A year ago, she was the star guest at a grand festival.
But the moment she stepped off stage, her own agent slipped her drugs—planning to sell her off to the spoiled young master her family had chosen for her.
She fought tooth and nail to escape, only to stumble upon Zhang Yichen's former self, collapsed from heatstroke.
Her nature had always been kind. She couldn't just leave someone to die.
Besides, she herself needed to reach a hospital to purge the drugs.
She hadn't expected that saving him would drag her into even greater trouble.
The instant she pulled him into her car, his weak body gave out. He died right there in the passenger seat.
And so, his corpse became the vessel for the transmigrated Zhang Yichen.
At the same time, the drugs in her system surged, leaving her desperate for a way out. Zhang Yichen—just arrived in this world—became her only "antidote."
"So that's what happened!"
Remembering the confusion he felt waking up in the hospital a year ago, Zhang Yichen let out a laugh that was equal parts sorrow and fear.
"So… are you saying you were the one who took advantage of me?"
He shamelessly played the victim, though he had clearly benefitted.
"Take advantage?" Zhang Xueyao's lips curled into a sharp, mocking smile. "Who exactly took advantage of whom?"
Her voice was as cold as ice, her gaze sharp enough to pierce him like a blade.
The cramped, dimly lit rental flat seemed to close in around them.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Zhang Yichen's chest tightened under her glare, and he instinctively ducked his head. "I was so young back then! And besides—it's not like I made the first move…"
He muttered the words under his breath.
"You think I wanted this?" Her voice rose, her eyes burning as she leaned closer. "Do you think I'm the kind of woman who would casually throw herself at anyone?
"That night, I was drugged. I barely managed to escape—and then I found you, passed out from heatstroke.
"Saving you meant losing my chance to treat myself.
"And you dare say you had nothing to do with what happened? You dare say you bear no responsibility?"
Her voice trembled, emotions spilling with every word.
"Do you know what I had before that night? I was on top of the world. My future was limitless. My net worth was at least five to six hundred million.
"And me—I was untouched. I had never been with anyone. I didn't even know I could get pregnant."
Her breath caught. "It wasn't until a month later, when my period didn't come, that I realized."
"I struggled. I hesitated. I was terrified. But in the end, I chose to give birth to this child.
"For the baby's sake, I gave up everything—my fortune, my career, my pride. I even fell into massive debt.
"But I don't regret it. If I had to do it again, I would still make the same choice."
Tears welled in Zhang Xueyao's eyes. Her voice carried suppressed sorrow, helplessness, and pain.
Zhang Yichen's chest ached. He forced himself to speak, his voice low and rough. "I… I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't accept it all at once."
"Couldn't accept it?" Her bitter laugh cut him deeper than a knife. "And what about me? I bore everything alone. I faced the media's questions and the fans' suspicions. Did anyone ask if I could accept it?"
Her words stabbed straight into his heart.
And the truth was, even what she revealed was only the surface.
Her real suffering over the past year had been far worse.
A phoenix fallen to the ground isn't even worth as much as a chicken.
When she terminated her contract with her agency, she finally learned how cold the world could be.
In the past, she had supported countless colleagues—stood on stage with them, pulled strings to get them opportunities.
But once she fell, nearly everyone tried to step on her. Even her former assistant treated her with disdain.
This was the entertainment industry: nothing but profit and fame. No humanity, no compassion.
So she survived alone.
She disguised herself as plain and unattractive to avoid harassment, all to protect her child.
She scrubbed dishes, delivered food, handed out flyers—anything to earn money during pregnancy.
Once or twice, she thought of asking Zhang Yichen for help.
But back then, he had only been a boy. He could barely feed himself. How could she burden him?
Reality, however, was cruel.
Because she lacked money, she couldn't maintain her nutrition during postpartum recovery. Her health collapsed—she fell sick every few days.
In that condition, no one would hire her, not even for delivery jobs.
She never imagined that being a single mother would be this hard.
Zhang Yichen's throat tightened. He wanted to speak, but no words would come.
Silence fell between them. The only sounds were their uneven breaths.
Finally, he forced out a hoarse whisper: "I'm sorry…"
"Forget it."
Chen Xiaoxi knew that in truth, no one could accept something like this easily.
But she had no other choice. She had nothing left, nowhere to go.
She could sleep on the streets, in an underpass if she had to—but the baby couldn't.
"You have college and a part-time job during the day," she said softly. "So the child will stay with you at night, and I'll care for her during the day. Is that okay?"
"No problem."
This time, Zhang Yichen answered firmly.
The fog in his heart had cleared. He understood now—this was his child. He couldn't, and wouldn't, run away from that.
Still, something in her words left him with questions.
But he chose not to press her. For now, agreeing was enough.
"Um… would it be okay if I stayed here for a while?"
"Of course. Stay as long as you need."
"…Thank you."
She had already decided before coming—she would return to singing.
Before her debut, she had worked as a bar singer.
But that bar had been her family's business. After breaking with them, she could never return.
She would have to find another bar.
It wasn't ideal, but it was fast money.
She wanted to make a comeback, but she knew it wouldn't be easy.
The way she had torn up her contracts and defied her company—no agency would take her lightly again.
If no company would sign her, she would have to return as an independent artist.
But for a lone singer, especially one who had disappeared for so long, getting booked was nearly impossible.
Her only real option was to release a new single.
And not just any song—a good one. A hit that could climb the charts.
But producing a high-quality single cost anywhere from tens of thousands to millions.
Still, she wasn't discouraged. With her experience, she could earn tens of thousands singing in bars.
As long as she worked, she could gather the funds. If she couldn't find the right song, she'd write one herself.
With one single, she could spark her return.
"By the way," she asked suddenly, "what's your major?"
If she was going to relaunch her career, then caring for the child would fall heavily on him. She needed to know if he'd have the time.
"Music."
Her eyes widened. "Music? You… you're studying music?"
She hadn't expected him to share her passion.
"Not just studying." His voice was calm but confident. "I'm already an expert."