Chapter 3

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Volume 1 + Chapter 3: Never Seen Such Arrogance

What kind of dreams are the most terrifying? Being hunted by ghosts? Dreaming of the loss of loved ones? These can certainly jolt someone awake, leaving them drenched in cold sweat, only to realize in the waking world that it was all just a dream.

However, compared to those, endlessly repeating a meaningless dream is even more torturous. For instance, dreaming about playing a MOBA game with no storyline over and over again, or staring blankly into darkness with nothing happening and no sense of time passing.

Because her brain was almost a blank slate, with no memories to project into the dream, there was no imagery or any chance of recovering her memory through the dream.

This kind of memoryless dream, even after waking up, left a lingering feeling of mental nausea, like a faint shadow of psychological torment.

Even though she couldn’t fully grasp what this feeling from last night was, it planted a seed of yearning for memory deep in the girl’s heart, like the desperate craving for food by someone who is starving.

In addition to that, there was also…

“Grumble~”

“Was that a fart?” Mi Xiaoliu suspiciously touched her uncomfortable stomach.

“No, no,” Sasha explained earnestly. “How could a girl’s fart ever be noticed by anyone? Master, please remember this feeling—you’re experiencing hunger. Because you didn’t eat anything last night or this morning, that’s why you feel this way.”

Beyond the mental torment, her body was indeed crying out in hunger.

Yesterday, there were simply too many things Sasha had to teach her—how to use the faucet, how to brush her teeth, how to wash her face… Every task had to be explained as if she were teaching a baby, step by step. In the process, the matter of filling her stomach had been forgotten.

“Got it,” Mi Xiaoliu said seriously, clutching her stomach.

Eating = spending money.

No money = no food = hunger.

“Around the corner ahead, there’s a bun shop. Meat buns cost 1.5 Mira each, and vegetable buns are 1 Mira each. For your appetite, just 2 Mira for two vegetable buns should suffice for breakfast. But considering you didn’t eat last night either, spending 4 Mira would be better. I suggest you hurry because you’re already almost late,” Sasha advised.

“Understood.”

On the way to school, everyone who saw Mi Xiaoliu’s badge avoided her, going out of their way to steer clear. Some shopkeepers even closed their freshly opened doors when she passed by.

If she lingered anywhere for too long, some of the more short-tempered and fearless ones would pick up blunt objects and point them at her, yelling for her to get lost.

Under such circumstances, it was naturally impossible for her to get breakfast as she had planned.

“This is awful… How could people behave like this? Master, are you going to starve to death and keep reviving again?”

“Starve to death and revive?” Mi Xiaoliu asked, confused.

Though she still couldn’t recall any memories, she could sense that it wasn’t something good.

“Yes, Master’s superpower is self-healing, but it’s not the same as regular self-healing,” Sasha seemed reluctant to delve deeper into the topic. “More importantly, the Master should worry about what to do next. There’s no one you know in this city.”

“How do I get money?”

“That’s a complicated question… Kids your age usually rely on their parents for money, and no legitimate place would hire child labor.”

“Parents?”

“Your parents passed away when you were seven,” Sasha replied.

“Oh.”

It seemed like another bad thing, but the feeling it brought wasn’t as profound as the mention of starving to death and reviving.

“Make way! Get out of the way!”

As she rounded a corner, Mi Xiaoliu heard a girl’s frantic shouting from very close by. Judging by the proximity, her already extended right foot was likely about to collide with the girl in the next second.

A sense of déjà vu washed over her—this stemmed from one of the rare non-common-sense memories she had drawn from the 1% chance yesterday.

In that memory, someone had secretly shown her a youthful romance manga where the male and female protagonists first met by bumping into each other at a corner. That manga even taught how to handle such an encounter.

In the 0.1 seconds before the imminent collision, Mi Xiaoliu used her brain—connected to her “Murphy Network”—to think at lightning speed, momentarily stunning stone players worldwide.

Based on the manga’s storyline, the girl around the corner would probably have a piece of bread in her mouth.

At 0.2 seconds, a red-haired girl with a single ponytail suddenly appeared.

It only took one glance to recognize her as her desk mate from the day before. Since Mi Xiaoliu had just a single day’s worth of memory, she remembered everyone from that day quite vividly.

Sure enough, the girl had a piece of bread clamped between her teeth—just like in the manga.

In her mind, Sasha questioned how the girl could shout so loudly while holding bread in her mouth.

Mi Xiaoliu imitated what she had once seen in the romance manga:

At the last possible moment, she sidestepped the collision with a perfect dodge and swiftly extended a leg.

The girl, who had been recklessly sprinting and disrupting the flow of foot traffic, instantly tripped and fell face-first like a dog.

She seemed very angry.

The heroine in the manga had also been quite angry in a similar situation.

“What are you doing, Master?! Run! We can’t afford to pay her medical bills!” Sasha panicked.

However, Sasha apparently didn’t recognize that this girl was Mi Xiaoliu’s desk mate. This wasn’t the kind of trouble you could simply run away from.

———

“Don’t play dumb! Did you trip me on purpose?”

The ponytailed girl wasn’t injured, though her clothes had a few scrapes. As soon as the class break started, Mi Xiaoliu’s desk mate stormed over and slammed a hand against the wall beside her in a kabedon, demanding answers.

She didn’t even seem to care about the badge on Mi Xiaoliu’s chest that signified danger—after all, it was only there because she refused to cooperate with the medical examination.

