I am the innocent Cinderella in a high school romance novel. I was admitted to an elite private prep school on a full merit scholarship. Cinderellas usually possess stubbornness, aloofness, integrity, and other qualities that set them apart from the rich kids. I have absolutely none of those. I’m just broke. 01 Ever since I was born, I knew very clearly that I was poor. An orphan, never enough to eat or wear, going to school with a mountain of debt. Nobody knew how I even managed to stay in school. Of course, this indirectly proved that I was an academic god. Things soon took a turn when I caught the eye of an elite prep school. Full ride for three years, plus generous scholarships. I held the acceptance letter, looking at it from every angle, absolutely thrilled. Damn, thank God I’m so good at studying. 02 The city's top public high school had approached me before. They earnestly told me that if I enrolled there, I wouldn't have to worry about tuition for three years, and more importantly, I'd have a healthy environment to study in. The principal sighed, "You're a great seed, you can't be buried." He was hinting at something. I knew that elite prep school was notorious. Every year they took in scholarship students, and without exception, they all ended up fading into the background, chewed up by the social hierarchy. If I went there, the same fate might await me. I patted my chest. "Don't worry, sir. I'm not like the others." I was heading straight for their high-dollar scholarships and the school's recycling bins. I was purely in it for the cash. 03 "An innocent little wallflower can't survive here. I advise you to watch your back." The redhead sitting in front of me turned around, glaring at me coldly. I poked my index fingers together shyly. "Are you gonna finish that?" The redhead: "?" She followed my gaze to the empty soda bottle in her hand. The world kisses me with pain, and I stick out my tongue. I harvested another plastic bottle. Patting my bulging, heavy-duty trash bag, I happily slung it over my shoulder and walked out. "What is that new scholarship student doing?" "A hoarder? I've seen her collecting everyone's empty bottles." "Oh my god, what a freak!" I swaggered away. These rich kids who have never experienced a day of hardship in their lives—do they know what's in this bag? It's eight dollars and eighty-eight cents! A whole eight dollars and eighty-eight cents! 04 Most of the time, I'd wander around the school's dumpsters. There was a lot of good stuff there. The dumpsters at an elite prep school gave off the illusion of being a luxury recycling center. I was digging and digging when I looked up and made eye contact with a lean, pale, clean-cut guy. He wore neat, simple clothes. Seeing me, he frowned slightly. I felt like my trash bag had been exposed. I was very uneasy. Even such a niche market had competition. I guarded my bag warily. "Don't just dig through my turf." The guy said nonchalantly, "Does it have your name on it?" Guess not. Writing your name on a dumpster isn't very dignified, and after brushing myself off, I'm still a dignified person. I decided to ignore him, grabbed my loot, and left. The guy followed me, carrying his own bags. Eventually, we both ended up at the exact same local recycling center. The owner greeted us with a smile; we were clearly both regulars. I later found out his name was Liam, and like me, he was a scholarship student. Liam's eyes were a bit complex. I understood his complexity. After all, we were fierce competitors just a moment ago, and now we were kindred spirits in poverty. His gaze fell on the patches on my clothes. Liam: "You..." Me: "What? You need patches? I bought ten online, I can sell you some. Two bucks each." Liam: "..." "Sorry, I didn't know your situation was this tough." I sniffled and said deeply: "It's okay." Liam was silent for a moment, then voluntarily handed his bag of cans to me. "Put it on her tab." I was deeply moved. "You're so nice." 05 I was poor, but I was genuinely a god at studying. Taking tests was a breeze. In the statewide exams, I ranked first every time. Looking at the top of the leaderboard, Liam was also in the top ten. The name of our prep school next to our names was particularly glaring. It gave off a very smug, looking-down-on-the-world vibe. The principal was thrilled and called Liam and me to his office specifically to praise us. His old face was glowing. When he went to district meetings, he walked with his chest puffed out. Liam and I were each handed a fat bonus envelope. Principal: "Chloe, keep up the good work!" I was moved: "With money on the line, it's a piece of cake!" Somehow, the phrase "piece of cake" spread around. There was a private forum at the school, and someone mocked me: [A broke student claiming things are a piece of cake? Is your whole life a piece of cake?] I was triggered. My life was a complete disaster. I chose to snitch. The principal was busy comforting me, while Liam, who had just walked in to drop off some papers, looked like he couldn't bear to watch. Our principal was a man of great pride and power. He was a big shot in his youth, and in his old age, he suddenly got the urge to build a real academic legacy at this school. He immediately dragged out the guy who led the mockery, chewed him out, and demanded he apologize to me. The guy apologized reluctantly. Of course, I knew he was pissed. After leaving the principal's office, the guy turned around, ready to mock me for being a snitch, but saw my mysterious smile. "You're at the very bottom of the class, aren't you?" His face instantly turned the color of a bruised plum. "How did you know... Wait! None of your business!" I put on a profound look. "Do you want to..." He was wary. "Want to what? Let me warn you, don't think you're a big deal just because you have good grades and the principal likes you. My family owns the Vanguard Group! My pinky is thicker than your waist!" Hearing him name-drop his billionaire family, I silently wept tears of envy in my heart. It's so good to be rich. I hate it. I adjusted my urge to strangle him and whispered like a demon, "Do you want to secretly work hard, and then make a stunning comeback to shock everyone?" The guy froze. I pressed on: "Do you want to see your name on the honor roll?" "Do you want to hear the teachers gasp in amazement, get praised by the principal, and see your parents weep tears of joy?" His footsteps faltered. I delivered the fatal blow. "Do you want to stand at the top of your social circle and look down on everyone else?" These rich kids were still in high school, but there was always unspoken rivalry in their circles. Although grades weren't crucial for their futures, if someone was perpetually dead last, they were definitely the prime target for being roasted. The guy gritted his teeth. "What exactly are you trying to say?" I could tell his resolve was crumbling. I was very satisfied and slapped him on the shoulder. "Miss Chloe's tutoring classes are now open! Not $998, not $888, but for just $98, you can experience a comprehensive tutoring session from the number one student in the state!" The guy was stunned. 