Transformation

Originally rough and dull from fatigue and long-term neglect, her complexion had now become fair and radiant, like fine porcelain; all the flaws on her face—eye bags, dark circles, spots—had vanished without a trace. Even her features had undergone subtle changes—the once plain eyebrows and eyes now appeared more lively, the outer corners of her eyes slightly lifted, and the arch of her brows sharpened with a hint of fierceness; her lips regained a natural rosy hue.

She gently touched her face, the texture of her skin so tangible yet astonishing to her. This once unremarkable face now seemed unfamiliar and breathtaking even to herself.

Yun Xian held the mirror for a long while before finally setting it down. She straightened up; her previously slender shoulders now bore clear contours, and the muscles in her arms and legs tightened subtly.

She raised her hand and lightly clenched it into a fist, distinctly feeling the power flowing between her fingers.

“So… this is body enhancement?” she murmured softly, her gaze complex—joy tinged with a faint unease.

A cold breeze crept through the window gap, climbing up the back of her neck and making her shiver involuntarily.

Snapping back to reality, Yun Xian turned and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a clean set of clothes to change into.

After tidying the room briefly, she went to the bedside, lifted the thin blanket, and slipped into bed.

Outside, the wind and rain battered the tin roof; inside, the air remained damp, yet her heart was more peaceful than ever before.

Her thoughts gradually blurred, and she drifted into a deep sleep without realizing it. The rain continued its steady tapping beyond the window, while within her dreams, something beautiful seemed to be taking shape.

The next morning, Yun Xian woke promptly at seven as usual.

She stared blankly at the rusty tin roof, memories of last night flooding back—the mission, the points, the enhancement… She instinctively raised her hand to touch her face, feeling the smooth, delicate texture, and was momentarily dazed.

She shook her head, suppressing the unreal sensation. Getting up, she washed, changed clothes, tied her hair simply, stuffed several textbooks into her bag, and stepped out the door, descending the stairs.

The rain had stopped; the sky was veiled in a thin mist. In the alley below, her old, worn bicycle stood parked—its chain loose and paint chipped in patches.

Yun Xian mounted the bike, pedaling through the wet streets toward school. It was Monday, with two literature history classes and an elective; she had to arrive before the first class began.

Yun Xian attended Jiang University, the city’s finest institution. She rode through the campus gate, following a path strewn with ginkgo leaves to the familiar classroom building. After parking her bike, she headed toward her classroom.

The room was not yet full; scattered students chatted in small groups or flipped through books.

Yun Xian chose a seat near the front, quietly arranging her books and opening her notes for the day. The surrounding noise gradually faded as if muted by her own will.

Soon, however, a sharp burst of laughter came from the doorway. She instinctively looked up and saw four figures strolling in arm in arm.

The short-haired girl in front immediately caught her attention. Her features were pretty, her short hair neat and clean, with an edge of sharpness in her aura.

Yun Xian’s fingers paused mid-turn of the page.

That girl was Chen Jingyi, once her roommate. At first, they got along reasonably well, but for some unknown reason, Chen Jingyi began to isolate her, enlisting others in the dorm to shun her, even exaggerating things in front of the counselor to paint Yun Xian as difficult to get along with, and deliberately making things hard for them.

Yun Xian had wanted to explain but ultimately chose silence. She disliked conflict and saw no point in wasting time on pointless arguments. So she moved out, renting a small place alone. Though financially tighter, her life became much quieter, and balancing work and study was easier.

Chen Jingyi’s gaze swept the classroom and paused noticeably when it landed on Yun Xian, a faintly inscrutable smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

She strode directly to sit beside Yun Xian, the others following to encircle her.

“A big change today,” Chen Jingyi said, turning her head to appraise Yun Xian’s face thoughtfully, the smile deepening. “Not working anymore? Got time to put on makeup now.”

Her tone was light, as if joking casually, but loud enough to draw the attention of nearby classmates.

A boy nearby immediately chimed in, his voice laced with deliberate disdain: “Could it be she’s got her eye on someone? Tsk tsk, someone else’s going to be unlucky.”

A girl sitting on Chen Jingyi’s other side snorted, raising her chin to look down on Yun Xian: “Didn’t expect your makeup skills to be so good. But use some good stuff, okay? Don’t ruin your face with cheap products.”

Their eyes flicked over Yun Xian in turn, seemingly awaiting her reaction.

Yun Xian lowered her head, her fingers tightening slightly on the page, taking a quiet breath. Just as she was about to speak, a clear voice cut in:

“No matter how expensive the makeup, it doesn’t mean you’ll look good.”

The group turned to see a girl approaching from the back row.

Her features were delicate, doll-like; beneath her straight bangs, a pair of black, clear eyes gleamed with depth and liveliness. Her long, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, smooth and shiny, the ends curled softly, adding a touch of casual elegance. The tailored black dress she wore outlined her slender waist, and her demeanor exuded calm grace.

The girl sat down beside Yun Xian’s other side and casually glanced at Chen Jingyi and her group, a faint smile playing on her lips: “Before criticizing others’ makeup, maybe look at your own bare face first.”

Chen Jingyi’s expression stiffened instantly. The girl beside her opened her mouth to retort, but the newcomer continued:

“Well, some people can still show their face without makeup, but no matter how much gold dust you smear on your lips, you’re still disgusting.”

Chen Jingyi’s hand clenched slightly, eyes fixed on the girl. Her companions were about to reply when a deep voice interrupted:

“Class has started. Quiet.”

The teacher entered from the doorway, scanning the classroom.

The group exchanged glances and, resigned, fell silent, sitting upright.

The teacher began outlining the lesson points on the podium. Yun Xian focused intently on her book, taking careful notes.

The girl next to her, however, rested her head on the desk, idly doodling on her notebook, occasionally glancing at Yun Xian from the corner of her eye.

When the teacher turned to write on the blackboard, she softly spoke:

“My name’s Lin Wan’er. I just transferred.”

Yun Xian lifted her eyes slightly, nodded in acknowledgment, and said nothing further.

Lin Wan’er seemed unbothered by her coolness, smiling gently:

“You’re Yun Xian, right? Your name’s really beautiful.”

Yun Xian’s pen faltered briefly, her tone calm yet distant:

“Thank you.”

Lin Wan’er's smile remained. She straightened her posture, her gaze drifting back to the podium.

Yun Xian lowered her eyes to her book, the tip of her pen turning gently as the tension in her palm eased slightly.