The boy lightly pressed the top of his ballpoint pen, and the tip—having fought fiercely for over ten minutes—finally received the signal to retreat, retracting into the barrel. All that remained on the desk was a neatly written equation, proof of its hard-fought battle.
Flipping the white answer sheet revealed its title:
"Yuanyue International High School Spring Semester Entrance Exam, Subject: Mathematics, Duration: 120 minutes."
Beneath the printed title, in black ink, was the examinee's name:
"Yan Huan."
It was a spring afternoon, bathed in golden hues. Sunlight streamed through the second-floor classroom window, illuminating the handsome profile of the boy who had just finished his exam.
Beneath his slightly long, wavy black bangs, his dark eyes glanced outside, reflecting the vast green field splashed with crimson light—the track field, tracing the path of the setting sun.
On the running track, young athletes in track suits ran laps, resembling Kuafu chasing the descending sun. In his past life, Yan Huan had always imagined Kuafu as a young, robust boy—because he believed that endlessly chasing the sun, never tiring, was the very essence of youth.
It was something only the young would do, a privilege others envied.
Fortunately, this parallel world also had legends of Kuafu, allowing him to use such references in his essays.
Around him, his classmates were still hunched over their papers, laboring away. Only Yan Huan set down his pen—still warm from his touch—lightly on the desk.
Propping his chin in his hand, he exchanged a glance with the middle-aged, bald math teacher at the podium before their gazes parted in silent understanding.
This kid, finished again in no time... Zhou Bin, your bald head is reflecting light again.
Their thoughts collided in the void, neither aware of the other's musings.
"Read the questions carefully. Double-check your answers."
That was his math teacher from last semester—Zhou Bin. A rather humorous name; every time Yan Huan saw him, he thought of imported Japanese raw cola.
Bored, he listened to the frantic scribbling of his classmates, his mind wandering aimlessly.
"Does my transmigration lack a certain... Fantasy element?"
Lost in thought, Yan Huan suddenly found himself brooding over this.There was no Golden Finger System implanted in his brain, no Female Monster coming to repay kindness at night, nor any foreign glutton in the warehouse asking, "Are you my master?"—nothing at all!
He had simply died young, collapsing suddenly at his overtime desk, only to be reborn as an infant in a completely unfamiliar, seemingly parallel world, starting life anew.
After living diligently for over a decade, this year marked his transition into young adulthood again! To be honest, Yan Huan had a tiny bit of anticipation—his sixth birthday wish had been for his transmigrated life to have a touch of Fantasy element.
But contentment brings happiness. Having died once and been reborn through transmigration, what more could he ask for?
If Kobe could revive and reincarnate in another world, he probably wouldn't care about the endless barrage of internet memes about spinning back elbows either.
With this contented thought, Yan Huan, feeling genuinely bored, decided to follow Zhou Bin's (not "Bin," but Teacher Zhou Bin) advice and pick up his exam paper for a proper review.
So, clutching his test sheet and ballpoint pen, he pretended to check his answers while zoning out, killing the remaining exam time.
Soon, it was almost time to submit.
"Twenty-five minutes left. Double-check your name, student ID, and answer sheet."
"Tick. Tock. Tick."
It was just another ordinary afternoon in the silent exam hall, filled with the rhythmic sound of the clock's ticking, as if reminding students of the dwindling time.
But a second later, Yan Huan belatedly noticed something odd.
Wait, wasn't the exam clock digital?
He glanced at the whiteboard at the front—the countdown timer flickered silently, making no sound at all.
Just as confusion set in, a voice as clear as a lark's suddenly intruded into his ears like an auditory hallucination:
"Hello, can students in Exam Hall One hear me?"
Yan Huan froze slightly, instinctively turning toward the classroom door. But before he could, a shrill, childlike scream exploded in his mind, halting his movement.
[DO NOT ANSWER! DO NOT ANSWER! DO NOT ANSWER!]
What the hell? Did the Trisolarans attack? Why now and not in his past life?! As Yan Huan clutched his ears in bewilderment, his peripheral vision caught a small head peeking slowly through the open exam hall door.
Beneath a fringe of sleek black hair, a pale hand cupped like a megaphone near her lips confirmed the girl as the source of the voice.
She was stunning—possessing looks that could easily score full marks, magnetic enough to make it hard to look away.
