My best friend hid her identity as a billionaire heiress and told me, "For ordinary people like us, no matter how hard we try, we can never cross the class divide." She pushed me to smoke, skip class, get into fights, date losers, and even worse... After graduation, I hit a dead end everywhere I went. I ended up dragging my sick, broken body into a factory for minimum wage, unable to even scrape together enough money for my daughter’s life-saving medicine. She, on the other hand, seamlessly took over her family's empire, becoming a celebrated, untouchable CEO, marrying her perfect match, and living a flawless life. At my absolute lowest, I begged her to lend me fifty bucks just to buy a box of painkillers. She laughed so hard she practically doubled over. "I told you a long time ago, Sarah. Ordinary people like you are bottom-tier trash, generation after generation. "You’re a nobody. You have to accept your fate." But... was that really my fate? Later, the factory exploded. I was buried in a sea of flames, dying with a heart full of agonizing regret and hatred. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of high school. 01 Following a deafening blast, a rolling wave of heat crashed over me. I was huddled in the corner of the factory floor, staring in absolute despair as the wall of fire rapidly closed in. There was nowhere to run. I was going to burn alive. I squeezed my eyes shut, but when I opened them again, I felt the cool, crisp breeze of late summer. Outside the window, cicadas were humming. On the desk in front of me, tucked inside my faded, worn-out pencil case, was a crumpled piece of paper. On it, written in deliberate strokes, were the words: Fate is in my own hands. I had returned to when I was fifteen years old. The first day of high school. The timelines overlapped in my mind, and the phantom, agonizing pain of being consumed by fire still lingered. I broke out in a cold sweat. Suddenly, I heard a timid voice beside me. "Excuse me... are you... are you Sarah Jenkins?" I looked up and saw the fifteen-year-old Chloe Sterling. Right now, she was wearing a faded, hand-me-down hoodie, carrying a backpack that was frayed at the edges. She looked at me with a face full of shy admiration. It was a staggering contrast to the Chloe I saw at the end of my past life—dripping in designer brands, her makeup flawless, looking down at me from her high-rise office like I was an insect. My memories of her in my past life were too agonizing. Beneath the desk, I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I steadied my breathing. "Yes, I am." "It really is you! I... I'm so lucky. I can't believe I'm in the same class as the famous valedictorian from Southside Middle School. "You look exactly like you did in the local paper—smart and pretty. A lot of the guys at my old school had a crush on you." She sounded just as excited as she did the first time we met in my previous life. But this time, I caught the fleeting, malicious sneer hidden deep in her crescent-moon eyes. Of course. In both my past life and this one, in her eyes, I was nothing but a "bottom-tier peasant." I was the prey she had selected long ago to play with and destroy. And my crossing paths with her wasn't her "luck," as she claimed. It was entirely the handiwork of her powerful, elite mother. The scene of my final meeting with her in my past life flashed before my eyes again. Back then, my little girl was critically ill. The doctors shook their heads and said there was nothing more they could do, advising me to just buy some strong painkillers to ease her suffering. But my abusive husband and my mother-in-law refused to spare even fifty dollars. They said since she wasn't a boy, it was better if she just died. Desperate, I went to Chloe. She sat in her luxurious corner office on the top floor of the Financial District, looking down at the destitute, broken version of me, laughing uncontrollably. "Sarah, I told you a long time ago. Ordinary people like you are bottom-tier trash, generation after generation. "Your parents are, you are, and naturally, your daughter is too. "You’re a nobody. You have to accept your fate." It was only then that I learned the truth from her own mouth. "Idiot! Did you really think I wanted to be besties with you? "If my mom wasn't in the middle of a critical corporate promotion, do you think she would have pulled me out of my elite private prep school and sent me to that dump of a public high school? "I didn't want to go at first either, but my mom said, 'Sweetheart, let's play a game, okay?' "She told me she's loved this game since she was young. It’s called—'Destroying the Life of an Ordinary Person.'" She smiled and leaned across her mahogany desk. "My mom said that an ordinary person who can't handle temptation is