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.