Meng Ningning’s POV:

The sterile white hospital room still reeked of antiseptic. A dull ache lingered in my wounded hand. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep, but memories of my past life flooded my mind—memories of being the Champion, of being Reinhardt.

Who was I? Meng Ningning? Or that dragon-slaying hero Reinhardt? What was my purpose in this world?

*"Ah~ Noble Champion, thank you for eradicating humanity’s greatest foe. By royal decree, I crown you the next king."*

The human king’s nauseating words still echoed in my skull—so hollow, so pretentious.

*"Look! The Hero King of mankind! If only my child could be like him."*

Ignorant crowds had lined the streets to cheer for me, oblivious to the price of heroism. In that life, I’d paid too much: comrades fallen in battle, lovers left waiting endlessly, two years spent begging elves to bless my Holyblade… Only to die not by the Doom Dragon’s claws, but in some petty palace coup. Ridiculous. I could still taste that poisoned wine.

"Ningning Meng, Room 506! Time for your dressing change."

The nurse roughly smeared ointment on my ankle. Pain shot through me—I nearly cried out. In my past life, I’d endured far worse; sprains were routine. Why did this hurt so much now? Was it because this body was female?

"Stay overnight for observation. If you’re fine tomorrow, you can leave. Press the call button if you need anything."

"Okay."

Sunlight stabbed through the window. I wanted to shut the curtains, but my injured foot pinned me to bed. *If only that guy hadn’t left…*

What was I even thinking? If he hadn’t appeared and triggered my memories, I’d still be a carefree schoolgirl.

*No!* Now that I remembered my past life, romance felt impossible. What was I supposed to do?

Toot my own horn? Fine—I *had* been a golden-haired, emerald-eyed Adonis with six-pack abs. After seeing *that* perfection, what guy could interest me? And marriage? It felt like… gay panic. Gross.

Lesbian? Sorry, not interested. Besides, my parents would disown me if I dated girls.

My phone rang. Caller ID: *Mom*.

"Mom, listen! I’m absolutely not into girls! I’m totally normal!"

"What nonsense are you spouting? It’s almost six! Why aren’t you home for dinner?"

"Ah—I’m having dinner with my anime club friends. I’ll stay over at my bestie’s tonight. Okay?"

A weary sigh crackled through the line. "Ningning… you’re grown now. If you won’t come home, just stay safe."

Hanging up, my heart settled. If she knew about my injury, she’d rush here to fuss. I didn’t want that.

*Grrrrooowl…*

My stomach growled. So late already? I should buy food… *Crap.* No wallet. Mortifying.

I buried my face in a pillow, wrapping the blanket tight around my belly. *Skipping one meal won’t kill me. Sleep. Just sleep.*

*Grrrrooowl…*

My stomach betrayed me like a broken alarm clock—blaring every thirty minutes. I was going to starve to death here.

I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, desperate for distraction. Then I tapped the food app. Big mistake. Braised pork belly. Sweet-and-sour ribs. Steamed perch. Red-braised prawns… *No!* Drool pooled in my mouth.

"*Ugh!* I’m starving!"

*Life is precious, dignity priceless—but for food’s sake, both can be sacrificed!*

Gritting my teeth, I dialed *him*.

"Doom Dragon? I need help. Come to the hospital."

"Hospital? Lady, check the time—it’s almost ten! Can’t this wait till morning? I’m going to bed."

"No! By tomorrow, I might be a corpse in this bed."

"What the hell? Did you sign a kidney-selling contract?"

"Yes or no. Will you come?"

"...Fine. Wait there."

Twenty minutes later, Doom Dragon stood in my doorway.

"What’s so urgent?"

"I—I’m hungry."

His jaw dropped. I knew it was absurd. But true.

"Champion, are you messing with me? Buy food! Why drag me here? Planning to stew me for dinner?"

"I… have no money."

He pulled out his wallet, slapped a few crumpled blue Mao bills (ten-yuan notes) on my bedside table.

"That’s all I’ve got. Get whatever. I’ll add it to your tab."

"You’re… just leaving?"

"*For heaven’s sake!* I gave you cash. What else do you want?"

His patience had snapped—and no wonder. Who’d be happy getting dragged to a hospital at night over *hunger*? His shout drew nurses and patients from neighboring rooms.

"Who’s yelling at this hour? Have some decency!"

"Sorry! My fault. I’ll leave now."

*Leave?* Not before buying my dinner. Too naive. Time to deploy fifteen years of girl-skills.

I covered my mouth with my sleeve, letting out soft sobs.

"Go. And don’t come back."

A tearful girl in bed. A stunned guy. Scattered bills on the nightstand. Soap-opera lines. The onlookers’ eyes narrowed.

"*Whoa.* What a scumbag!"

"She’s just a kid! Tossing cash like trash after ruining her?"

"Kids these days…"

"STOP! Everyone, it’s not like that! We just met today! She called me to bring food!"

"Food? At ten PM? You think we’re idiots? Fix this now, or I’ll post your face online!"

*Heh.* Checkmate, Doom Dragon. Crying, tantrums, threats—I’d mastered them by age fifteen. Buy my dinner, or you’re not stepping out of this room.

He shot me a pleading look. *Surrender accepted.*

Ten minutes of damage control later, peace returned. Doom Dragon sat beside my bed, arms piled with snack bags, watching me devour them.

"Seriously? You’re a lady *this* lifetime. Must you eat like a starved wolf?"

I chugged cola, cramming bread into my mouth. Starving trumped dignity. Besides—I’d been a Champion. Who cared? He wasn’t my boyfriend.

"Eat slower. No one’s stealing it. It’s late. I’m leaving. And *please*—don’t call me again."

"Wait!"

I set down my food.

"Your name. Your *current* name."

"Qiuyuchen. That’s me now. Fate willing… let’s never meet again." He vanished into the hallway.

*Qiuyuchen.*

I’d remember that.