Westridge Academy – Early Morning
Lin Yuezhen didn't think much of it and left.
Alexander Sterling took off his school uniform and went to the small bathroom outside to shower.
The tenement building still had an old electric water heater—small tank, shared among several households. By this hour, the hot water was long gone.
Cold water streamed over his sharp brow, down his shoulders, across his taut stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
When he lay back on the couch, the leather beneath him was warm.
But Alexander felt at ease.
Exhaustion from the day washed over him, pulling his eyelids shut.
Back in the flophouse, they hadn't even had a showerhead—just a basin of water and a rag.
His injured hand couldn't wring the towel dry, so he'd hang it outside, still dripping by morning.
An old woman from downstairs had complained once. After that, Lin would wait by the door, silently wringing the towel for him.
It wasn't dirty.
But she was his mother.
The shame of it made his skin crawl.
This was better.
A New Beginning
Sophia Carter's first weekend after her rebirth was transformative.
She attended her music classes diligently, practiced the cello at home, and even volunteered to accompany Eleanor to inspect potential factory sites in the neighboring city.
Packing faster than a soldier on deployment, she practically dove into the backseat of the car when the driver arrived.
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "It's just wasteland out there. No McDonald's, no shopping."
"I don't need company. If anything comes up, your uncle can handle it."
Sophia shook her head. "Uncle's not half as useful as I am."
Eleanor smirked. "Oh?"
Sophia's palms were sweating.
She couldn't let Daniel Carter—her uncle—get his hooks into the factory plans. Not again.
"Remember when you used to take me to pick store locations? I always picked the lucky ones."
"If you bring me this time, I guarantee the land will be prosperous. Two years, we'll upgrade the house. Three, you'll be on the Forbes list."
Eleanor laughed, pinching her daughter's soft cheek.
Monday Morning
Daniel arrived half an hour early for breakfast, his eyes darting to Eleanor repeatedly.
"Heard you've been scouting factory sites," he ventured.
Eleanor shrugged. "Just looking. Nothing's decided."
"You've only been in the city a month. No need to rush."
Daniel forced a smile. "Mom says I've changed. My old bosses all said I was reliable."
A maid brought over bowls of sweetened tremella soup.
Sophia, silent until now, spoke up. "Uncle's great."
Daniel perked up—until she continued.
"His driving's so smooth. No jerky brakes like the old driver. And when we passed that night market, nobody dared mess with me when he was around."
Her voice was sweet, earnest.
Eleanor chuckled. "Then maybe Uncle should drive you more often."
Two pairs of identical almond eyes turned to Daniel.
His face darkened.
Trapped.
First to Arrive
The school was quiet at dawn, the halls empty.
Sophia pushed open the classroom door—and froze.
There, at their shared desk, sat Alexander Sterling.
White uniform, zipped to the collar, bathed in golden morning light.
He looked up.
Their eyes met.
Sophia's throat went dry. "You… see me?"
Idiot.
Of course he saw her. She wasn't a ghost.
Alexander's gaze dropped back to his book. "Mn."
He'd seen her long before she entered—skipping down the path, backpack jingling with charms, rabbit hair tie bouncing in her ponytail.
A girl who could be happy about school.
Now, though, she wilted under his stare.
Sophia edged closer, her scent—something floral and sweet—filling the space between them.
Alexander held his breath.
"Does it still hurt?" she whispered, eyeing his injured hand.
The burn had faded, thanks to the ointment she'd given him.
But the dressing was gone.
"You didn't use the bandage?"
A pause. Then—
"You help me put it on?"
Sophia blinked. "...Okay."
She didn't question why he'd ask when the supplies were at home.
Didn't notice how his fingers tensed when she touched his wrist.
Just focused on smoothing the adhesive over his scars, her small hands warm against his skin.
Alexander watched her.
The way her brow furrowed in concentration.
The way her lips parted slightly when she exhaled.
Every brush of her fingertips sent a jolt through him—an itch deep in his bones, a thirst he couldn't quench.
"Does it hurt?" she asked again.
Alexander clenched his jaw.
What if he said yes?
