Chapter 1: The Blurred Childhood Friend

As You Xue’s consciousness sank, distant memories flooded her mind once more.

The light came from far away, slipping through the gaps between mountains, filtering through the spaces between trees, casting a glow on the misty haze.

It must have been spring, because a warm breeze always blew.

Following the wind, she could smell the cool scent of trees and the faint, damp earthiness of soil.

Though the forest was bathed in warm yellow sunlight, everything before her eyes was so blurry.

So blurry that all she could see were the small footprints on the ground and the face of the boy smiling brightly and clearly in front of her.

“Hurry up, we’re going to be late.”

Where to?

The boy reached out his hand.

She took it.

It was warm.

They passed through the hazy woods, climbed over a dirt slope, and waded through a shallow ditch until they saw the sky’s light pouring straight over the green hills, spreading across two gleaming iron rails.

Those two rails lay on the gravel, stretching silently into the distance.

At the end was a large mountain, and the rails disappeared into the lush greenery, like a severed silver thread.

So they were here to see the train.

She understood in a daze.

The boy pulled her up the slope near the rails.

They sat down, and everything around them seemed to shrink.

All the mountains and greenery became a backdrop, with only the rails—thin and bright, like glowing ribbons—standing out.

“The train will come out from over there,” the boy said.

She nodded.

The wind blew her hair across her face, tickling her.

Then the train came.

At first, it was a speck of light in the distance, like a star scattered across the green sky.

Then it drew closer, transforming from a star into a river.

Sound emerged from nothing, starting as the hum of a swarm of bees and becoming a continuous roll of thunder.

It came from far to near, then passed from near to far.

Finally, the train, like a black river, faded into the distance, slowly disappearing from sight.

In the silence, the boy spoke first.

“Do you know where the train comes from?”

She shook her head, not understanding.

“It comes from the city.”

“The city?”

“It’s a bustling place, with a lot of people—ten times more than in our village.

The buildings there are beautiful, ten times prettier than our houses.”

“That sounds nice.”

She tilted her head, echoing the boy.

He said seriously, “I want to go there.”

“Why? Are you leaving the village?”

She asked in surprise.

“It’s a good place. Don’t you want to go?”

She was silent for a moment.

“I don’t know.”

She hesitated.

“If you’re going, I want to go too.”

The boy smiled, radiantly.

“Mm, okay.”

He nodded.

“I’ll take you with me.”

“You won’t abandon me?”

She asked.

“No.”

His tone was firm.

“We’ll always be together, like the engine and the train cars.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

His eyes were bright, without a trace of impurity.

She nodded, and finally smiled too.

Then the light vanished.

The hills, the woods, the rails—all swallowed by darkness.

Then the boy, still smiling, grew more and more blurry, until everything became a gray haze, leaving nothing behind.

You Xue shook her head.

Why did that memory come back again?

That village, that boy, those sad or happy memories—none of them were hers.

She was just a maggot occupying someone else’s body.

This was the world of a novel, and she was an outsider who had taken over the body of the male protagonist’s childhood friend.

The boy in the memory, always smiling, was Su Li, the male protagonist of this somewhat tragic story.

And her past life was a man, also an invalid, who would lie on a hospital bed reading this novel.

He liked the novel very much, and especially liked the protagonist.

When he died, he met a god who told him that he could grant one wish.

He said he wanted his mother to be healthy, his elder brother to succeed in his career, and his family to be happy.

The god said yes, but with one condition—he had to transmigrate into that unfinished, badly ended novel and rewrite its rotten conclusion.

Then he agreed.

He wanted his family not to grieve for him and to live better lives.

And before, he had also fantasized about changing the story.

He wanted to give the protagonist a good, happy ending—not the rough, miserable end in the original.

An ending worthy of all the hardships and wandering along the way.

But instead, the god did let him transmigrate, only to become the male protagonist’s childhood friend, who was terminally ill.

Though it was different from the image he had of fighting alongside Su Li, the short life only made her resolve stronger.

She would take on the identity of You Xue, the male protagonist Su Li’s childhood friend, and rewrite this story full of lingering regrets.

Let those who shouldn’t die live, and let the wicked die cleanly.

Just as she was thinking this, a sharp pain shot through You Xue’s chest, followed by a rusty, metallic sweetness rising from the depths of her throat.

Covering her mouth, she went to the washbasin and spat out the viscous liquid.

It was blood.

This world was not an ordinary, mundane one.

It was a fantasy world filled with various supernatural phenomena, magical items, and incredible abilities beyond imagination.

And the source of all this power came from the free-floating, wondrous particles in the air—what the novel called mana.

You Xue suffered from a strange illness called Magic Rejection Syndrome, which had no cure in this world.

Those with this condition couldn’t use supernatural abilities, and their bodies would grow weaker under the erosion of mana.

Their internal organs would slowly lose vitality, become riddled with wounds, and eventually collapse beyond repair.

The patient could only feel their life slipping away, powerless to stop it.

‘It’s fine. I’ve been through this kind of pain in my past life too.’

You Xue thought to herself.

She looked out the window.

The city was quiet and peaceful at night, but beneath the moonlight, countless undercurrents were stirring.

It was time.

Right now, the story was just beginning—the moment the male protagonist had just entered Dawn Academy.

Dawn Academy was a school for ability users, and among the top-tier ones at that.

Every ability user who entered this academy was an exceptionally talented individual.

And Su Li was one of them.

Just then, her phone screen lit up.

You Xue picked it up and looked.

It was a message.

The technology in this world hadn’t yet reached the stage of smartphones, so communication was limited to calls and text messages.

The text was from Su Li.

[Are you still in Moonview City? I got accepted into Dawn Academy. Want to go out to eat? My treat.]

Why has he been ignoring me for so long?

He said he would never abandon me.

Only when her fingers touched the cold buttons did You Xue realize.

That was the emotion of Su Li’s childhood friend, not her own.

You Xue closed her eyes, calming the chaotic thoughts in her mind.

[I’ve been very busy lately. I don’t have time.]

The reply came quickly.

[What is it? Can’t you change the time?]

You Xue bit her lip, her fingers moving resolutely.

[Not now. Not ever.]

[Why?]

You Xue didn’t reply.

[Are you hiding something from me?]

Still no reply.

[You Xue.]

[You Xue?]

[Pick up the phone.]

Her phone began to vibrate.

The caller ID showed Su Li.

The ringtone rang out starkly in the silent room.

She hesitated, silently watching what was unfolding before her.

You Xue thought of that distant, beautiful village again, and the boy with the clean smile.

He said, “Hurry up, we’re going to be late.”

That wasn’t her.

And it was already too late.

If one person’s death could trade for a happy ending, it was worth it.

She pressed the decline button.

The ringing stopped, and the room fell back into silence.

Then another text came.

[Why?]

Su Li must not understand.

He didn’t need to.

All he needed to know was that his childhood friend had parted ways with him.

[We’re done. Don’t come looking for me again.]

You Xue sent the message, then turned off her phone.

Don’t care about me.

Don’t resent me.

It’s best if you forget me.

This was clearly a good thing, so why was there a phantom ache in her chest?

You Xue clutched her chest.

Sadness?

That wasn’t her emotion.

She muttered in her heart.

‘I’m sorry, You Xue. I’ll repay my sins with my death. But not yet. I still have things I must do—to steer the story toward the ending I want. So after all that’s done, I will die.’

The small room was dim and lightless.

She walked to the bed, slowly lay down, and closed her eyes.