Chapter One: Reborn

As the first rays of dawn pierced through the layers of sky, they spilled softly over the tranquil little town. Gradually, life began to stir within its quiet streets.

At that moment, a dim light glimmered behind the curtains of an ordinary household. After about half an hour, the side door creaked open. Out stepped a girl of thirteen or fourteen, her hair tied into two pigtails.

She closed the door absentmindedly, her expression dazed, and wandered onto the street.

By now, the sun had climbed higher, and the number of pedestrians was steadily increasing. Lin Xia clutched a single yuan in her hand, walking aimlessly down the road, her eyes wide with astonishment at everything she saw.

The narrow asphalt road was lined with unevenly planted pine and cypress trees. It had rained recently—the road was mostly dry, but small puddles lingered in the rough patches of asphalt.

Lin Xia gazed at the familiar houses along the street, her mind struggling to comprehend. On either side were rows of single-story dwellings, with the occasional apartment building jutting awkwardly out, incongruous in the soft morning light.

She stared blankly at one of those old, absurd-looking buildings for a long moment before the truth dawned on her: she had been reborn.

How could this be?

Yesterday had been her twenty-eighth birthday. Yes, Lin Xia belonged to that most popular demographic—an unmarried woman approaching thirty, left behind by the tide of marriage. All her friends had already married and started families, yet she remained single, year after year.

She’d been pursued, had a couple of brief romances, but none came to anything. Lin Xia was someone who would rather be alone than settle for less. She was unwilling to compromise.

In her previous life, she’d attended a third-rate university. After graduation, she’d only worked a few years, and before she knew it, she was twenty-eight.

She herself hadn’t minded, but her college friends couldn’t bear to see her alone. They set her up on several blind dates. When none led anywhere, one particularly persistent friend insisted on introducing her to someone new—a so-called "returnee" who had studied abroad, praised to the skies as if he were one of a kind.

Lin Xia didn’t really care, but for her friend’s sake, she promised to go. Who could have guessed that on her way to the date...

Now, the memory returned to Lin Xia in full. On her way to the meeting, tired and distracted, she failed to notice the changing traffic light and was hit by an oncoming car as she crossed, catching, in the haze, a flash of green light.

When she woke again, she found herself in her old bedroom, more than a decade earlier.

Lin Xia stretched out her hand—a small, dark, healthy palm. No longer the pale, almost translucent hand of someone who’d spent years indoors.

A rush of excitement surged within her. In her previous life, she’d been a homebody, often reading stories online about transmigration and second chances, sometimes dreaming of such a fate herself. Never had she imagined it would actually happen to her one day.

Clenching her fist, she vowed she would not squander this second life. This time, she would live differently.

Lin Xia looked around with delight, taking in every detail—the weathered walls, the climbing vines, even the cobwebs in the corners seemed endearing.

Oh, right. She was still holding a yuan in her hand—her breakfast money. Back then, a bowl of noodles cost only fifty cents. Every day, she’d spend half her money on breakfast and save the other half for snacks or the latest popular stickers.

Glancing down, she realized that in her shock upon waking, she’d dressed herself in two layers. A white T-shirt, a pair of flared jeans, and clunky sneakers. These shoes, she remembered, she’d begged her cousin to help her buy—most girls at school wore this style.

Looking at the bell-bottoms and chunky shoes, she felt a wave of distaste. How could her fashion sense have been so poor back then?

Just then, a white van passed by, and in its window’s reflection, she caught sight of herself—prompting another fit of frustration.

Oh no! She was wearing two pigtails—at twenty-eight! And worse, each was adorned with a little red flower. Her mother’s taste truly was questionable.

Stuffing the yuan into her pocket, she quickly plucked out the gaudy red flowers from her hair. The braids could stay for now—she would undo them at noon, she decided grimly.

When she looked up again, the sign for "Brookstream Middle School" loomed before her—she had arrived at school.

The old iron gate was mottled with rust. Several students in T-shirts approached on bicycles, only to be stopped by the gatekeeper, Old Wang. After a stern reprimand, the students dismounted and obediently pushed their bikes toward the parking lot. Satisfied, Old Wang turned back inside. The moment he disappeared, the students hopped back on and rode off, their cheerful whistles echoing through the small campus.

Lin Xia watched, grinning to herself. Youth truly was invincible.