If it wasn’t intentional, why would he run after tripping her?

Just yesterday, this short boy who was about the same height as her had touched her ponytail, then her nose, as if he were a pesky child using annoying tactics to get her attention.

Although she was angry, she couldn’t help feeling a bit flattered. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, knowing someone likes you—even if that person isn’t your type—still gives a certain sense of smug satisfaction about your own charm.

But at the end of the day, she was still furious. If this brainless idiot hadn’t tripped her, she wouldn’t have had to spend forty-five minutes of class stuck in the hallway, and now endure another fifty minutes standing here with her.

Maybe it was because the kabedon posture seemed too suggestive, but students near the windows who could see into the hallway quickly focused their attention on the scene.

Others joined in, leaning over for a better look, and someone even let out a teasing “woo~.” Embarrassed, the ponytailed girl’s face flushed red, and she took a step back, pretending nothing had happened.

“On purpose?” Mi Xiaoliu was puzzled.

The 4,000-yuan set of common knowledge she had purchased didn’t include the meaning of the word “on purpose.”

“Master, apologize,” Sasha prompted.

“Apologize?” Mi Xiaoliu mulled over the unfamiliar term.

“Yes, say I’m sorry.” Sasha simplified the explanation.

Following the instruction, Mi Xiaoliu turned to the ponytailed girl and repeated: “Say I’m sorry.”

Ponytail: “???”

She had never met someone so shameless in her entire life.

Sasha: “…”

“What’s going on?” A pair of hands gently rested on the ponytailed girl’s shoulders. It was the blonde-haired, glasses-wearing girl who had been sitting in the protagonist’s seat yesterday.

Standing at an imposing 175 centimeters, she carried herself with pride, always holding her head high. Her chest was prominent, her skin slightly tan, and her bold headband pushed all her bangs back, leaving her forehead completely exposed. Her face, fortunately, was striking enough to pull off such a daring hairstyle.

“She touched my ponytail and… nose yesterday, then stuck out her foot to trip me today. That’s why I was late,” the ponytailed girl complained, pointing at Mi Xiaoliu like she’d found a reliable ally.

“Alright, alright, don’t stoop to his level. He’s just a thirteen-year-old little boy,” the blonde girl said with a smile, gently nudging the ponytailed girl back toward the classroom. She leaned closer and whispered, “Maybe he likes you. Kids always play that silly ‘bully you because I like you’ game to get attention. Don’t take it to heart.”

She had gone through plenty of similar experiences back in elementary and middle school.

“Gross. Bratty kids are the worst.”

“If it were a handsome guy, would you still think it’s gross?”

“If it were Yiwen, I wouldn’t mind.”

“…”

“Maybe he’s just a plain old defective person,” someone chimed in out of nowhere.

It was a strange girl sitting in the far back corner of the classroom.

In the far corner of the last row sat an unusual girl.

She rested her face on one hand and didn’t even glance in this direction. Her short purple hair framed a face that wasn’t entirely visible, but her features were fairly average. She had the slightly hunched posture common among many students. When standing, her height was just a bit over 160 cm—though only just.

Since yesterday, no one had spoken to her, whether during class or breaks. She was clearly an introverted and solitary individual.

What made her stand out, however, was the pair of sunglasses she wore, even during class, covering nearly the entire upper half of her face. Apart from the transfer students—including Mi Xiaoliu—everyone else couldn’t help but steal glances at the sunglasses, as though they were drawn to them.

When she spoke, the entire class fell silent. Once again, they glanced at her sunglasses, as if to confirm they were still in place.

This scrutiny irritated her. She frowned, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she was about to curse.

“I just caught it out of the corner of my eye,” she muttered, pushing the sunglasses deeper onto her face.

“Another defective person.”

Sympathetic gazes fell on Mi Xiaoliu. Even though the sunglasses girl hadn’t elaborated on what exactly was “defective,” her blunt declaration was already considered impolite.

Unfazed by their expressions or words, Mi Xiaoliu returned to her seat. As she did, she accidentally knocked her pen off the desk. Instinctively, she reached out to catch it, but her left hand wasn’t quite quick enough.

A hand from her left side darted out swiftly, catching the pen before it hit the floor.

This was when Mi Xiaoliu noticed that the desk mate on her left—who hadn’t been present yesterday—had come to class today.

It was a boy, with slightly long white hair and gray eyes. He wore a lightweight outfit of mostly white with black accents, seemingly unfazed by the chilly weather outside, which was only around ten degrees Celsius.

He looked strikingly beautiful—almost unnaturally so.

“Hi, I’m Yiwen,” he said, resting his face on the desk as if leaning into a close conversation. A radiant smile lit up his face, and in the sunlight streaming in through the window, he appeared dazzling, as though the sunlight existed solely to highlight him.

He looked like an angel.

Though his voice had a somewhat feminine tone, it was unmistakably male, with no sign of an intentionally lowered pitch.

“Here, take it. A pen with a broken clip is more likely to fall,” he said, handing back the pen.

For students, pen clips were often more useful for snapping off than for holding onto anything.

Sitting upright, Yiwen handed the pen—a black one encased in a red shell—back to Mi Xiaoliu, allowing her to catch a glimpse of tiny cheat notes written on the side of his face. They must have transferred there from the desk where they were originally written.

“Okay,” Mi Xiaoliu nodded, taking the pen from him.