shove me from behind. The sticky sweat on his fingertips touched my skin through the thin fabric of my shirt. A strong wave of nausea and panic surged in my heart. I flinched violently, my steps stumbling even more, almost falling over. This clumsy reaction drew another round of piercing, explosive laughter. Not far away, the class beauty, Chloe, was standing in the shade of a tree, watching all this with a sweet smile on her face. After she gave an "OK" hand gesture, the boys quickly retreated. With a thud, I tripped and fell heavily forward. Hiss. It hurt so much. My knees hit the ground, scraping off skin and flesh, mixed with the red rubber granules of the track. I lay pathetically on the ground, my heavy body struggling to support itself and get back up. The wind from people running past slapped against my face. Not a single person stepped forward to help me up. Instead, I didn't know who yelled, "Fat pig crashes into Earth!" and the field instantly erupted. "Ahahahaha..." The wind blew the fallen leaves. I sat there, motionless for a long time. Abandoned in the middle of the track, like a piece of garbage in the way. All that was left was the piercing sound of mocking laughter swirling under the clear sky. I yelled at their retreating backs: "I am going to lose weight!" Chloe's departing footsteps halted. She slowly turned around, looking down at me from afar. Her eyes held the cunning of a plan succeeding. 02 I discovered Chloe's secret a week ago. During the school physical exam, Chloe weighed 95 pounds. The dance teacher suggested she lose another 5 pounds to look better on camera. As I passed by the equipment room, I overheard her complaining to her childhood friend, the athletic representative, Liam: "I still have to lose more weight... That dead fatty eats so much, how is she supposed to lose weight?" Fatty? The "exclusive" title made me stop in my tracks out of curiosity. From their subsequent conversation, I learned the truth. A year ago, Chloe bound herself to a weight-loss system and chose me as her reference target. She instructed the system to make her weight exactly half of mine. Because my weight hovered steadily around 180 pounds year-round. Half of that was exactly a standard, healthy weight. No matter how wildly my weight fluctuated, she could securely stay within the 80 to 100-pound range. This allowed her to effortlessly maintain her figure. However, it also brought inconveniences. Not being able to determine her own weight meant every day was like drawing a blind box. Two weeks ago, on my birthday, I won some buffet coupons. I ate non-stop for two weeks and accidentally gained ten pounds. Chloe complained that the fat on her stomach had suddenly expanded. These past few days, I hadn't been eating or drinking properly due to the daily bullying, and I had lost a lot of weight again. Chloe needed to lose 5 pounds, which meant I had to lose 10 pounds. She could have just told me all this openly and honestly. But she had been secretly playing dirty tricks behind my back all along. As I eavesdropped, my heart grew colder and colder. Having people snatch my food during lunch. Putting diet pills in my water bottle. And. Having the athletic rep lead the charge to humiliate me, to pressure me into losing weight... The miserable scenes of being bullied flashed through my mind. She wants me to lose 10 pounds? That's too little. I'll give her another 80 pounds on top of that. A total of 90 pounds would be perfect. Back in the classroom, a black pig pattern was spray-painted onto my desk again. The books in my desk drawer had been thrown into the trash can. When I picked them out, they reeked of a foul odor. Liam stood on the podium, pointing at my nose and shouting: "Did everyone hear that?" "Fatty Lily just roared on the field, actually saying she's going to lose weight!" His words were met with uproarious laughter. "If Lily can lose weight, I'll eat shit!" "If she can get down to 100 pounds, I'll chase her and make her my girlfriend!" ...... "Fine, it's a deal." When that day comes, I'll find them one by one to fulfill their promises. 