incredibly easy to break. They’ll fall step by step, all the way down into a bottomless hell, until it's too late for regrets. "I thought the game sounded fun, so I immediately picked out my target. "...It was you. The straight-A, beautiful scholarship kid clawing her way out of the slums." She stood up, her gaze raking over me from head to toe. My utter ruin and misery were on full display. "Looking at you now, I’d say I won!" That day, I left her corporate tower a hollow shell of a human being. My mind spun, endlessly replaying my twenty-three years of life, watching myself plummet into the abyss. I thought of all those brilliant, shining dreams I once had, dreams that were never realized. I broke down crying on the bustling streets of downtown Boston. But there is no medicine in this world to cure regret. Three days later, my sweet, understanding little girl closed her eyes in agony for the last time. Shortly after, the factory exploded, and I burned to ashes. ... I bit my lip hard, feeling the tidal wave of pure hatred surging in my chest. Since I've been given a second chance at life. This time, I will rewrite the narrative. I will keep my destiny firmly in my own grip. And I will make those who deceived me, manipulated me, and ruined me pay a devastating price. ... Right now, Chloe was lowering her head. "Sarah, the truth is, I come from a really poor family just like you. I don't have any friends at this school..." Her voice trembled slightly. "Maybe... could I be your friend?" There were a few seconds of dead silence. I quietly raised my eyes to look at her. Then, I flashed her a brilliant, welcoming smile. "Of course you can. "Welcome to my world... Chloe Sterling." 02 Chloe became my desk mate. She studied diligently, treated everyone kindly, and acted so sweet and innocent that no one had their guard up around her. During recess, she would vividly recount to me how she took care of her paralyzed mother in bed, how she endured her chronically alcoholic, gambling father, and how she worked grueling shifts at a diner under the scorching summer sun just to save up for her own tuition. When she reached the emotional climax of her story, she would bury her face in her arms on the desk and sob, her shoulders shaking violently. Then, with tear-blurred eyes, she would ask me, "Sarah, I read your interview in the paper. All these years, things must have been incredibly hard for you too, right?" I watched her put on her little show with icy detachment. In my past life, I fell for this hook, line, and sinker. I bared my soul to her, treated her with absolute sincerity, and never doubted her for a second. I even took the fall for her crimes, leaving a permanent criminal stain on my permanent record. Thinking back on it, I was remarkably stupid. Right now, she was biting her lip. "Where a person is born dictates everything. Does all our hard work even mean anything...?" "Yeah, you're right," I interrupted her, stealing her lines. "For ordinary people like us, no matter how hard we try, we can never cross the class divide." A look of genuine shock flickered across Chloe’s tear-stained face. She probably didn't expect my mindset to crumble this easily. In my past life, whenever she asked me this, I would always answer with fierce conviction: "It's hard, and life is tough, but I still have hope. "I believe I can change my destiny through hard work. "Hope and effort are the best things in this world. "Chloe, you have to hold onto hope and keep working hard. That’s the only way to keep moving forward." It took her a long time and a lot of meticulous plotting to gradually break down my psychological defenses. Like the time she used the excuse of "handing out flyers" to drag me—while I was stressing over where my next month's $150 of grocery money would come from—to the gates of an elite private school. She made me watch the trust-fund kids who were born with silver spoons in their mouths, living in luxury, entirely ignorant of the world's suffering. Like the time when I was studying day and night for the State Math Olympiad, and she "accidentally" let it slip that even though my grades were the best, the spot for the competition had already been rigged and given to the principal's niece. Like when I slowly started to break down and doubt if I could really change my fate, she shared stories with me of straight-A kids from small towns who got into Ivy League schools, only to graduate and end up working dead-end, soul-crushing corporate jobs, exhausted and miserable. Like when I was entirely disillusioned and felt my life was hopeless, she repeatedly egged me on to skip class, get blackout drunk at bars, and then... In the trap she so carefully laid out, I slid into the abyss step by step. She was a very patient predator. But I