Lin Zhao’s steps faltered, impatience in her voice: “Shut up. I’m just worried she might get hurt. What if she loses it?”
101 wanted to say more, but sensing Lin Zhao’s anger, didn’t dare. He only murmured, “But… wouldn’t this be a bit…”
“Shh, don’t speak.”
“Right now, you’re the one who needs me.”
101 quickly shut his mouth, not daring to say another word.
Lin Zhao didn’t go inside the house. Instead, she turned to the street, hailed a taxi, gave the driver the address of the Lin family villa, and leaned back in the rear seat, closing her eyes.
Half an hour later, the car stopped at the Lin villa. Lin Zhao paid the driver, stepped out, and just as she was about to step onto the front steps, Uncle Zhang came hurrying over.
Uncle Zhang walked briskly to her, slightly bowing, and said in a low voice, “Miss, Sir is waiting for you in the study.”
Lin Zhao paused mid-step, her brows knitting slightly.
“Sir?” Did he mean the original owner’s father?
She had only been in this body for a few days. There were only her and the servants in the villa. According to the original story, the couple managed overseas headquarters and rarely returned home—so why were they suddenly back today?
Lin Zhao nodded. “Got it.”
The original owner’s father was a typical businessman, very concerned about appearances, and long annoyed by his daughter’s spoiled behavior, though his constant absence meant he hadn’t invested much energy in discipline.
Standing at the study door, Lin Zhao raised her hand and knocked. A deep male voice came from inside: “Come in.”
She pushed open the door. The room was dimly lit, curtains drawn, leaving only a slit of light to filter in.
Lin Zhenhai sat behind the desk in a dark suit, hair perfectly combed, expressionless, focused on some documents.
Lin Zhao didn’t speak, simply standing a few steps away from the desk, her gaze calm.
Having grown up without parents, she didn’t know how to interact with elders.
Lin Zhenhai’s eyes lingered on her for a few seconds before returning to the papers, casually asking, “Why did you come back on your own today?”
Lin Zhao replied, “I had plans with a friend, so I had Uncle Zhang go back first.”
She said it without blinking, without her heart racing. After all, Lin Zhenhai was rarely home and knew nothing of her social circle; any excuse would suffice.
Hearing this, Lin Zhenhai didn’t ask further. He continued working, pen gliding over paper. After a few seconds, he suddenly asked, getting straight to the point: “I heard your school had exams a few days ago. How were your results?”
Lin Zhao froze.
How could she possibly know the original owner’s grades?
Being questioned like this, she couldn’t give a precise answer and could only respond vaguely: “Not bad.”
Lin Zhenhai raised his head, eyes instantly cold, the air around him growing heavier—clearly dissatisfied with her answer. “Not bad? How is it that I heard you ranked at the bottom of your class?”
Lin Zhao’s fingers twitched, but she said nothing.
He was clearly asking questions he already knew the answer to. Any explanation would be useless. Better to say nothing.
Lin Zhenhai slammed his pen onto the desk, a sharp “crack” echoing. “If I’m not mistaken, your class is the worst in the school, isn’t it?”
“You’re at the bottom in such a class, Lin Zhao. Are you even trying?” His voice rose.
The study’s atmosphere was suffocating. If it had been the original owner, she would probably have been scared into tears. But Lin Zhao’s expression remained neutral, her mind completely unaffected.
So what if she was at the bottom? So what if it was the worst class? These were the original owner’s messes. What did they have to do with her?
She said nothing.
Lin Zhenhai stared at her for a few seconds, warning, “Lin Zhao, do you think I don’t know what you’ve been up to at school? Always hanging around that Gu boy… look at yourself now.”
“Stop wasting your energy on nonsense and focus on your studies. Don’t embarrass us.” He added, “You are the future heir of the Lin family. Look at yourself—how can you bear such responsibility?”
Heir? Responsibility?
For the original owner, these were ultimate honors. For her, they were nothing but illusions.
Seeing her indifferent to his words, Lin Zhenhai’s anger grew. He finally issued a threat: “If you keep messing around, I won’t mind having another heir. The Lin family’s business isn’t dependent on you.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave. Don’t be in my way.”
Lin Zhao didn’t hesitate. She turned and walked toward the door.