03 I started a live stream. I used a picture of a popular celebrity as my avatar and named the account "Perfect Figure." The title was simple and brutal: "A 190-pound fat girl's path to redemption, persisting until the art exam." The person in the camera wore a loose, oversized T-shirt to cover the flab, but my thighs were still thick and heavy. I downloaded the most popular workout routines online and followed along clumsily. Sweat quickly soaked through the front and back of my shirt, my cheeks flushed bright red. More and more people flooded into the live stream. "Sisters, today is day 1, and it's seriously exhausting..." A few heartwarming comments floated by sparsely: "You got this, streamer! Keep it up!" "It's always like this at the beginning, take it slow, don't rush!" There was no shortage of nasty comments either: "This woman is ugly and fat." "Just seeking attention." "So fat, why bother taking the art exam? What a joke." I replied that I wasn't taking the art exam, it was just for a bet. "You got this, streamer, you have to win." The supportive netizens were still in the majority. Sweat trickled down, gradually soaking the floor. Just as I collapsed onto the rug in exhaustion, a comment suddenly popped up: "Holy shit?! Is this Fatty Lily from our class? [Shocked Face]" My heart sank violently, an ominous premonition washing over me. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Liam flooded the class group chat. He took screenshots of my ugly, sweaty face after the workout, photoshopped me into the "Michelin Man," and sent it to the class. With the caption: "Lily brand tires, durable and tough!" "Hahahahaha, look at our class's inspirational sister! Live streaming her weight loss, I'm dying laughing! With that tonnage, she's definitely the spokesperson for tires, bros!" The group chat instantly exploded. "Hahahahahaha!" "Oh my god, this picture is epic!" "@Lily, you got this, looking forward to you endorsing three Michelin stars!" I turned off my phone and buried my head in the sofa. After calming down, I turned the live stream back on. I wouldn't admit defeat. So many strangers were cheering me on. Why did the classmates I spent every day with harbor the greatest malice? After ending the stream, I created a strict weight loss plan. Daily meals and their corresponding calories. Workout routines, exercise volume, and target weight. At 5:00 AM, the sky was still dark. I got up to run, jogging all the way from home to school. Before leaving the house, I saw on the calendar that there were 80 days left until the art exam. 04 The morning breeze carried a chill, blowing through my sweat-soaked hair. The early risers going to work all knew there was a girl working hard to lose weight. When the sanitation worker passed by me, she offered a polite smile. "Up so early." The owner of the bagel shop said that for a whole week, I had been his first customer. Looking at the freshly squeezed soy milk and the golden, crispy bagels nearby, I swallowed hard, gritted my teeth, bought a boiled egg, and choked it down with warm water. After class, I walked out of the snoozing classroom and did a few sets of deep squats in the stairwell. Sweat soaked my back, and my legs ached so much they trembled. Occasionally, passing classmates cast curious glances. Chloe and her little clique routinely "passed by" me. Those familiar voices drifted over leisurely again. "Tsk tsk, really trying hard, aren't we." "But it's still not enough." ...... Lunchtime. Boiled chicken breast, broccoli, and a small portion of brown rice. The cafeteria was bustling with noise, and the aromas of various foods tugged at my nerves like hooks. The boys, carrying trays piled high with braised pork and fried chicken legs, deliberately walked past me: "Hey, Lily, is the diet food good? Looks completely tasteless!" "I bet you she won't even make it to the art exam before she binge eats and gains it all back!" "We only live once, and eating and drinking are life's great pleasures. Why torture yourself like this?" Chloe scolded them from the side, afraid I might listen to them and start binge eating immediately. She affectionately linked her arm through mine: "Lily, don't listen to them. You'll look so pretty when you lose the weight." I pretended to be encouraged and looked deeply moved: "I definitely have to lose another ten pounds." To prove myself, I chugged some water and painfully dumped even my diet meal into the trash. Back in the classroom, the girl in front of me was eating fried chicken. The smell of cumin was overpowering, and I quickly buried my head in a book. I couldn't absorb a single word. I sat at my desk, spaced out. I could clearly feel it. In my entire brain, only the olfactory region was working. Countdown to the art exam: 70 days. 05 "Lost 10 pounds in 20 days, so that's 0.5 pounds a day..." I was calculating when I would finally be fully slimmed down. The blank paper in front of me seemed to turn into a piece of soft, fragrant bread. The smell from the cafeteria drifted into the classroom from afar. If I couldn't lose a pound a day. At this rate, my goal was going to fail. Current weight: 170 pounds. Remaining days: 60 days. Required daily weight loss: (170-100)/60 ≈ 1.166 pounds. Oh my god, I have to lose more than a pound a day! My look of utter despair was caught by the homeroom