After hanging up on yet another call from her biological parents, Qingli set down her phone. Her coworker, who had been discussing work with her and had overheard part of the conversation, mainly because Qingli hadn’t bothered to avoid it—asked curiously, “Family trouble?”
Qingli smiled and nodded. “Mm, my dad is sick again. He wants me to go back.”
Her coworker quickly offered, “I can cover for you for a few days. You should take some time off and go home.”
Qingli shook her head, her tone light. “It’s fine. He’s sick from overworking himself for his son. Can you even call that being sick? That’s just willing devotion. Besides, it’s not like they don’t have money. His son will take care of him, so why should I worry?”
“His son? You have a younger brother?” Her coworker was surprised.
Qingli chuckled. “Yeah. My parents had him when they were in their fifties—just so they could pass down their mighty 120-square-meter kingdom.”
“Pfft!” Her coworker had initially felt a bit sympathetic, but by the end of Qingli’s joke, she couldn’t help but laugh. If she could joke about it like this, it meant she truly didn’t care anymore. Patting Qingli’s shoulder in amusement, she said, “That’s the right mindset. No need to bother. Since there’s already an heir to the throne, we common folk have no place in their affairs.”
“Exactly!” Qingli grinned and handed over the documents in front of her. “I’ve finished these. See if there’s anything else that needs adjusting.”
“Got it.” Her coworker took them, and the two seamlessly returned to work mode.
When the workday ended, Qingli, the firm advocate of no overtime, wasted no time in leaving. As far as she was concerned, having enough money to live comfortably was good enough—there was no need to overwork herself.
If it weren’t for her exceptional work skills, she probably would’ve been fired already.
Her coworker watched with envy as Qingli walked away so freely, sighed, and then buried herself back in her tasks.
Qingli drove home, only to find her place completely empty. Feeling puzzled, she checked her phone—still no messages. Strange.
She flopped onto the couch and sent a message to her boyfriend.
Unexpectedly, the usual instant reply didn’t come. Just as she was about to turn on the TV, she heard light footsteps outside the door.
Sitting up straight, she narrowed her eyes playfully toward the entrance.
A moment later, the door swung open. A young man in his early twenties stood there, holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a large cake in the other. He beamed, “Surprise!”
Qingli stood up with a smile.
He stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug, whispering in her ear, “Happy birthday, my love.”
“Thank you~” Qingli hugged him back.
After her parents had a second child, they completely forgot about her birthday. She had stopped celebrating it too, occasionally just buying herself a small cake whenever she remembered.
She had forgotten it this year. But the person in front of her… had remembered.
“I wanted to pull off a proper surprise,” he pouted, “but you always get off work too early. It’s not even dark yet!”
Still, he clung to her affectionately for a while.
The fresh roses were set aside, the cake was placed on the table, candles were lit, and a cheerful birthday song played. The two of them blew out the candles together, cut the cake, and then… the real fun began—cake smearing!
That night, in a foreign country far from home, Qingli found herself smiling more than she ever had back in her own homeland.
Xia Zhihao was struggling with disappointment.
He never expected that, after being reborn, he would still end up in the same high school as in his past life. That alone felt like a cruel joke.
Panic started creeping in. He wanted to get into a good university, but despite his second chance at life, he feared he would end up in the same mediocre college—or worse, a vocational school.
Desperate, he began pleading with Yang Qing and Xia Yong, insisting that he wanted to study art.
Painting, vocal training—anything that could help boost his college entrance exam score.
But his family simply couldn’t afford it. They were already burning through their savings just to keep him from falling to the bottom of the academic rankings. There was no money left for expensive art classes.
Just like when they had to give up on his street dance lessons in the past, this time, no amount of arguing could change his parents’ decision. They gave him an ultimatum—he could either take remedial classes or pursue art, but not both.
After much internal struggle, Xia Zhihao chose remedial classes.
No one else knew, but he understood his abilities. Without extra tutoring, even the bonus points from an art exam wouldn’t save him.
But some things weren’t up to him.
Just like his desperate wish to turn things around, reality crashed down hard.
He failed the college entrance exam. Again.
His score was slightly better than in his past life—by a few dozen points. But it was still only good enough for a vocational college.
He felt like his world was collapsing.
He had been reborn. He was supposed to be winning at life! But in his past life, he had never dabbled in stocks, never followed business news, had no capital, and no special skills. The only thing he had going for him was his studies. He had dreamed of using this second chance to become a genius, to climb his way into a top university like Qing University and bask in everyone’s admiration.
Not to end up exactly where he was before—looked down upon, seen as a burden, leeching off his brother-in-law.
Why was reality so far from what he had planned?
“Hey, how’d you score?” A friend came over, slinging an arm around his shoulder with a grin.
Xia Zhihao replied hoarsely, “…Not even 400.”
“Eh, I barely got over 400 myself.” The friend scratched his head, looking a bit sheepish. Then, as if reassuring himself, he added, “Good thing my dad was smart enough to make me take up painting. I passed the art exam, so with 400 points, I should be able to get into a second-tier university…”
Xia Zhihao suddenly turned to stare at him, his gaze intense.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152