decided to "help" her along this time. "Since working hard is useless anyway," I said, closing my textbook. "We're done studying for the day. "Come on, Chloe. I'm taking you somewhere fun." "Huh?" 03 When we were in the club, drinking and dancing wildly to the heavy bass. Chloe looked genuinely terrified. It wasn't an act. A pampered little princess like her had truly never set foot in a grimy, chaotic place like this. In my past life, when she eventually brought me here, she had made ironclad preparations. She had someone clear out all the dangerous individuals beforehand and planted bodyguards all around us before she dared to step inside with me. "Chloe, don't just stand there! Come party!" Armed with the clubbing experience from my past life, I expertly popped open a bottle of high-proof liquor and, before she could protest, forced her to chug several gulps. "Drink up, Chloe! A good buzz cures everything!" She choked, unable to speak, her eyes wide with panic. I took the opportunity to "accidentally" bump into her. She stumbled forward and crashed right into the chest of a sweaty, sleazy older guy. "Ah! What are you doing! Don't touch me! "If you touch me again—I'll have my mom ruin you—let go! "Do you know who my mom is? She's—" Her words died in her throat as her eyes met mine. Even in this situation, she chose to hide her identity. She was dead set on finishing her game of "ruining my life." I laughed coldly in my heart. I pretended to step forward to protect her, but "clumsily" shoved her even closer to the sleazy guy. I clearly remembered that in my past life, this was exactly how she pushed me toward a man riddled with incurable diseases, and then... I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. Eventually, the sleaze got bored, muttered, "Dammit, she's flatter than a board," and turned away. Chloe's eyes were full of humiliation. Her rims were red, and her lip was bleeding—I didn't know if the guy bit her or if she bit it herself in panic. "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I didn't protect you." I pretended to cry in a panic. "Let's call the cops! The police will definitely—" "Absolutely no cops!" She cut me off instantly. "Why? That was basically assault!" I played dumb. I knew exactly why. Because her mother, Victoria Sterling, was a major power player in Boston. She was currently in the middle of a massive corporate acquisition and couldn't afford even a whisper of negative PR. And her father, Richard Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Enterprises, didn't give a damn about Chloe or her mother. He was busy keeping a mistress—his first love—and an illegitimate daughter on the side. The mistress and the illegitimate daughter were watching the Sterling empire like hawks. If rumors of Chloe being involved in a sordid nightclub scandal leaked, her ruthless father would absolutely abandon her and pivot to grooming his favored illegitimate daughter instead. So she didn't dare. She could only swallow the humiliation. "I... I don't have any money or power. I'm scared he'll come after me." "Oh... I guess you're right..." I nodded helplessly, then shook my head vigorously. "Then let's never come back to a place like this again. I had no idea it was so dangerous." "No, no, no! This was just a fluke!" She grew even more frantic, terrified that this would traumatize me and I wouldn't return to this den of vice. "Besides, didn't we come here to have fun? I had a great time! We should definitely come back!" "Really?" I acted worried. "Of course! Look at me—" She forced a smile brighter than the sun, purposefully swaying her hips to brush against random guys, even hiking her short skirt up dangerously high. "Sarah, you should come have fun too!" She was enthusiastically inviting me to join in. Little did she know, every single move she made was being watched by someone standing not too far away. His face was a mask of absolute disgust. And I had known from the very beginning that he would be here tonight. 04 By the time Chloe crawled back through the school gates, reeking of cheap alcohol, it was past midnight. She was utterly humiliated and exhausted. I could hear her stifled sobbing from the top bunk. But I felt absolutely nothing. Once the top bunk finally fell silent, I quietly got out of bed, grabbed my textbook and pen, and headed up to the dormitory roof. Here, I was closest to the bright, silver moonlight. Under the glow of the moon, I reviewed the day's math lessons. Everything was quiet, save for the gentle summer breeze. Having lived through the displaced, horrific misery of my past life, just having the chance to hold a book and study made me feel unspeakably blessed. The wind brushed against my face. I pulled that crumpled piece of paper from my pencil case. Fate is in my own hands. I unfolded it gently. On the back, written by my ten-year-old self, were my dreams. [Get into Harvard.] [Take Mom away from this dead-end town.] I will make them come true. Hope and hard work are the greatest things in this world. 