06 Carter never thought he'd spend his life sneaking around in an empty lounge with a scholarship student. He gritted his teeth, lowering his voice. "Chloe, I'm telling you, don't try any tricks. I've got money and muscle." With that, he pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill. I snatched it with lightning speed, looking left and right warily. "Let's begin." Carter was suspicious. "Is this really necessary? You're acting like we're doing a drug deal." ... Carter's academic foundation was shockingly terrible. To sum it up, in all my life, I had never seen a talent level this abstractly bad. Fortunately, he listened and was willing to use his brain. There was hope. After one session, Carter looked as if his soul had been purified. He stared blankly at the math problems he had understood and solved perfectly, gripping his pen tightly. This... he actually solved this! He looked at me as if I was glowing—emitting the light of knowledge. Now he understood the value of this session. Carter took a deep breath. To be honest, his family had hired top-tier private tutors for him, but for some reason, he just couldn't absorb anything, no matter how they guided him. I sincerely explained that the reason was simple: Carter's brain and theirs were not on the same wavelength. Carter: "?" Those highly-paid tutors had grown up around people of their own caliber. They had never seen an abstract anomaly like Carter. But I was different. For the right price, I could adjust my thinking down to his exact level. Hehe. 07 We agreed to weekly tutoring. Carter generously offered to pay double the market rate per hour. I agreed and symbolically signed a one-month contract with him. Carter was displeased. "Why only three times a week? I can hire you every day. As long as the results are good, raising your salary isn't an issue." Nope. Three times a week was it. I wasn't someone who put all her eggs in one basket. Turning around, I added Carter's mortal enemy, the second-to-last student in the grade, Mason. "Tutoring services available. DM for info." Mason: "?" I earnestly described his current situation and informed him that if he didn't make some changes, he would soon replace Carter as dead last. Mason scoffed. "Joke. Carter could have all the tutors in the world and he'd still be dead last." That sentence came to an abrupt halt when I sent him a photo of Carter's latest passing quiz score. Me: "Oops, wrong chat." The person on the screen went silent. He was struggling. A long while later, he sent a message. "Um, let's meet and talk." 08 Soon, Mason's schedule was locked in too. Monday, Wednesday, Friday for Carter. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday for Mason. The great tutoring enterprise was booming. Two individuals were quietly rising in the elite prep school. In Carter's words, he never wanted to be the butt of the joke again. In Mason's words, he absolutely could not accept Carter surpassing him. Earning two incomes wasn't easy. I would frequently and casually leak a bit of Carter's progress to Mason, or "accidentally" leave behind one of Carter's passing quizzes. I'd cover my mouth in surprise. "Oh, where did this come from?" Mason's pupils would earthquake as he stared intently at the paper. "Can we add an extra hour today? I'll pay triple." Me: "Deal." And I'd casually praise his strong drive to succeed. Mason ate it up and studied even harder. With Carter, it was even easier to trigger his competitive spirit. After all, he had nowhere to retreat to. The dead last couldn't exactly drop to negative first, could he? 09 As time went on, I was exhausted every day. I take back what I said about money being easy to make. The money was hard to earn, and the struggle was real. Tutoring wasn't hard; it depended on who I was facing. Sometimes I broke down: "Is what's between your ears actually a brain?" I understood the pain of being a corporate wage slave now. I felt like I should be charging them for emotional distress. One day, rubbing the dark circles under my eyes, I walked out of the lounge, half-asleep. Suddenly, someone stood in front of me. Liam was wearing a student council prefect armband, holding a blue folder in one hand and a black pen in the other. His gaze was faintly probing. "Chloe." I instantly snapped to attention. I was quite wary of Liam. This guy always had a faint, lingering presence. When we showed up at the same recycling center, we were destined not to get along—this was a unilateral declaration on my part. Just as I thought he'd say something like, "This is my dumpster, please don't touch it, or I'll deduct all your points," Liam looked down and scribbled furiously with his pen. "No school blazer. Minus two points." Me: "..." Bro, seriously? 10 Liam stared at my dark circles, stayed silent for a moment, and carefully chose his words. "Watch your reputation." I answered honestly, "Yes, I know, not wearing the blazer is my fault, but is it possible I don't even own this school's uniform?" I heard it was custom-made by some high-end luxury brand. Other students: "This brand isn't exclusive enough." "Horrible, I have to wear this?" "Is the school this broke? I'll ask my dad to fund another building!" Just saying things that made me want to jump off a cliff. Here, Liam paused for a moment and suddenly asked, "You don't know?" I was confused. What was I supposed to know? Liam thought for a second, then suddenly handed me his phone. He pointed at the screen. I looked and immediately saw a massive headline. [Innocent Cinderella Not as She Seems! Daily Secret Rendezvous! M-W-F With Him, T-Th-S With...] I scratched my head. Sounded like a trashy clickbait title from some tabloid. What kind of drama was happening now? But scrolling down, the first photo was a massive close-up of my drooping face with giant dark circles. Me: "?" Innocent high school girl instantly transforms into the ghost from The Ring. I was furious: "Who took such an ugly picture!"
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