Chapter 1: Rebirth  

Summer in City A felt like being trapped under an overturned, scorching iron pan. The air was hot enough to fry an egg, and even the cicadas outside the window chirped weakly, drained of energy.  

Lin Yumo lay buried under the cool, silky air-conditioned blanket, her consciousness like cotton soaked in warm water—hazy and heavy. Amidst the drowsiness, two familiar voices brushed against her ears like feathers.  

“Little Jasmine just finished her high school entrance exams yesterday. Let her sleep a little longer.” The man’s voice carried an air of unquestionable authority, though the tail end of his words was laced with tenderness.  

“She’s been exhausted lately. We can reheat breakfast when she wakes up.” It was Dad—he always said “Little Jasmine” in a voice that was deep yet soft.  

“Got it. Wouldn’t dare disturb our little princess,” a gentle woman’s voice chimed in.  

“I left a note by her bedside, and Wu Ma has been told—the porridge and milk are kept warm in the insulated box.”  

Mom’s voice was light with amusement, accompanied by faint rustling sounds, as if she were tiptoeing to place the note on the nightstand.  

“Thank you, Ruru,” Dad’s voice suddenly softened. “That apricot dress looks lovely on you today.”  

“Always so sweet-tongued,” Mom chided lightly, a hint of girlish shyness in her tone.  

“Come on, let’s go. Don’t just stand here—let Little Jasmine sleep properly.”  

The door clicked shut with a nearly inaudible sound, followed by fading footsteps.  

Lin Yumo’s eyelashes fluttered. She recognized those voices.  

It was Mom and Dad. But she had moved out after graduating from college, living in an apartment close to her workplace… So why was she hearing them whispering beside her?  

Bewildered, she pushed herself up and scanned the room—the pale pink walls, the desk piled high with study materials, the little bear plushie on the bedside table that had accompanied her throughout middle school…  

The rabbit-shaped desk lamp still sat in its usual spot, next to a stack of practice books nearly half her height. The words “High School Entrance Exam Sprint” on the covers were doodled over with colorful markers. This was the home she had lived in from middle school until high school graduation—a spacious apartment just five minutes from school.  

Later, after she started university, her family had moved to a villa with a garden. By her calculations, that had been nearly a decade ago.  

She sat up slowly, her head feeling like a waterlogged lump of cotton—dizzy and heavy. Her fingers absently traced the bedsheet, the pure cotton fabric carrying the warm, sun-dried scent she hadn’t smelled in years.  

Her gaze drifted to the calendar in the corner of the desk. The date circled in red was unmistakably **June 15, 2017**.  

2017?  

Lin Yumo blinked, then rubbed her eyes hard. The numbers stubbornly remained on the page.  

Had she… *gone back in time*? To the first day after her high school entrance exams?  

A floodgate burst open in her mind—memories from her past life surged forth uncontrollably.  

That summer had been unusually hot. The ceiling fans in the exam hall spun weakly, blowing hot air laced with chalk dust straight into her throat. To make matters worse, it was that time of the month—her lower abdomen felt like it was weighed down by lead, and cold sweat had dampened her exam slip.  

When the results came out, she had barely scraped into City A’s top high school, placed in an average class.  

The three years of high school felt like an endless uphill climb. Clinging to her dream of getting into A University, she burned the midnight oil every day, her desk lamp glowing late into the night.  

Yet, as soon as class started during the day, drowsiness would overtake her. The teacher’s explanations of function graphs floated meaninglessly before her eyes.

She gnawed on her pen stubbornly, filling draft paper after draft paper, until she finally got into a decent university—though it fell short of her original goal.  

After graduation, with her father’s help in securing resources, she opened a clothing studio. The little dresses she designed slowly gained recognition.  

That day, as usual, she went to the downtown mall for market research.  

As an up-and-coming fashion designer, she made it a habit to visit weekly, keeping an eye on the latest trends.  

Her clothing brand, “Mò Yǔ,” had already gained some fame in the industry. Several of her signature Moonlight element dresses had not only been recommended by fashion bloggers but also sold over 100,000 units a month.  

Standing in the mall, she tilted her head to examine the new summer outfits on the mannequins in the display window, pondering whether to switch next season’s main color palette to mint green.  

Lost in thought, she stepped out of the mall. Sunlight streamed through the glass dome above, and she squinted, instinctively raising a hand to shield her eyes—  

*Thud!*  

A dark shadow descended like a gust of wind.  

In her last moments of consciousness, she caught the faint scent of jasmine—the perfume she had sprayed that morning.  

When she opened her eyes again, it was the summer of 2017.  

So death was this light.  

In the final flicker of her awareness, her mind was filled with the faces of her parents.  

Her mother loved pinching her cheeks and calling her “Little Jasmine,” while her father would lift her onto his shoulders to watch fireworks…  

They adored her so much. How heartbroken they would be, forced to bury their child.  

“What rotten luck…”  

Just when her life was finally looking up, just when “Mò Yǔ” was about to enter a bigger platform…  

The cicadas outside the window suddenly grew louder. Lin Yumo, barefoot, rushed to her desk, trembling fingers flipping open her diary.  

The latest page read: *[The high school entrance exams are over! No matter how I did, I’m sleeping for three days straight!]*  

A crooked smiley face was drawn beneath it.  

She burst into laughter, but soon tears rolled down her cheeks.  

So her fifteen-year-old self had been this adorable.  

Given a second chance, she wouldn’t repeat those mistakes—wouldn’t let a failed exam define her, wouldn’t stay up late just to chase after others.  

Just then, Wu Ma seemed to hear the commotion outside and knocked on the door with familiar warmth. “Is the young miss awake? Madam left a note, and breakfast is still warm. Remember to eat after washing up.”  

Only then did Lin Yumo realize she was still standing barefoot on the cold floor, a chill creeping up from her soles.  

She quickly tiptoed back to her bed and, sure enough, found a pale purple sticky note by her pillow.  

“Wu Ma, I’m awake! I’ll eat right away~” she replied instinctively in the sweet, soft tone of her fifteen-year-old self, the words lilted at the end like they were dipped in honey.  

Once Wu Ma’s footsteps faded, she looked down at the note in her hands.  

Her mother’s handwriting was neat and elegant, with a little jasmine doodled as a signature: *[Little Jasmine, breakfast is waiting for you. Don’t skip it—no empty stomachs. Mom and Dad are off to work.]*  

Such a simple reminder, yet it made her eyes burn again.  

She carefully tucked the note into her drawer, her fingertips brushing against a thick stack of papers—her test papers.  

Flipping through them absentmindedly, she suddenly froze.  

Tucked among the various subject exams was a sheet folded into a square.  

Unfolding it, she recognized it as the midterm report card she had crumpled and thrown away in her past life.  

“So it was already like this back then…” She gently traced the glaring “80” in the English column.

“This time, I must change…”