teacher as he patrolled the classroom. I don't know when he stood next to my desk, his sharp gaze sweeping over the numbers on my scratch paper. His brows furrowed, and his tone carried undisguised contempt: "Calculating your weight again? I admit, you have lost a little bit of weight." The classmates all looked at me. Some whispered that I had lost a lot of weight. But the homeroom teacher quickly changed his tune, "But it's only a little bit." "This kind of thing depends on genetics. You couldn't get thin even if you wanted to." He pointedly shifted his gaze to the eternally slender silhouette in the front row: "Some people are just born beautiful, gifted by God." "With your build, one of you equals two of them." The classmates laughed uproariously. Accustomed to being used as a stepping stone, I was already numb to it at this moment. Actually. The homeroom teacher was the first person to lead the bullying against me. Before, when classmates clearly snuck breakfast into the classroom to eat. Only I was singled out to be made an example of. I was punished by having to do wall sits for half an hour with a heavy dictionary balanced on my head. "Look, this is what happens to a 'greedy pig.'" Sweat dripped onto the floor, forming a puddle. The classmates all said it was a urine stain I left behind. Thinking of this, I glared with hatred at the homeroom teacher's profile. "By the way, taking this opportunity to announce something important." He cleared his throat and waved the document in his hand: "The results of the selection for the school's promotional video representative are out." Everyone held their breath. "It's from our class—" "Chloe!" The classroom instantly erupted into enthusiastic applause. "Wow—!" "The class beauty is amazing!" "Well-deserved!" I looked up. Chloe's perfect profile drew everyone's attention under the lights. Like a proud swan. Barring any accidents, in two weeks, the production crew hired by the school would start filming. As the class beauty, Chloe was top-tier in every aspect. Family background, grades, looks, height... Even her weight had reached a perfect level after I lost 10 pounds. From behind, I heard the envious whispers of my classmates: "Chloe seems to have gotten even prettier." "She's so disciplined, how did she manage to lose even more weight?" I leaned back a bit, wanting to hear clearly what they were saying. But the classmate in the seat behind me acted as if she were avoiding a virus. I heard the deliberately lowered voice clear as day: "Ew, so gross." They rubbed their desks vigorously and stopped talking. 06 For two weeks straight, I ate nothing but porridge and greens. During the day, I ran a ten-mile long-distance run at school; at night, I persisted with live-streaming my workouts. Plus frog jumps between classes and jumping rope after dinner. "I am going to lose weight!" Under the setting sun, my shadow was stretched very, very long. Today's goal: 20,000 jumps. "Family, I'm going to do 20,000 jump ropes first, help me get the likes up to 20,000." The sound of the rope hitting the ground was monotonous and heavy. Liam walked past me holding a basketball, "Hey, why are you trying so hard?" He pursed his lips, looking as if he was about to hurl insults at me again. Seeing that I had my live stream on, he turned and left. I ignored him, just jumping mechanically. The face in the live stream also started to show clearer contours. The jawline, once buried in fat, was emerging. Although still round, it was no longer a chaotic blob. As I jumped, my strength began to fail. The netizens on the screen seemed worried: "Streamer, please pay attention to your health." "Don't overdo the weight loss, your heart is going to give out." During this period, I was desperately trying to lose weight. Several times, I fainted during morning study hall due to low blood sugar. During the flag-raising ceremony, I pitched forward and collapsed. Because of this, I even became a "celebrity" at school. While I was exercising, people would always point and stare at me. "Look, that's her!" "Risking her life just to lose weight..." They always looked at me with strange eyes. But there were also many kind-hearted people who encouraged me. In my desk drawer, a few boxes of chocolates inexplicably appeared. With a note attached: "Instructions: Eat when blood sugar is low." I also received thousands of direct messages from netizens on my phone. The scale showed exactly 160 pounds. Chloe was 80 pounds. Countdown to the art exam: 40 days. 07 The production crew arrived as scheduled. The corridors were packed with excited students, craning their necks to look for the adults carrying cameras and wearing baseball caps. In the dance studio, the