"Some students have reported that you are frequently in contact with people from outside the school, which reflects poorly on us."

My fingers tightened.

Caspian.

Or rather, Sloane.

They struck faster than I had imagined.

Lucas said deeply, "Those aren't people from outside the school; it was a student from this school."

The director smiled: "Whether they are a student isn't the point; the impact is what matters. The school needs to be more cautious regarding your recommendations."

Mr. Sterling’s expression was grim, but he couldn't openly fight for us, only saying subtly: "Go back for now. Keep a low profile and don't cause any more trouble."

Leaving the office, I stood in the hallway with a heavy chest.

Lucas clenched his fists, the veins on his forehead bulging slightly.

"They did this on purpose."

"Yes."

"What do we do now?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself down.

"There's still a chance."

Lucas looked at me.

I reached out and smoothed the hem of my uniform, which I had crumpled in my nervousness.

"Since the recommendation path is being blocked, we'll take a more public route."

"Grades, rankings, evaluations, competitions—if we perform brilliantly enough in these areas, they won't be able to interfere so easily in the open."

"And—"

I paused. "We have to change where we live first."

If we were followed once, there would be a second time.

As long as they knew where we lived, we were out in the open.

Lucas nodded: "I'll take the afternoon off to look at places."

"No, that's too deliberate," I shook my head. "Wait until the weekend. For now, stay steady."

After saying this, I suddenly remembered something and hurried back to the classroom to check my phone.

Sure enough, ten minutes ago, a new email had arrived.

The sender was an exchange program team from a top high school in another province.

My heart gave a violent throb.

This was the exchange program I had originally been selected for in my past life.

Because of the issues with tuition and living costs later on, I never made it. And when everything went out of control after that, there was no follow-up.

But now, the notification letter had been sent early.

I quickly clicked on it. When my eyes landed on the most critical line, my breath almost stopped—

[This exchange program provides partial scholarships and housing subsidies; the final list will be determined by comprehensive test results.]

This was a new path.

Not one dependent on anyone, nor waiting for the school's charity, but a path I could take through my own efforts.

More importantly, if I could secure this spot, I could leave this city for a short time and move out of their sight.

I stared at the screen, my fingertips trembling.

Maybe this was the first brick I could use to break the deadlock.

11

During lunch, I showed the email to Lucas.

The cafeteria was noisy, with the clattering of trays and the laughter of students, but between Lucas and me, a small pocket of silence seemed to exist.

After reading the email, he didn't speak for a long time.

Finally, he asked in a low voice: "Do you want to go?"

I looked up at him.

Actually, I had asked myself the same question.

In my past life, I was truly happy when I was selected. It was the first time I felt that being poor didn't mean there was never a bigger world out there; that someone like me could get a ticket to move forward through grades and hard work.

But later, that ticket became the reason Sloane and Caspian targeted me.

They thought it was laughable that a girl so poor she couldn't afford tuition would dream of an exchange program abroad. It was from then on that Caspian focused more of his attention on me.

In my past life, I thought this was the start of the disaster.

But now I suddenly realized—

The opportunity wasn't wrong; it was my lack of ability to protect myself in my previous life.

In this life, I couldn't let fear stop me from even touching the opportunity.

So I nodded: "Yes."

Lucas’s hand holding the chopsticks paused.

"Then go."

I was stunned for a moment.

"You aren't worried?"

"I am," he said honestly. "But worrying is useless."

He looked at me, his dark eyes quiet and serious.

"If this is the path you want to take, I won't stop you."

"I will only find a way to make sure you walk it more steadily."

My nose suddenly felt a bit prickly.

Sometimes I really felt that Lucas was too clumsy in his kindness, too stubborn.

He never said sweet things, but he always put my choices first at the most critical moments.

I lowered my head to eat a mouthful of rice and muttered, "Stop being so good to me."

He seemed to smile slightly, his voice very soft: "Then just do your best."

I nodded.

"I will."

After the first period in the afternoon, Mr. Sterling called me out alone.

He handed me a printed notice for the exchange project, his expression complex.

"This spot was originally decided based on grades and comprehensive performance. You have always been under consideration."

"But you know, recently—"

He stopped there, as if unable to continue.

I spoke up first: "Sir, is someone trying to stop me from going?"

Mr. Sterling looked at me and sighed.

"There are things I can't say openly."

"But I can tell you that whether you can go ultimately depends on whether you can widen the gap in your test scores."

"If you just barely pass the line, it's easy for others to push you out with a little effort."

"But if you are ahead by a significant margin, it’s not easy for just anyone in the school to move you."

I understood.

This was the biggest hint he could give me.

"I understand, sir."

"Also," Mr. Sterling lowered his voice, "both you and Lucas stay steady recently. Especially the matter of living off-campus—don't let anyone catch you out."

My heart stirred.

He had likely seen something but didn't point it out.

I nodded earnestly: "Thank you, sir."

On the way back to the classroom, I took every step slowly.

There was still fog ahead, but at least it was no longer a completely black dead end.

After school, Lucas and I didn't head back together.

It wasn't for any other reason than that I saw Sloane at the school gate.

She was standing by that familiar white sedan, wearing a short skirt with her hair beautifully curled, holding a cup of milk tea as if waiting for someone.

But the moment she saw me, her smile faded.

"You go first," I whispered to Lucas.

Lucas’s brow was tightly knit: "No."

"She's looking for you, not me," I said quickly. "You being here will only encourage her."

Lucas didn't move.

Sloane had already started walking toward us in her high-heeled leather shoes.

"What, afraid I'll eat her?"

She tilted her head at Lucas, her tone carrying a blatant mockery. "Lucas, you really take her too seriously."

Lucas looked at her coldly: "Stay away from her."

"Then come with me," Sloane said flippantly. "If you come with me, of course I won't touch her."

My heart sank.

She was indeed here for Lucas today.

And she no longer planned to pretend to have a good temper.

Lucas’s eyes were freezing: "I told you, it's impossible."

The smile on Sloane’s face finally broke.

She stared at Lucas, and after a few seconds, slowly turned toward me.

"You know what? What I hate most isn't actually you clinging to him."

"It's the fact that you clearly can't give him anything, yet you always make him put on this 'dignified' front for your sake."

She didn't speak fast, but every word felt soaked in malice.

"Do you poor people really love using 'feelings' as a fig leaf?"

"Clearly your lives are a mess, yet you pretend like you don't care about anything."

There were many people coming and going at the school gate, and some were already slowing down to watch.

I knew she was doing this on purpose.

She wanted to make a scene, to embarrass Lucas in public, and to make me unable to hold my head up.

She was like this in my past life too.

When she was unhappy, she never suffered alone; she would do everything possible to make others suffer more.

I slowly gripped my backpack strap and met her gaze.

"You're right, we are indeed poor."

"But being poor isn't a crime."

"Making others' hardships the capital for your insults—that is your problem."

Sloane seemed surprised that I dared to talk back and let out a cold laugh.

"You certainly have a way with words."

"Then tell me, besides being a burden to him, what else can you do?"

That sentence stung like a needle.

Because the me of my past life had indeed thought that about myself countless times.