I transmigrated into a novel, becoming a very beautiful background character—just a pretty face used as a foil for the heroine. And it all started back when the heroine still needed tutoring to get through difficult problems...

Male side character Nathan Foley: “How do you still not get this? Shannon already went to represent the school in a competition today. Weren’t you both specially recruited at the same time?”

Nathan, you really understand what it means to be a male side character. Talking to the heroine like that—are you tired of living?

It wasn’t until that same male side character dropped to one knee and proposed to me that I was stunned to realize—he’d had his eyes on me all along.

…

Right after I dropped into this book, I had to rush to Norland to compete. Before I arrived, the original host had spent half a month cramming Norlandic, but she still wasn’t very fluent.

I, on the other hand, had majored in a minority language in college and worked in Norland after graduation. The day before the competition, after discussing the presentation with the team, I casually fixed a few unreasonable parts of the PPT.

After several rounds of smooth, effortless exchanges with the judges, it was no surprise we took first place. I got the prize money in dollars and even enjoyed a one-day tour of the nearby sights.

Now I was lying in an endless expanse of snow, the aurora shimmering overhead, so beautiful it felt unreal.

“Shannon, can you stop lying on the ground like some country bumpkin who’s never seen the world? It’s embarrassing.”

A clear male voice sounded above me. I watched as he bent down slightly, but I didn’t move.

A moment later, someone lay down in the snow beside me.

Pierce Harlow.

In the novel, he was the poster boy for class snobbery. His childhood education had drilled into him how lowly and despicable the “bottom rung” was, so he’d grown up with a deep-rooted contempt for people from lower classes.

The original host was the first person he openly attacked. He said she was trying to use this platform to turn herself into a phoenix on a high branch, that with grades that good she still chose money over everything else, instead of pursuing a better university and “finding herself.” Then he went on to insult her looks, insinuating she was trying to land a rich husband with her face.

Back then, the original host had simply nodded and admitted it—yes, she loved money. What was wrong with that? Did coming to this university mean she’d stopped trying to “find herself”? Had her life become some barren wasteland?

The male lead was fucking speechless. Compared with him, the male side character’s blunt honesty toward the heroine was a hell of a lot more acceptable than this bastard’s self‑righteous crap.

“I did have some prejudice against you before,” Pierce said. “I admit you’re a very good person. Stella was right. People from the lower class actually—”

“No, you weren’t wrong,” I cut him off, sitting up. I planned to go back to the cabin to warm up.

If I kept talking to the male lead, that would just give the plot extra scenes it didn’t need.

I had no idea when I would be able to return to my original world, so for now I could only maintain the original host’s distance from this group of people. The less she got involved with them, the less messy things would be when she came back to her own life.

The ugly duckling becomes a swan only because it was a swan to begin with. Cinderella becomes a princess only because her background was never truly “low.”

The heroine, Stella, is the long‑lost daughter of the richest man in the country. The original host is the one who really comes from the bottom.

She has a grandmother to support and a father paralyzed from the waist down after a car accident, unable to care for himself. The entire family’s expenses rest on her shoulders alone.

After the college entrance exam, her perfect score and striking looks clashed sharply with her poor family background. She became a trending topic online for a time. Anyone with half a brain could see how much potential value she carried, and the top universities fought to recruit her. Even the elite, aristocratic schools seized the chance to offer her extremely generous terms.

The original host’s life was already hard enough. I didn’t want her to be dragged into the male lead’s brainless love drama on top of that.

As for this marriage everyone expected would happen—I rejected it from the bottom of my heart.

“I’m sorry!”

A voice suddenly came from behind me. I stopped walking, wondering if my ears were playing tricks on me.

When I turned around, Pierce’s wind-reddened face was half-buried in his scarf. “My prejudice was wrong. You’re actually… really great.”

“I know. Let’s go.”

“If you ever need anything in the future, you can come to me.”

“Thanks.”

One in front, one behind, Pierce stepped into the footprints I’d left in the snow, a faint smile softening his brows.

In the mingled light of moon and snow, he really was a stunning sight.

It had been snowing hard when I arrived in Norland, and it was snowing again when I left.