makeup artist was doing Chloe's makeup. "Huh, did you lose weight again?" "I remember when we did the makeup test last time, it was perfect. The director even praised your face for being as photogenic as a celebrity's." "But... this time I have to contour your cheekbones a bit." Chloe shot a warning glance at me sitting nearby. "Wow, Chloe is basically a fairy!" The girls screamed with envy. The boys peeked through the window like a bunch of creeps. After the makeup was done, Chloe still looked perfect. Her slightly prominent cheekbones and sharp jawline had been contoured to look softer and rounder. When Chloe went to the field for filming, almost the entire school showed up. She stood next to the director, listening attentively to his instructions, a sweet smile on her face. From time to time, she waved at the underclassmen, drawing wave after wave of screams. The sunlight fell on her, as if coating her in a soft glow. "Perfect." The director repeatedly admired the framing in the camera. The surrounding classmates stared fixedly, their whispers full of awe: "Oh my god, Chloe is so beautiful! Like a movie star!" "Even the big director says she was born for this!" "This is what you call a true class beauty. No, she should be the school beauty!" Hearing these words, Chloe held her head even higher. Her gaze swept over the noisy crowd and stared straight into my eyes. I wanted to see a hint of gratitude in them. But there was none. Only smug complacency. Suddenly. "Careful!" As Chloe turned her head, she almost fell. The assistant nearby quickly reached out an arm to help steady her. "Chloe? Are you okay?" the director asked with concern. "I... I'm fine! Director, I'm sorry, I spaced out for a second." Chloe forced a smile, her voice trembling slightly. In her moment of weakness, she subconsciously looked at me again. The exquisite dress seemed empty and heavy on her overly thin shoulders. The girl before me seemed to have remembered something. Her weight would always be half of mine. So, it meant I had lost weight again... At this moment, Chloe was the center of attention. The sun was shining brightly, the cameras were focused on her, surrounded by the praise of the director and classmates. But after today, she was going to take a steep fall. Countdown to the art exam: 30 days. 08 I activated hell mode. Because when I consulted at the gym, the trainer was very dissatisfied with my previous plan. "Lily, you've hit a plateau. You're stuck at 160 pounds, right?" "We have to increase the intensity!" "If you want to keep dropping, you have to break your body's comfort zone!" "Okay!" The morning jog turned into alternating hill sprints. After running, I'd collapse directly onto the rubber track, my vision going black. Plus two swimming sessions a day. Every stroke of my arms felt like they were filled with lead. When I got out of the pool, my whole body would spasm uncontrollably. The most painful part was wearing weighted sandbags on my ankles, starting with 2,000 reps, interspersing high knees and burpees. At midnight, sweat dripped onto the mat, spreading into large, dark patches. I barely had the energy to lift my head. The number of people in the live stream kept dwindling. "I'm heading out first, you got this streamer, keep going sisters." By the time I finished exercising and dried off, it was already 4:00 AM. Only a handful of people were left in the live stream. The moment when the crabapple blossoms had yet to sleep. I looked at the clock. In two more hours, I had to get up again. The moonlight shone through the window, looking somewhat bleak. I really didn't know if I could keep going the next day. 6:00 AM. When the alarm rang, I rolled over. Hiss. My entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck. My limbs felt like they had been newly stitched on. My elbows and knees wouldn't move. Every joint was in agonizing pain. I wanted to pretend I didn't hear the alarm. And just sleep like the dead on the bed. But I opened my eyes and stared at the schedule by my bed. Watching the numbers get smaller and smaller. Countdown 28 days, 157 pounds. Countdown 27 days, 153 pounds. Countdown 26 days, 150 pounds. ...... I absolutely could not give up. I gritted my teeth, dragged myself up, and continued yesterday's journey. "I have some good news for everyone, your streamer has successfully lost 50 pounds." But the bad news was, my period had been delayed for almost three weeks this month. The sanitary pads sitting in the corner had gathered a thick layer of dust. Excessive weight loss was overdrawing my body. 140 pounds. I looked at the numbers on the scale. I'm the best! Countdown to the art exam: 20 days.
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