In the living room, Uncle Zhang stood at the staircase, looking up anxiously. Seeing Lin Zhao come down, he hurried over, concern written all over his face. “Miss, Sir… did he give you a hard time?”
Lin Zhao shook her head. “It’s fine.” She walked past him toward her room.
Back in her room, she closed the door behind her, leaning against it, lost in thought.
Those words might have been fatal to the original owner, but to her, they were meaningless.
She wasn’t the original owner. She didn’t care about the Lin family’s reputation, nor did she covet the inheritance. Lin Zhenhai’s threats could not touch her.
At that moment, her phone rang, shattering the room’s quiet.
Lin Zhao looked at the caller ID: it was the original owner’s mother.
Lin Zhao closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Today was a disaster—everything was coming at her at once.
She took a deep breath and pressed the answer button. “Hello?”
A gentle female voice came through: “Zhaozhao, did your father talk to you?”
Lin Zhao wasn’t surprised that Ye Wan knew. Lin Zhenhai had just finished talking to her; someone must have told her.
She replied lightly, “Yes.”
Ye Wan was silent for a few seconds before saying helplessly, “Zhaozhao, your father is only thinking of your good. Control yourself, study hard, and don’t make him angry, okay?”
Her voice was gentle but lacked warmth, more like a task being performed than genuine concern.
Lin Zhao said nothing, remaining silent.
She didn’t know what to say, nor did she want to.
“I know you’re upset. Think it over yourself. Take care of yourself at home. If anything happens, contact Uncle Zhang.”
With that, Ye Wan hung up before Lin Zhao could respond.
That morning, Lin Zhao had just reached the entrance with her school bag when a voice came from behind, tinged with mockery: “Well, look who’s up early.”
Lin Zhao’s heart skipped a beat. She turned instinctively.
On the living room sofa, Lin Zhenhai was lounging, left hand holding a financial newspaper, right hand a steaming cup of coffee.
Lin Zhao was slightly surprised. “You didn’t leave?”
Lin Zhenhai looked at her, coldly snorting. “I would have left. Were you planning to go crazy?”
Lin Zhao changed the subject. “I’m going to school.” She turned to open the door, not wanting to stay a second longer.
“Wait.” Lin Zhenhai put down the newspaper, sipped his coffee. “Want me to give you a ride?”
It didn’t sound genuine, more like a gesture of condescension.
Lin Zhao didn’t think twice. She refused without turning her head. “No, I want to take the bus today.”
Lin Zhenhai didn’t stop her, only said sternly, “Be careful on the way. Don’t cause trouble for me again.”
Lin Zhao said nothing, pushing the door open and leaving. She breathed a sigh of relief, picking up her pace toward the bus stop.
The bus stop was far from the villa. Lin Zhao didn’t want to trouble Uncle Zhang, so she ran there herself, arriving out of breath.
Just as she reached it, a bus heading to school arrived. The bus was nearly empty. Passengers were either dozing or staring at their phones. The atmosphere was quiet.
She found an empty seat, sat down, and exhaled, her tense body finally relaxing.
Dealing with others was more exhausting than she imagined—maintaining composure while tolerating nagging, leaving her sleepless the night before. Her eyelids now felt unbearably heavy.
The school was half an hour away—just enough time for a short nap.
She closed her eyes, mind gradually blanking, consciousness fading, and soon fell asleep.
She didn’t know how long she’d slept before the bus suddenly took a sharp turn. Her body was flung sideways, her forehead smacking into a soft object.
“Ouch…” Lin Zhao gasped.
“Ah…”
She had hit someone.
Instantly alert, she rubbed her forehead and looked to the side.
It was Xu Ning.
Xu Ning also looked pained, frowning slightly, fingers gripping the overhead bar.
Their eyes met. Xu Ning’s gaze paused, then quickly shifted away, clearly not wanting to interact.
Lin Zhao frowned slightly, whispering, “Are you okay? I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Xu Ning shook her head, still silent.
Lin Zhao looked at her pale face, the dark shadows under her eyes, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest. Since her grandmother’s illness, Xu Ning hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep. She thought school would give her a temporary escape from reality, but people treated her like entertainment.
They judged others’ backgrounds at will, ignored their struggles, and laughed at their anger.
Everyone knew that kids with no money or family influence, even if they died in school, wouldn’t attract much attention.