Just then, a hand landed on her shoulder, and a voice, at once familiar and strange, reached her ear. “Lin Xia, what are you thinking about? I’ve been calling you forever and you didn’t respond.”

Turning, Lin Xia saw a young, innocent face—it was her best friend, Ren Jie.

“Lin Xia, you’re spacing out. What’s with the staring?” Ren Jie waved a hand in front of her eyes. “By the way, did you do the homework the teacher assigned yesterday? I didn’t. Oh no, I just hope she doesn’t call on me to recite.”

Homework? Lin Xia kept her expression neutral, searching her memory. “Was there homework? I don’t remember. Maybe you’re the one who’s mistaken?”

“What? You can’t have forgotten! She assigned us an English dictation yesterday. I can’t believe you’d forget Miss Zhang’s homework—you must have a death wish! Her class is first thing this morning. Let’s hurry and get inside so we can cram a few more words before class.”

Lin Xia walked with her toward the classroom. “Did you study last night? How many words did you memorize?”

Back in middle and high school, Lin Xia had always been pure and straightforward, and so were her friends. There was no scheming among them; getting information from them was simplicity itself.

“Only you could forget Miss Zhang’s homework—you’re something else. I practically burned the midnight oil memorizing every single word,” Ren Jie said with a touch of pride. “If you get stuck, you can always ask your deskmate, Yang Yanju. Her English is great. As long as you don’t get called up to recite at the front, anyway!”

Lin Xia understood instantly—“at the front” meant being summoned to the blackboard to recite. As she pondered quietly, Ren Jie added, “Hey, you’re acting weird today—so quiet.”

“Oh, I was up late watching TV last night. Didn’t sleep well. I’m still groggy.”

Ren Jie gave her a knowing look. “I get it. I wanted to watch too, but Miss Zhang’s homework couldn’t be missed. Lin Xia, you rebel! I admire your courage—tell me all about that show later, I’ve been dying to know what happened.”

Lin Xia nodded calmly, though inwardly she smiled wryly—she had no idea what the current popular dramas were, so how would she describe them?

The bell rang. The two exchanged a glance and hurried into the classroom.

Lin Xia entered and immediately spotted the short-haired Yang Yanju, quickly taking the empty seat beside her.

No sooner had she sat down than Miss Zhang entered, her high heels striking the floor with a brisk, rhythmic beat.

Lin Xia studied Miss Zhang closely, finding everything novel. She wore an off-white blouse, black slacks, and black leather shoes—altogether quite youthful.

Scanning the room, Lin Xia noted that most of her classmates were dressed much like herself, which reassured her immensely. So everyone was equally awkward back then.

She looked again at Miss Zhang—what would be considered a nondescript outfit nowadays seemed positively fashionable in this somewhat shabby classroom.

As Lin Xia mused, Miss Zhang began, “Good morning, class. Yesterday I assigned you a dictation. I hope everyone is prepared. If not, it’s fine—just use this morning’s reading period to memorize all the words we learned yesterday. That’ll do. All right, let’s not waste any more time—begin.”

With her words, the classroom erupted in reading—not a harmonious chorus, but the chaotic din of a marketplace.

Lin Xia glanced at her desk, piled high with textbooks. She rummaged through them—Chinese, math, biology—ah, there was her English book.

She pulled it free and opened the cover, her mouth twitching. Scrawled in flamboyant script on the title page was the English name “Ivy,” a name she’d invented for herself out of boredom, known only to her.

She sorely wished to peel it off with tape, but a glance at Miss Zhang, who was glaring watchfully from the podium, made her silently abandon the idea.

She flipped to the vocabulary list at the back of the lesson and inspected it carefully, feeling satisfied. Though she’d never been a top student and didn’t study outside class, she’d always been obedient in lessons and took diligent notes. Sure enough, every word from the latest unit was annotated.

But her handwriting—so awkward and childish—made her cringe. She had written each character with care, yet the overall effect was still peculiar.

Her handwriting hadn’t improved much over the years—perhaps only a little. As she gazed at the immature script, she resolved to practice until it was presentable; it was too discouraging otherwise.

She skimmed through the vocabulary. Not bad—they were all basic words, easy for someone who had already passed the college English Level 4 test.

Orange, watermelon—Lin Xia lingered over the simple words, thoroughly enjoying the morning reading session, which passed by almost without her noticing.