[Qiao Ning's Room—Later]
Lu Zhen stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed and legs slightly apart, looking like a confused uncle trapped in a teenage girl's body.
He turned slowly, scanning the room again.
Bright curtains. Soft pinks. Tidy desk. Cute pillows. A rabbit-shaped trash bin smiling like it had no idea of trauma.
He frowned.
"This doesn't look like the room of someone who'd try to off themselves… Are you kidding me? My old room looked like a crime documentary and even I didn't try suicide."
His eyes drifted to the photo frame on the bedside table. He picked it up and stared.
Qiao Ning.
Soft smile.Gentle eyes.
"Why… did you try to kill yourself?" he murmured under his breath. He wasn't expecting an answer and he didn't get one.
He placed the frame back and walked toward the mirror. His steps were awkward—because his hips had a mind of their own—and he nearly tripped over his own hair twice.
Standing before the mirror, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. On a face that absolutely did not have a chin meant for rubbing.
He squinted at his reflection.
"This girl is… beautiful. Annoyingly so." He leaned closer, frowning deeper. "Why does she look so soft? So gentle? She looks like the type who apologizes to furniture."
He pressed his palm against the mirror, eyeing the reflection intensely.
"A girl who looks like this… tried to kill herself?" He bit his lip. "What could've pushed her that far?"
No answers. Just a pretty face looking sadder the more he stared.
Finally, he stumbled back and flopped onto the bed like a deflated balloon.
"One thing's for sure," he mumbled into the pillow. "Her parents looked terrified… like they'd been crying for days."
He turned his head, staring at the ceiling, his voice softer than he expected. "…What happened to you, kid?"
A beat passed.
Then he suddenly sat up, fists clenched in determination. "Alright—let's find out about you, kid!"
He hopped off the bed—almost slipped because, again, unfamiliar hips—and marched to the study desk.
The moment he got there, he froze.
"…What the—this is a shrine to studying."
Books. Notes. Flashcards. Highlighters. A calendar full of deadlines. Rubber bands. Clips. A stress ball shaped like a cat. A cheap set of colorful bracelets.
He stared around the room in disbelief.
"She's definitely a vibrant kid," he muttered. "Studious… organized… cute accessories… not the type to suddenly—"
He frowned.
"But there must be a reason why she tried to delete her precious life."
As he turned away, something caught his eye. A corner of a notebook peeking from under the bedsheet.
"…Uh? What's that?"
He yanked the sheet and pulled out a small pastel-pink diary with stickers on it.
He opened it.
The first page read:
March 30thHe gave me my favorite banana milk during lunchtime. I can't believe the man I've had a crush on… finally noticed me. Let me write this so I won't forget this day.
Lu Zhen's soul almost rolled out of his body.
He slapped the diary shut. Then trembled.
"…Don't tell me… she killed herself because of some stupid love."
He covered his face with both hands.
"Oh god—please don't tell me I am into a tragic, love-struck schoolgirl drama arc… I was fighting gangsters two days ago; I cannot emotionally handle this!"
He groaned into his palms, then dragged himself toward the study desk like a prisoner walking to execution.
"Alright, kid…" he muttered, plopping down heavily. "Let's get to know your tragic backstory. Whether I like it or not."
He flipped open the diary again.
April 1
He said, 'I love you.' I almost cried. I didn't know he liked me too. I am going to write so I won't forget our anniversary.
Next line—
April 2
Lie. It was all a lie. He was pranking me. April Fool's. A stupid bet. I even gave up my scholarship for him. How could he?
Lu Zhen's hand froze mid-page.
"…giving up a scholarship?!"
He turned the page, jaw tightening.
April 12
They set me up. Framed me for stealing his money. Dad had to bow to them… why did he have to bow? Why did they make him do that?
Lu Zhen furrowed.
April 28
Why did they beat me up today? What did I do? I don't talk to anyone. I don't bother anyone. Why? Why me?
Lu Zhen's fingers tightened around the diary.
Next page.
May 20
They locked me in the bathroom again. Threw muddy water on me. Even when I complain… nothing happens. They always get away.
Lu Zhen's chair creaked under him as he leaned forward.
"…Again? They did this AGAIN? That means she faced this numerous times."
He flipped the next page.
September 1
They forced me to do their homework today. All of them. They laughed when I cried.
September 20
I can't do this anymore. Every day is the same. Every day hurts. I won't get into college like this… Mom and Dad will be ashamed because of me. I… I don't know what else to do. I have no choice… I have to—
SLAM!!
Lu Zhen shut the diary hard enough to scare his own soul.
He leaned back in the chair, fingers trembling—not with fear, but with fury.
"So… in short," he whispered, breath shaky, eyes darkening, "she wasn't just a pushover."
He looked toward the mirror—toward Qiao Ning's reflection. "She was a kid who kept getting beaten down because everyone around her was trash."
He leaned back, cracking his knuckles one by one.Crack. Crack. Crack.
A humorless smile curled on his lips.
"Alright…" he muttered, his his tone dripping with the promise of violence. "I get why I'm here."
He stood up—slow, deliberate, every step radiating a familiar predator's aura.
"I ain't here to cry in a diary… or hide under a bed…" His eyes sharpened, the murderous glint returning. "I'm here as their karma."
He leaned forward, whispering to his own reflection as if sealing a contract, "Whoever these little shits are… whoever laid a finger on this girl… whoever thought bullying her was entertainment…"
His voice turned razor-sharp.
"I'll make sure they get what's coming," he growled. A slow, feral smirk curled across his—well, Qiao Ning's—soft, gentle face. The contrast was terrifying.
"Properly."
SLAM!!!
He burst out of the room with so much force the door bounced back like it feared him. The moment he stepped into the living space, he raised a fist like a gangster marching into enemy territory and yelled:
"I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO SCHOOL!!!"
The Qiao family nearly jumped out of their skins.
Qiao Jian blinked, toothbrush still in his hand from the bathroom.
"…What?" he croaked.
Qiao Mei nearly dropped the bowl she was holding. "Right now?"
Lu Zhen marched across the living room like he was leading a mafia raid, punching the air with each step.
"Yes," he declared, voice full of pure murderous passion. "I am READY—to go and punch them like the slimebags they are—"
He shadowboxed the air.
Left jab. Right hook. Uppercut.
The aura around him screamed 'angry street thug,' but unfortunately… the body was still a soft, delicate 17-year-old girl in an oversized pink sweater.
The parents just stared.
Then… they exchanged a look. A soft, tiny smile bloomed on both their faces—relief mixing with cautious hope.
Qiao Jian cleared his throat. "My dear… I'm happy—really happy—that you want to return to your daily life…" He swallowed the worry tightening his voice. "But… not today."
Lu Zhen froze mid-punch. "Why?"
Qiao Mei stepped forward gently. "Because, Ning Ning, you need rest. Your body is still weak. After this weekend… you can go back to school."
"Oh."
He blinked, shoulders lowering slightly—not because he agreed, but because even gangsters needed to pick their battles.
Qiao Mei's face softened as she walked closer. "…Should I make some snacks for you, my dear?"
He paused.
His—fine, her—eyes sparkled like he'd just been offered a golden treasure chest.
"I would love to," he said immediately, with zero shame and full enthusiasm.
The parents' smiles grew, small but relieved… like they'd just witnessed a tiny miracle. And that—right there—was how the reincarnated gangster, once feared across the underworld… officially accepted snacks from his new mom.