Most striking were her bright, dewy eyes beneath long lashes, shimmering with starlight, their gentle curves giving her an angelic allure.
On the heaving chest of her gray school uniform hung a name tag:
"Class 1-B, Bai Yi."
Well, at least it wasn't the Trisolarans. [Your life is about to end. Emergency World Line intervention initiated!]
[Correction plan activated. Maintain your current posture. Do not exhibit any behavior suggesting awareness of the Modifier, or severe consequences will follow.]["Please allow me to explain the details later"]
World Line? Modifier? Life termination?
The voice in his ears sounded again, steadier now and less grating, but the barrage of strange terms was no less overwhelming than before.
And Yan Huan truly heeded the mysterious voice in his head, refraining from reckless movement—in fact, he didn't dare move at all, only cautiously tracking the girl with the corner of his eye. The reason was simple: he had horrifyingly realized that the girl named Bai Yi seemed separated from the entire world—she was semi-transparent.
In his peripheral vision, the translucent girl with an exquisitely beautiful profile stepped into the exam hall where his classmates were furiously writing.
Then, instead of lowering her hand, she let out another "Ah!" in that pleasant voice, like a mountaineer freely releasing pent-up frustration from her chest.
Yan Huan blinked, but apart from him, everyone in the exam hall continued with their tasks as if they had heard nothing.
"They really can't see me."
The girl covered her mouth and giggled, tucking a loose strand of black hair behind her ear, revealing her small, delicate earlobe.
She walked into the exam hall as if completely at ease, even waving her hand in front of Zhou Bin, the student in the first row who was bent over his paper, watching with amusement as they remained utterly oblivious to her presence.
"Hmm hmm~"
Humming a tune Yan Huan didn't recognize, she paced the podium with her hands behind her back, as naturally as an inspecting official.
Then, her brows furrowed as if suddenly remembering something, and she turned an unhappy gaze toward Zhou Bin on the podium.
Yan Huan didn't know what she was planning, but he watched as she searched for something by the podium—a marker.
Gripping the marker, she approached Zhou Bin with mischief in her eyes.
Under Yan Huan's widening stare, she stood on tiptoe and drew a large black X on Zhou Bin's face, followed by several more scribbles. Yet, neither Zhou Bin nor the other students seemed to notice anything amiss.
Zhou Bin's eyes swept across the exam hall, but no matter how he looked, he couldn't see the girl right in front of him—nor did he realize his face had become a canvas for graffiti.
Only Yan Huan witnessed this utterly absurd scene.
"Hah, serves you right for calling my mom to tattle on me."
Her sweet voice, now tinged with mischief, perfectly matched her triumphant expression.
A ghost?
No… I think I know this girl. Come to think of it, Yan Huan suddenly remembered who this vaguely familiar girl was.
Bai Yi, a student in his grade. Earlier, Yan Huan had mentioned seeing her outside school because she was something of a celebrity at Yuanyue Academy.
A young artist signed with a renowned international entertainment company, she had captivated countless netizens with her youthful charm, hailed as "the wife a million people are waiting to grow up with."
She had already starred in three films, released several hit songs, and had countless endorsements—Yan Huan had even stumbled upon her ads while browsing online.
Though she was far from being a major star, she was undoubtedly one of the most famous students at school.And now, this internet-famous youth idol was doodling on Zhou Bin's face with a marker?
And he was the only one who could see it?
What kind of "Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai" plot was this? "Whoosh..."
The wind outside suddenly picked up, making the curtains flutter wildly and the papers on his desk tremble.
The blue-white curtains, washed to a faded hue, rose and fell like waves, partially obscuring Bai Yi's figure. Yet neither her lustrous hair nor the hem of her skirt moved an inch, as if she were a beautiful ghost existing independently from this world.
Ethereal. Breathtaking.
But the moment the wind stirred, Bai Yi suddenly turned her head as if sensing his gaze, narrowly missing his cautious observation.
"Huh?"
Oh no!
After hiding for so long, he might be exposed right now!
Yan Huan's mind raced, yet his expression remained composed as he simply looked in her direction. This, however, made Bai Yi visibly uncomfortable.
She glanced at herself in confusion, then at the curtains that had settled back down as the wind died, before finally turning to stare directly at the handsome boy sitting by the window.
Ah... So it's you, Student Council President.