Would she lean closer? Whisper softer?
The thought made his pulse spike.
"No," he lied.
The Note Exchange
By first period, Sophia had filled three pages with Mia Harper's math notes—color-coded, starred, and utterly incomprehensible.
She admired her work, grinning.
Alexander glanced over.
"Second problem's wrong."
Before she could protest, he redrew the diagram—a single, precise line that changed everything.
"Try again."
Sophia gaped. "You're amazing."
Alexander returned to his book, but the praise lingered—unwanted, unsettling.
Like her touch.
Like her scent.
Like the way she looked at him, as if he were someone worth saving.
Westridge Academy – Lunchtime
Sophia Carter could only appreciate what she understood.
Staring at the perfectly straight line Alexander had drawn on her notebook, she exhaled in awe. "You're amazing."
The boy didn't respond, methodically organizing his desk.
Unlike their rowdy classmates, Alexander hadn't learned to be reserved—he'd been born that way. Unreadable. Impenetrable.
Sophia stole glances at him, trying to decipher his mood.
But the warning bell rang, and Alexander still hadn't acknowledged her.
Panic prickled her chest.
Had she annoyed him?
Biting her lip, she dug out her last pack of strawberry wafer biscuits and slid it across the desk.
"For you," she whispered.
A bribe, plain and simple.
Alexander's pale eyes dropped to the offering.
Pink packaging. A cartoon puppy with cherry blossoms.
It smelled like her—sweet, fruity, unbearably warm.
Returning it would've been easy.
Yet his fingers closed around the treat, tucking it away without a word.
The Cafeteria
Monday's classes flew by—literature, English, nothing too taxing.
When the lunch bell rang, Sophia grabbed Mia Harper's wrist and bolted.
Westridge Academy spared no expense for its "Top 100 Schools" ranking, even hiring a Sichuan chef for the student cafeteria.
The spicy aromas drew crowds.
Sophia secured a table, loading it with dishes—all but one vegetarian.
"You know they're cracking down on leftovers this semester," Mia fretted, poking at her rice. "Points deduction if we don't finish."
Sophia shrugged, plopping a slice of boiled fish into Mia's bowl. "Then we'll eat it all."
Mia gaped. "You… hate greasy food."
"I lied," Sophia admitted, cheeks bulging. "I love it."
Her appetite was inherited from Eleanor Carter—a woman who'd take hotpot over haute cuisine any day.
In her past life, Sophia had starved herself to fit some absurd standard, surviving on steamed vegetables and the occasional rice grain.
Now?
Now she ate like a normal human being.
Mia watched, wide-eyed, as Sophia demolished her meal.
"You're not fat," she blurted. "And Lucas Grant isn't worth it."
Sophia paused.
"I know," she said softly. "My taste was trash."
Mia's ears turned pink. "I mean… the way he let those guys talk about you at the sports festival—"
"Ancient history." Sophia dumped more chicken into Mia's bowl. "Eat. You're too skinny."
She grinned. "And call me Sophie from now on."
Mia's whisper was barely audible. "...Sophie."
The name hung between them, fragile and new.
Then—
"The new guy… Alexander." Mia hesitated. "He's kind of intense."
Sophia nearly choked.
Damn, Mia. Spot on.
The Hallway Encounter
After lunch, Sophia scanned the cafeteria's charity window—three-yuan meals, next to the free congee station.
No Alexander.
She found him by the lockers instead.
Or rather, she found Lucas Grant lying in wait.
"Avoiding me, Princess?"
Sophia stiffened.
Same aristocratic features. Same effortless charm.
And those eyes—dark, gleaming, the kind that made girls swoon.
"You missed orchestra auditions," Lucas said, blocking her path.
Shit.
She'd forgotten.
The youth symphony was her ticket to college—two spots per year, fiercely contested.
"I'll be there," she muttered, sidestepping him.
Lucas caught her wrist. "Teacher paired us as leads."
His grip tightened briefly before letting go.
Sophia rubbed her skin, watching him saunter off.
Same old Lucas.
Charming.
Poisonous.
And still, somehow, in her way.