05 When Chloe finally woke up, it was already 11:00 AM. It was Saturday morning, so sleeping in was normal. The teachers hadn't noticed anything off about us. She groaned, hungover and nursing a splitting headache, and got up to pour a glass of water. I proactively handed her a cup of warm water and casually mentioned, "Wow! It's already the 10th. Time flies." She froze mid-sip, sobering up instantly. "What day did you say it is?" I smiled. "The 10th." "The 10th!" She snatched my phone, checked the date, then the time, muttering, "I'm dead. I am so dead." Still wearing the alcohol-stained mini-skirt from last night and unmatched flip-flops, she bolted out of the dorm. I admired her frantic, pathetic retreat for a moment. Once she was completely out of sight, I calmly sat back down, smiled, and opened my math book. August 10th. For her, it was indeed a day of critical importance. She had forgotten in her drunken stupor, but I hadn't. On this exact day in my past life, Arthur Sterling, the patriarch of the Sterling family, flew back from his retirement estate in Europe. On paper, he was just visiting his children and grandchildren. In reality, everyone knew he was evaluating the heirs. Because the person who truly held the power in the Sterling family wasn't Chloe's father, but Grandpa Arthur. Chloe and her mother had been preparing for this day for months. Wardrobe, etiquette, smiles, posture—they had even meticulously rehearsed her dialogue, determined to impress the old man. But right now, Chloe had vomit crusted in her hair, reeked of cheap liquor, wore an indecent skirt, mismatched sandals, and had breath that could strip paint... sprinting straight toward the Sterling family luncheon. It was going to be a spectacular show. I checked the time and sent a pre-drafted message: [Mia Sterling, are you ready?] The reply came instantly: [Ready. Thank you.] Forty minutes later, the highly anticipated Sterling family luncheon, hosted at the city's most luxurious hotel, went live on a local news stream. "5... 4... 3... 2... 1... "Welcome, viewers, to the live coverage of the most high-profile private gathering of the Sterling family in the past decade. "Sources confirm that Arthur Sterling arrived at the venue at 10:00 AM this morning and has been enjoying intimate conversations with the younger generation—" Before the reporter could finish, a shrill scream cut through the broadcast: "Why won't you let me in! I am the CEO's legitimate daughter—" The camera immediately whipped toward the commotion. I watched Chloe's furious back as she tried to physically ram her way into the banquet hall. The security guards at the door looked at her outfit with blatant disgust. "Miss Sterling has been inside keeping Mr. Sterling company all morning. Miss, if you keep making a scene, we will call the cops." "What?" Chloe was stunned for a few seconds before her rage boiled over. "That's impossible! The Sterling family only has one daughter—" Her screaming abruptly ceased as the grand doors of the banquet hall slowly opened. "What is all this racket?" A commanding male voice echoed out. It was Chloe's father, Richard Sterling. "Chloe..." He froze for a fraction of a second. Once he recognized his own daughter, his face turned black with rage. "Why are you so late? And what the hell are you wearing!" "Dad..." Chloe’s voice cracked with tears. She tried to push past the bewildered security guards to grab her father's arm. He ruthlessly threw her off. Richard glanced at the live cameras, clearly suppressing volcanic anger. "Is this how your mother raised you? "Get the hell out of here! What are you standing around for? You're a total embarrassment!" "Dad, I just want to see Grandpa—" Chloe's tears started streaming down her face. "Before your grandfather sees you looking like a streetwalker, get out—" "Who wants to see me?" A kind, laughing voice interrupted. A young woman, supporting an elderly man with silver hair, slowly walked out. It was Grandpa Arthur. "Grandpa—" Chloe looked at him like a savior and bypassed her father, but the moment she clearly saw the girl next to him, she lost her mind. Her voice spiked into a screech. "Mia? Why are you here?" "Sister, I'm here to see Grandpa, just like you." Mia was dressed in an elegant, tailored vintage dress, her sleek black hair tucked neatly behind her ears. She looked poised, dignified, and smiled warmly. "You're a bastard child! You have no right—" "Ahem." Grandpa Arthur cut her off. He was still smiling kindly, but his ancient, calculating eyes swept over