On my way back, the male side character Nathan sent a message:

“Safe travels. I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

Scrolling up through our chat, I saw that on my way to Norland he’d sent, “Have a smooth trip.”

And then—nothing after that.

The news of the award spread almost the moment it landed in my hands.

The person who came to pick us up at the airport was Principal Dr. Vance. I handed him the gift I’d bought in Norland, and he accepted it with a pleased grin. The very first thing he did in return was treat us to a lavish meal.

At the table, I brought up taking a day to go home. Dr. Vance agreed without hesitation.

“Shannon, don’t let Pierce keep his share of the prize money,” he said. “He told me to give it all to you. His family doesn’t need the extra cash anyway. Just take it.”

I glanced, surprised, at the guy who was still buried in his food. Half the bonus—five hundred thousand—was enough to buy that basketball he’d been eyeing and then some.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll treat you to a meal sometime.”

“Great, it’s been a long time since I’ve tasted Shannon’s cooking.” Dr. Vance clapped me on the shoulder as he spoke.

The one who’d been quietly eating finally lifted his gaze to me, stared for a second, then asked a bit awkwardly, “When?”

“I’ll text you when the time comes.” In the original story, he’d been openly disgusted with Shannon, so his sudden cooperation caught me off guard.

Pierce seemed to realize that too. He pressed a hand to his forehead, coughed a couple of times, then went back to eating.

“Dr. Vance, Pierce, I’m going to head out first. The taxi’s already waiting downstairs.”

“Go on, then.” Dr. Vance dragged my suitcase to the doorway of the private room and patted my shoulder. “And say hello to your family for me.”

The ride home started quickly. I gave the driver the last four digits of the reservation number, and the car pulled away from the curb.

Outside the window, skyscrapers rose one after another. I couldn’t help sighing at how hard it must’ve been for the original Shannon to carve out even a tiny place for herself in a society like this. So much hardship, so many blows—and yet her heart had stayed stubbornly resilient.

“I’m here. Thank you.”

Staring at my phone, I remembered how I’d left Nathan on read. Guilt prickled, and I finally sent him a reply.

Back at the apartment building, I had barely pressed the doorbell when the door swung open.

A man in a wheelchair sat in the entryway, his eyes slightly wet. “You’re back safe. That’s all that matters. You’re back safe.”

“You’re back! That’s all that matters!” The old lady who’d been watching TV hurried over too.

“Dad. Grandma.” I hugged them both, handed out the gifts, and patiently explained how to use each one. Only then did I retreat to the original Shannon’s room.

I planned to look for any clues that might help bring the original soul back. Then I could move on to my next life. Hogging someone else’s existence forever didn’t sit right with me.

I wandered around the room. Most of Shannon’s books were classic literature, both domestic and foreign, but one brightly colored novel stood out among the spines. The moment I pulled it out, a letter slipped and fluttered to the floor.

“When you see this letter, I’ll already be living out my life peacefully in another world.

I’m sorry for leaving you to pick up the mess, but I’ve already tidied up as much as I could.

You are the successor I chose from among countless worlds. This was a premeditated farewell. The truth is, I’m the heroine of this story. I knew that from a young age, so I spent my life trying to lower my presence, to push new leads to the front. But the ending never changed. Misfortune and suffering never bypassed me.

I’m tired. All the love I received was always just barely enough.

I tried to run from the revulsion and resentment, yet that ‘just enough’ love constantly wrapped around and smothered those feelings. I was like a kite whose string had never broken, dragged back and forth through pain.

With the help of others, I finally cut the string. My new successor, I saw in you something of myself, but without the chains that bound me. This grand world welcomes you. I wish you peace.”

I folded the letter, my emotions a complicated tangle.

A life given back. A script completely rewritten.

The apartment was a simple three-bedroom, one-living-room place—more than enough for three people. When the caretaker arrived that evening to help out, I gave her a small gift too, to thank her for taking such good care of them over the past few years.

Home was a place I could always come back to, but not a place I could stay for long.

Everyone understood that without saying it out loud.

I took a cab back to campus. My dorm was a double.

