Chapter 7: Preparing for Military Training

Her slender fingers lightly traced the QR code for the class group printed on the admission letter, the glow of her moist eyes reflecting off her phone screen.

A crisp beep marked the successful scan. She held her breath, waiting for the chat to load.

The very first pinned announcement made her fingers pause—“Freshman Military Training: August 25th.”

Memories from her previous life’s training came flooding back—the burning sun reddening her skin, the peeling afterward, the awkward teasing from classmates…

Instinctively, Lin Yumo touched the jasmine blossom mark on her wrist, feeling the faint, almost imperceptible warmth there.

This time, she would be well prepared—buying extra sun protection.

Suddenly recalling something, she padded barefoot to the wardrobe, pulled out a soft measuring tape, and began carefully taking her measurements.

Under the light, the jasmine tattoo on her wrist gleamed faintly. Over the past month, the subtle changes in her figure had made each measuring session something she looked forward to.

“Height: 166… weight…” she murmured, jotting it down on paper, only to notice that her waistline was two centimeters slimmer than at the same time in her previous life—and her bust slightly fuller.

The discovery made the tips of her ears turn pink, but she still dutifully recorded it.

Just then, a new message popped up in the class group—it was from the homeroom teacher, with a size chart for the military training uniforms.

Biting her pen cap, Lin Yumo carefully compared sizes, hesitating between “165/88A” and “170/88A.”

She was already 166 cm, and with a month until training, she’d likely grow taller.

“This one,” she decided, neatly writing “170/88A” on the registration form.

Thinking about wearing a perfectly fitted training uniform, reuniting with classmates, and reliving the high school military training experience made her feel a flicker of excitement.

She went back to her desk, opened her calendar, and circled August 20th with a soft pink highlighter. That was the day parents would pay fees and collect uniforms—students didn’t need to attend.

Her fingertip slid down the page to August 25th, where she drew a tiny sun.

That would be the start of military training.

Her phone chimed, pulling her attention back. Opening it, she found the group chat buzzing—some were sharing checklists of training essentials, others were swapping sun-protection tips.

Silently, she scrolled through, saving anything useful and mentally noting what she needed to prepare.

When her gaze returned to the notice and saw “Military Parade on the morning of September 10th,” she could almost picture herself standing tall on the parade ground.

Her eyes shifted to September 11th—the official start of the school year. Her fingertips curled slightly.

This was the starting point for making up the regrets of her last life, and the beginning of a brand-new chapter.

On the calendar, she drew a small red flower beside the words “First Day of School,” her handwriting neat and resolute.

The night breeze drifted in. Closing her phone, Lin Yumo looked up at the dark sky outside the window, her lips curling faintly.

This time, she wouldn’t miss a single view along the way.

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The next morning, sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains into her bedroom. Lin Yumo was already standing before the full-length mirror in her walk-in closet.

Her fingertips skimmed over a row of clothes before finally picking a white drapey T-shirt. The soft fabric slid against her skin, outlining the budding curves of her young figure.

She draped a gray color-block shawl casually over her shoulders, gathering the collar lightly with her fingers. In the mirror, her slender neckline and delicate collarbones were perfectly framed.

On her lower half, she wore a neatly tailored gray skirt, the hem swaying slightly with her movements, revealing a pair of smooth, jade-like legs.

Finally, she slipped on a pair of white chunky sneakers and twirled once in front of the mirror, her long black hair glinting with a soft luster in the morning light.

“Uncle Wang, to Henglong.”
Lin Yumo picked up the red leather backpack, the supple sheepskin warm and smooth against her palm.

Outside the car window, shadows of plane trees flickered across her calm brows. Her fingertips slid lightly over her phone screen, searching military training sunscreen on social media. Under the search term, reviews of various luxury sunscreens shimmered on the screen.

She frowned slightly, ticking the filters for “waterproof,” “sweat-proof,” and “SPF 50+” one by one.

In her notes, the shopping list began to take shape: cooling masks for after-sun repair, a foldable silicone water cup, imported Japanese invisible bandages.

When a promoted post for an outrageously expensive beauty serum popped up, the corners of her lips curved knowingly—
The jasmine mark on her wrist was faintly warm, far more adept at shaping this young body than any skincare product could be.

Suddenly, she thought of something and added 30 ml spray bottle to the end of the list.

With her “golden finger” in this life, she could maximize its potential—spraying jasmine essential oil might work even better than sunscreen. Still, since she hadn’t tested it, she would buy regular sunscreen too, for double protection.

The glass façade of Henglong Plaza reflected the blazing summer sunlight. Lin Yumo paused briefly before the automatic doors, the burst of air-conditioning carrying with it the signature fragrance of luxury counters.

Her fingers unconsciously brushed the jasmine mark on her wrist as she headed toward the cosmetics section on the first floor.

“Miss, are you looking for sunscreen products?”
A sharp-eyed beauty advisor at a luxury counter had spotted this unusually elegant girl.

Lin Yumo nodded lightly, her gaze sweeping over the metallic sheen of the sunscreen tubes.
“I want the most waterproof one.”

When she accepted the tester, the BA suddenly exclaimed,
“Your skin is beautiful—like mutton-fat jade.”

Her lashes trembled slightly as she recalled how, in her previous life, BAs at this same counter had only ever recommended concealers to her.

Now, she merely dabbed the tester on her wrist. The cool texture spread automatically into a transparent film.

The fragrance area was filled with a subtle, lingering scent as Lin Yumo walked slowly through, her eyes drifting over the dazzling array of products.

At last, she picked up a matte frosted mini spray bottle.

The saleswoman approached warmly.
“Miss, our citrus essential oil is the most popular—refreshing and uplifting.”

Lin Yumo shook her head gently, her eyes calm as she pointed toward a corner.
“I’ll take more of that jasmine essential oil.”

“Certainly, miss. Judging by your age and your purchases, I’d guess you’re preparing for military training?
We also have an excellent facial cleanser—would you like one?”

The BA kept her professional smile.

Lin Yumo lifted her gaze, returning a warm smile.
“Yes, I’ll take two.”

In the pharmacy around the corner, she picked up three boxes of freeze-dried masks.

Passing the beauty section again, a salesperson eagerly promoted new arrivals, but she stopped at the basic hydration shelves instead.
“For young skin, simple is best.”

On the basement level’s boutique supermarket, she added a foldable water cup to her basket.

Pausing by the refrigerated section, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass—her waistline was even slimmer than it had been last week.

When she stepped out of the mall with her shopping bags, the midsummer sunlight slanted across her shoulders.

She instinctively raised a hand to shield herself—only to notice that, under the sunlight, her skin glowed with a pearly radiance, without the slightest hint of redness.

“Uncle Wang, let’s go home.”
She slid into the car, setting the shopping bags beside her, and the engine started with a quiet hum.