Bzzz…

Bzzz bzzz bzzz…

The persistent vibration pulled me from sleep back to reality.

Where…?

Groggily, I reached under my pillow, grabbed the buzzing phone, swiped the screen awake, yawned, and silenced the alarm.

In the dim dorm, the phone’s top-left corner—set to low-brightness mode—read: 6:40 AM.

Ugh… so sleepy…

As I rolled onto my side, the soft swell of my chest pressed together slightly. The familiar weight made me freeze for a moment before it clicked—

Oh right.

I’m a girl now.

From an overworked middle-aged office drone who died on the job, I’d become Bi Xin Xue: a 17-year-old girl driven to the edge by poverty and loan sharks.

"Mmm…"

I sat up. Wearing only a slip dress, my unrestrained chest jiggled lightly with the motion.

…This must be day four?

Two days hospitalized, one day home yesterday—today makes four.

I’ve been *her* for four days.

At this rate, I really will live on as "Bi Xin Xue."

I glanced down at the pale curve beneath the thin fabric, recalling last night’s quiet exploration in the bathroom.

…Actually… not bad at all?

A girl’s body feels better than a guy’s—in every way.

Just… high-maintenance.

Especially *these*.

The "price" of allure brought more hassle than charm—running, sleeping, daily life.

I smoothed stray strands of hair behind my ear, tossed aside the towel blanket, grabbed my phone, and carefully climbed down.

Last night: lights out at 11:30 after room inspection. The girls chatted; Jiang Yuqing, e-commerce class monitor, even ran a raid in *Jian Wang 3*. All in all, nearly seven hours of sleep—healthy enough.

Seven at night, one nap: eight total. Enough.

Reason for rising early? Still exercise.

Beauty and figure are social assets for girls—but risks too.

In my field, meeting all sorts of guys… if some boss gets ideas and I’m too frail to resist? Ruined.

Quietly slipping into slippers, I scanned the other beds.

…Whoa.

My height let me take in five sleeping silhouettes. Only Jiang Yuqing wore pajamas; the rest—shorts only, tangled sheets, bare shoulders gleaming in the dawn heat.

Bi Xin Xue’s memories told me: girls sleep braless. It’s stuffy otherwise. I’d seen it before in showers, in memories. But *this*—real, present, vulnerable—hit different with a guy’s soul inside.

Still… no urge stirred.

After all, I no longer had the "tools" for that.

If things went sideways? *I’d* be the one losing out.

After a respectful glance at a sight few men ever witness, I turned to the sink, trickled water into my cup, and began brushing.

Teeth. Face. Hair tied back. Changed into loose clothes. Opened the dorm door.

As freshmen, we still did "morning reading"—7:40 to 8:10 AM. Euphemistically called "staying true to our original aspirations." Truth? Open a book when Student Union checks, then phones or naps once they leave.

My plan: 6:40 up. 20 minutes to wash, dress, reach the field. 7:00 AM—light jog, leg stretches, ab toning. Save heavy work for evening. Five minutes back. Perfect.

I *could* go alone. But humans are social. Do this daily? Chen Xiaorui—my only female classmate in Software Class Two—would think me aloof, weird, dismissive.

University truth: you can be quiet, even proud—but you need friends.

If we’re close? Notices, schedule changes, events—we cover each other. Miss something together? Teachers go easier.

So yes. Chen Xiaorui and I *must* be friends. Best friends.

Walking to class together? Non-negotiable.

"…"

Near 7 AM, campus lay hushed. A handful of students dotted the field.

At a "anyone-can-get-in" university, this wasn’t surprising. Showing up to class on time was already a win.

"Huff… huff…"

Same as last night: seven minutes of running (enduring the bounce), sweat beading. Back to the equipment—stretch calves, massage thighs, tighten the core.

Then, refreshed, I returned to the dorm.

Girls were stirring. Jiang Yuqing blinked at me. "Huh? You exercised *this* early? Xiao Xue… you seem like a whole new person."

"I *am*," I grinned playfully. "Brushed past the brink of death. Woke up: *I’m this pretty—I can’t die yet.*"

"Pffft—hahaha!" She laughed. "That’s the spirit! When we heard… half the class was confused. *‘Our CS department’s beauty tried to…? But she’s gorgeous!’* So many of us envied you." She tugged Song Huijie—the class life committee rep who’d argued with Xiaorui yesterday. "Huijie, didn’t you say you envied big chests?"

"Huh?" Still groggy, Song glanced my way, then mumbled toward the sink. "What’s so great? Live fine without ’em."

Jiang leaned closer, nodding toward Xiaorui’s bed. "Wake *her* up. She fought her boyfriend badly after you left. Cried in the bathroom. Comfort her later?"

…A fight?

Perfect.

Golden chance to bond with Xiaorui.

"Xiao Rui." I gently shook her shoulder. "Up! Morning reading!"

"Mmm? Oh… okay…" She sat up slowly, rubbed her eyes, yawned wide. "Xiao Xue… you exercised again?"

"Yeah. Doctors said my body’s too weak after the rescue. Gotta exercise, keep schedule—or I’ll get sick." I added shyly, "Did I wake anyone?"

*(No doctor said that. But "medical advice" sounds necessary—not like a scheming girl chasing perfection.)*

Like when one gaming buddy suddenly studies: the other panics. So you say, "My grandma’s visiting—she wants to see me rank top ten." Then he plays guilt-free. Friendship intact.

Yeah. I just want to feel strong. Look healthy.

"I heard nothing. Slept like a log." Exactly as predicted. Relief softened her face as she climbed down.

"Xiao Xue," she took my hand, tone warm but firm, "We haven’t had breakfast together since school started. Today? My treat. Anything you want."