But in the end, he only looked at me and said something ambiguous:

"Lynn, you’d better stay this clear-headed forever."

With that, he turned, got into his car, and drove away.

After the car disappeared into the distance, Lucas looked at me. "Do you believe him?"

"Half of it."

"Which half?"

"That Sloane is being suppressed by her family is likely true." I paused. "But as for why he told me, it wasn't just out of boredom."

Lucas's brow furrowed even deeper.

"He’s been acting strange lately."

I gave a bitter smile. "When has he ever acted normal?"

It was just that the Caspian of my past life didn't bother to revolve around me this frequently, at least not in the beginning.

In this life, perhaps because I didn't get driven into a dead end step by step—because I've been resisting and escaping—I’ve become "more interesting" in his eyes.

Thinking of this, the bit of relief I felt vanished.

If Sloane were truly sent away, half of the primary threat would be gone.

But the other half—Caspian—had not disappeared.

In fact, he might become even more difficult to deal with.

Two days later, the final list for the exchange project was released.

I saw my name on the notice board at the Academic Affairs Office.

The list was printed formally, black ink on white paper, sorted by score.

My name was near the top of the first column.

In that instant, all the noise around me vanished. I felt as if my chest had been kicked open; a surge of heat rushed through me, leaving even my fingertips tingling.

I made it.

It wasn't a borderline pass, and it wasn't a fluke.

After so much obstruction, humiliation, rumors, and testing, I had made it entirely on my own merit.

Someone behind me exclaimed, "Lynn, you got in!"

"And with such a high rank!"

"Heavens, that’s amazing..."

I snapped back to reality, my eyes already growing warm.

Lucas walked up from behind and stood at my side, following my gaze to the list.

He didn't say a word.

But I saw his hand hanging by his side slowly clench into a fist and then slowly release, as if he were finally exhaling a breath he had been holding for a very long time.

After a few seconds, he said in a low voice:

"Congratulations."

I turned to look at him, my nose stinging, and suddenly laughed.

"Lucas, I did it."

"Yeah," he smiled too. "You did it."

Other classmates nearby were watching the commotion and gossiping, saying how all those rumors turned out to be false.

But those voices felt very far away at that moment.

I only felt that the sunlight was very bright, and the wind on my face carried a hint of burning warmth.

It felt like I had finally broken a lock that had been coiled around me for two lifetimes.

19

But securing the spot didn't mean everything was over.

On the contrary, the real challenges were yet to come—

The paperwork before departure, the subsidy audits, visa documents, pre-departure training, and most realistically, the living expenses.

Although the exchange project provided some scholarships and housing subsidies, it wasn't all-inclusive. Adding the costs for a passport, document translations, medical exams, and various small fees, it still added up to a significant expense.

Returning to my place that night, I went through the project manual item by item. My mood slowly settled from the initial excitement back into reality.

Lucas sat opposite me and looked over the expense list I had drafted.

"How much are we short?"

I bit my lip. "If I count all the money I have on hand right now, we’re still short about three thousand."

Three thousand.

In the eyes of someone like Sloane, that might just be the cost of a bag ornament or a single meal—it might not even buy her a pair of shoes.

But to the me of now, it was a very real wall.

Lucas was silent for a moment, then said, "I'll go pick up a few more part-time jobs."

"No," I rejected him almost immediately. "You’re already sleeping so little. If you take on more jobs, your body won't hold up."

"I can't just watch you miss out over this much money."

"I'll find a way."

"What way can you find?" Lucas frowned. "Lynn, this isn't the time to be stubborn."

I looked at him, feeling a mix of helplessness and heartache.

He was always like this.

Whenever it came to a crisis like this, his first instinct was to throw himself out as a shield.

I said softly, "Don't forget, I still have one more chance."

"What?"

"The school's supplemental application for students in financial hardship." I pointed to the manual. "If I’ve already been confirmed for the project, both the school and the project group might provide a bit of extra support. Didn't the teacher say before that they would help coordinate?"

Lucas was still frowning. "But that might not come in time."

"Then we prepare for both," I said. "You can take some short-term work, but you can't push yourself too hard. I'll also go talk to the teacher again to see if there’s any temporary aid or alumni funding."

His expression finally softened a bit after hearing that.

"Fine."

I knew that "fine" was the biggest concession he could make.

The next day at noon, I went to see Mr. Sterling.

After hearing about the funding gap, he was silent for a long time before sighing. "You poor child, you've made it in and you still don't dare to breathe."

I gave an embarrassed smile.

"Sir, I just want to try and solve it myself as much as possible."

"You've already solved enough," he said, pulling two forms from his drawer. "This one is the school’s temporary aid application, and the other is a special scholarship established by alumni. Fill out the materials, and I’ll submit them for you."

I took the forms, and the stone hanging in my heart finally lightened.

"Thank you, sir."

"Stop saying thank you." He pushed up his glasses, his expression serious. "Being able to go out there is something you earned."

Leaving the office with those two forms in hand, for the first time, I felt a genuine realization—

Not every path has to be hacked open entirely by yourself.

When you work hard enough to move forward, sometimes, someone really is willing to give you a hand.

That evening, I told Lucas the news.

He was clearly much more relaxed after hearing it.

"So the gap should be covered?"

"If things go smoothly, more or less."

"That’s good."

I smiled and lowered my head to pack my materials.

But right then, my phone vibrated again.

It was an MMS from an unknown number.

The moment I saw the thumbnail, my breath stopped.

It was a photo of Lucas.

Not at school.

It was in the alley near our new place.

The photo was taken from a distance, looking like a stalker shot. Lucas was walking inside carrying two bags of groceries, his back thin and straight, surrounded by the yellowish twilight lights and tangled power lines.

Immediately after, a second text popped up:

[Moving was useless.]

[Did you two really think you were hidden well?]

My hand shook, and the phone nearly fell to the ground.

Lucas noticed immediately. "What's wrong?"

I handed him the phone, my entire body turning cold.

After Lucas finished reading, his face became extremely grim.

"Dammit."

That was the first time I had heard him swear so harshly.

He wouldn't be like this unless he was beyond furious.

My mind was a mess.

Moving, taking detours, avoiding being followed, changing residences... I thought I had at least bought some breathing room, but reality was mocking my naivety.

Caspian's people had found us anyway.

They even deliberately took a photo and sent it to me.

It wasn't to actually do anything yet, but to tell me: You can't escape. I can find you whenever I want.

This was more suffocating than a direct threat.

Because it was bit by bit crushing the sense of security I had worked so hard to build.

I forced myself to calm down. "Call the police."

"Yes, immediately."

Lucas picked up his phone, but just as he was about to dial, I suddenly pressed down on his hand.

"Wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Don't alert them just yet." My voice was a bit hoarse. "This evidence is clearer than last time. Stalking, following, threatening texts... I want to make the case airtight all at once."

Lucas's brow was knit tight.

I took a deep breath. "Besides, I suspect the person sending the texts might not be Caspian himself."

"What do you mean?"

"He’s vicious and crazy, but he usually does things too openly." I stared at the photo. "This feels more like someone using his shadow to scare me."

"It's either someone around him, or Sloane's side hasn't given up yet."