Bai Yi pressed her lips together and wordlessly walked toward Yan Huan, making his heartbeat gradually accelerate. Yet his expression didn't change, and the ballpoint pen continued to spin between his fingers.
"Can you see me?"
A faint, pleasant fragrance drifted from the girl now standing right before him, fresh like flowers blooming at dawn.
She leaned slightly forward, her black hair tilting just enough to brush against Yan Huan's temple—yet he felt nothing.
But this only confirmed his belief: she was absolutely real.
Yan Huan remained motionless, his gaze fixed straight ahead as if admiring some scenic view right through her chest. "..."
Receiving no response, Bai Yi fell silent for a moment before her face lit up with a mischievous smile unbefitting her pure idol image. She picked up another pen from Yan Huan's desk.
Something miraculous happened—the pen she lifted instantly turned translucent. It was as if she had extracted its semi-transparent soul from its physical form.
One pen remained on the desk; the other, now translucent, rested in her hand—like a World Line split in two.
"Your face is just as irritating as ever, President."
Huh? Me?
Wait, we're not even acquainted—we've never met offline, have we?
But Bai Yi offered no further explanation. Her smile devoid of warmth, she pointed the tip of the pen at Yan Huan, clearly intending to write something on him as she had done to Zhou Bin earlier.
Yan Huan's dark eyes gradually focused as the voice from earlier echoed in his mind: [Correction Plan initiated. Maintain current posture. Do not exhibit any behavior suggesting awareness of the Modifier. Consequences will be severe!]
Yet despite this, his arm tensed subtly, as if preparing to seize her slender wrist beneath her sleeve.
At this critical moment, a distinct "tick... tick... tick..." sound emanated from the girl before him—identical to the clockwork noise he'd heard earlier.
Then, other mysterious sounds began emanating from her...[Current Effect: No Concern]
[The fifteen-minute countdown is about to end. Please take note.]
Bai Yi's movements suddenly froze. She was still holding Yan Huan's gel pen, but her face was already filled with helplessness.
She lowered her head to glance at the time, seemingly reluctant to stop. "Is time up already? So soon?"
With no other choice, she placed the gel pen back in its original position, aligning it perfectly with the one on his desk as if they existed in separate timelines.
Turning back, her sparkling gaze lingered on Yan Huan's handsome face for a long while before she finally huffed and turned away, preparing to leave the classroom.
"We'll have plenty of time later, Yan Huan. Hmph."
"Tick."
"Tock."
The sound of a clock, which had previously echoed, spread once more—mechanical yet reminiscent of heavy droplets splashing.
Yan Huan's gaze followed the illusory chime as he watched her retreating figure disappear step by step until she was completely out of sight.
A few minutes passed, and everything seemed to return to normal.
But the moment after that, Zhou Bin, who had been standing at the podium, shuddered slightly. An unbearable itch, as if countless strokes of a pen had scratched his face, assaulted him in an instant.
"Tsk!"
He hurriedly covered his face with his hand, producing a sharp smack.
The sound drew the attention of the exam-takers. At first, they merely glanced up, but once they did, everyone froze.
"What are you looking at? Have you all finished the second question? Don't you care about your grades? Hurry up and—"
"N-no, it's not that…" A brave student shakily raised a hand and pointed at Zhou Bin, stammering, "Mr. Zhou, y-your face!"
"My face?"
Zhou Bin paused, then quickly pulled out his phone and turned on the front camera.
What greeted him was his bald head, now thoroughly defaced with marker scribbles. Not only was there a crude "JQK" scrawled across it, but also the words:
"Dumb teacher, dumb teacher, dumb teacher."
The handwriting was messy, like the doodles of a three-year-old.
The classroom fell into complete silence, save for Zhou Bin, whose face turned increasingly red as his body trembled violently. "WHO DID THIS?!!!"
A second later, his anguished howl reverberated through the entire school building, likely startling even the other exam halls.
Only Yan Huan remained seated in a daze—he alone knew what had truly happened moments ago.
And just like Zhou Bin, the side of his temple, which had been brushed by the girl's dark hair without any sensation before, now tingled faintly—as if the delayed flirtation from minutes ago had finally struck him squarely between the eyes, painting a picture of the beauty she had left behind.
Along with it came another belated arrival—the birthday wish he had made at six years old… that touch of Fantasy element.