The other girl was away on an internship and only came back once in a while. I was quietly relieved. I was afraid someone would notice something was off, because I wasn’t the real Shannon.

Speaking of internships, the original Shannon had apparently done translation internships every vacation at companies partnered with the university. After all, once you’d taken their money, you owed them the favor. Fortunately, the internships were paid.

I pulled up my class schedule and committed the times to memory.

Even stuck in a hospital bed, I never imagined I’d have to go through college all over again.

After completely going through the original owner’s phone, seeing half-finished assignments and even some pending freelance translation jobs, my face morphed into a full-on mask of agony.

Dragging myself around like the walking dead, I packed up my things and headed to the library. It all felt so surreal, like I still hadn’t woken up from a dream.

After nearly three hours in the library, I’d barely made a dent in my homework.

I was exhausted.

Staring at the pile of materials I still needed to look up, I roughly memorized a few titles and searched for their locations at the catalog station.

I had to admit, the library was huge and tall, with special ladders for reaching the higher shelves.

I climbed up, pulled down three thick English reference books, and had just steadied myself when a voice drifted down from above my head.

“What a coincidence.”

My gaze slid away from the shelves. I looked up at the exquisite face in front of me and froze. “Nathan?”

“Surprised? What are you looking for?”

“Thanks, I’ve already got everything I need.” I shook my head, hugging the books to my chest.

Nathan was the other male lead in the novel—a contrast to the domineering, childish protagonist. In terms of emotional intelligence and rationality, he crushed the other guy completely.

Out of all the characters, Nathan was probably the one I liked most. Whenever the heroine was in trouble, he was the one who helped her.

“All the seats are taken. Can I sit with you?” Nathan held a classic novel in his arms and asked quietly.

I nodded and walked ahead to lead the way.

Once we sat down, I went back to my work, and Nathan silently opened his book beside me.

The soft rustle of pages turning, the rhythmic tapping of keys, the sting in my eyes… By the time I finally finished, it was already dark outside. Half the people in the library had left for dinner.

Nathan’s book hadn’t moved in a while. He was resting his chin in one hand, staring at me without blinking.

I tilted my head slightly, puzzled.

He pointed at a line of English on the page in front of him. His fingertip was slender, his nail smooth and glossy with a hint of pink.

I found myself staring a little too long. Only when Nathan nudged the book toward me did I realize what the sentence said.

“Dear miss, may I have the honor of sharing dinner with you?”

I smiled and nodded, then shut my laptop and left the library with him.

“Are you done with your assignments and work?” he asked.

“There’s way too much. I can’t finish it. Seriously, I can’t.” Just thinking about the translation jobs I still had to do made me feel like that bitter gourd king from some kids’ cartoon.

Nathan let out a quiet laugh and lowered his head to look at me. “Need my help?”

“Really?” I looked up at him, eyes practically lighting up.

“Of course. If you don’t want to take on so many orders in the future, I can ask the company to send you fewer translation projects.”

“That would be great, Mr. Foley. Please do. The semester’s almost over, and I want to focus on my grades. I’ll take on more work over summer break.” The original owner was supposed to intern at the second male lead’s company this summer, and the translation gigs from school were for that same company. If Nathan could help smooth things out, that would be perfect.

“Mm.” Nathan’s lips curved, clearly in a good mood.

“Do you eat hotpot? There’s a two-person hotpot set on the third floor. It looks amazing.” I’d been craving it so badly. The second I stopped studying, the hunger hit me like a truck. Staring at the top-ranked dish on the ordering page, I couldn’t help swallowing.

“Sure.”

“My treat. I only got into Norland because you recommended me for that spot.”

“It wasn’t a big deal. You got in on your own merits. I was honestly surprised that in just half a month you became so fluent. No grammar mistakes, and you could handle back-and-forth conversations on the spot.” As he said this, obvious admiration flickered in his eyes.

I laughed, a little embarrassed. “Anyway, thank you. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to leech a meal off my upperclassman. Let’s go grab the hotpot ingredients first.”

I steered the conversation away with a joking tone. I couldn’t exactly admit it was a lucky fluke. After all, what I knew was very real.