Chloe, taking in every detail without a shift in expression. "Chloe, is it? "Last time I saw you, you were just a little girl. Look how much you've grown." "Grandpa, it's me. I haven't seen you in over ten years." Chloe took a step forward. Grandpa Arthur kept his smile but subtly took a half-step back to avoid her. He turned to a middle-aged woman in a silk suit standing on the periphery. "Victoria, take Chloe to go change and clean up. I know this is a family luncheon, but dressing like this isn't quite appropriate, wouldn't you agree? "I know you're busy with your career, but you can't neglect your child's upbringing and education." "I am so sorry, Dad. I'll take her to change immediately... Chloe is usually very obedient and has wonderful manners. It's my fault, I've been too busy lately to keep a proper eye on her..." Victoria wanted her daughter to shine today, never expecting her to spectacularly self-destruct at the most critical moment. Her smile was strained, failing to mask her sheer panic and embarrassment. Grandpa Arthur merely chuckled, noncommittal, and turned back to Mia. "Let's go, Mia. Tell Grandpa more about your internship experiences at the corporate level this summer." "Yes, Grandpa." The group turned and walked back into the hall. As Richard turned, he shot a look at his secretary. Two seconds later, the live broadcast was cut. A few minutes after that, the embarrassing video of the Sterling family luncheon and all related comments quietly vanished from the internet. Naturally, every photo of Chloe was wiped perfectly clean. That night, every major financial outlet ran the exact same headline: [Patriarch of the Sterling Empire Returns: Heir Apparent Selected.] The accompanying photo was a high-definition shot of Grandpa Arthur and Mia standing at the entrance of the banquet hall, chatting intimately—a picture-perfect image of family harmony. 06 When Chloe finally came back to the dorm, her eyes were severely swollen. She crawled into bed without a word. She was still wearing that chaotic mini-skirt. She hadn't changed, and she hadn't washed her hair. I knew then that she hadn't been allowed back into the banquet. I quietly finished the practice exam in my hands. Chloe had absolutely no energy to bother with a "bottom-tier peasant" like me tonight. Her phone started buzzing. "Mom, leave me alone, okay? Are you going to keep screaming at me? "Do you think I wanted to look like that? It's all because—" She shot a look at me and stopped herself. "Skip the lecture. Just tell me how we fix this— "What? Really? "I'm coming right now." She practically vaulted out of bed, shot me a wary glare, and hurried out of the dorm room. I silently followed her. In the deserted stairwell, her voice grew loud and arrogant again: "Yes! Yes! The Harringtons will definitely back me up! Chase and I have been engaged since we were kids. They won't just stand by and watch me lose my inheritance. "This is perfect. If the Harrington family speaks up, the old man can't refuse! "I'll be on my best behavior. I swear I won't let that bastard Mia steal the spotlight again. "Thanks, Mom! Love you so much! "Uh huh. Don't worry, Mom. "..." Victoria Sterling obviously wasn't going to just sit around and wait for death. Richard wasn't going to help them. In fact, he had been waiting for this exact opportunity. In my past life, after learning the truth, I frantically searched the internet for any information about Chloe and her family. I found a lot of buried gossip. When Richard was young, the woman he truly loved was Mia's mother, Elena Davis. But Elena came from a working-class background and couldn't help Richard's "grand ambitions." So he dumped her, married Victoria, and had Chloe. A year into his marriage, once his career was secure, he rekindled his affair with Elena and had Mia. From then on, his heart belonged entirely to Elena and Mia, sparking endless high-society rumors. For all these years, he had likely been waiting for an excuse to divorce Victoria without damaging his reputation, so he could legitimize Elena and Mia. Victoria knew all of this, of course. So when Chloe was little, Victoria aggressively courted the Harrington family, successfully locking in an arranged engagement between Chloe and the Harrington heir, Chase. Wary of jeopardizing the massive corporate ties with the Harringtons, Richard hadn't dared to make a move all these years. Now, Victoria was playing her trump card, having the Harringtons intercede on Chloe's behalf. But... even if the Harrington family elders were willing to pull Chloe out of the fire for the sake of their profit margins, would Chase Harrington—a notorious, arrogant playboy—actually agree? I smirked. And turned back to the dorm.
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