After being reborn, I had a bad ending with my first love. - Chapter 1

The rain fell in a soft, rustling drizzle, shrouding the small city of Sushan in a watery veil. Landmarks and passersby alike blurred into obscurity.

At six in the morning, breakfast stalls were already open on the roadside. White steam puffed from stoves into the damp air. At this hour, the street was filled mostly with students in No. 1 High School uniforms, hurrying toward the school gate.

An electric scooter zipped past. As it crossed a pothole, muddy water splashed onto Yan Sui’s white socks, staining them instantly.

Yan Sui only lowered her head to glance at them, but didn’t care much and kept walking.

“Student, where’s your school badge?”

The voice of a duty officer up ahead pulled her from her half-drifting thoughts.

She pulled the badge from her pocket. Resting in her palm, it felt both familiar and foreign. Even though it had already been four days since her return, she still couldn’t hide her excitement whenever she saw the words on it: “Sushan No. 1 Senior High School.”

Pinning the badge to her collar, Yan Sui adjusted her backpack straps, straightened her posture, and walked into the campus.

“Suìsuì!”

Just as she was about to enter the teaching building, someone shouted.

She turned toward the sound and saw Tan Shu, holding a broom beside the flower bed, waving energetically.

Tan Shu jogged over with the broom in hand. “Morning!”

A fleeting strangeness flashed through Yan Sui’s eyes when she saw her, but it was quickly hidden beneath a bright smile. “You’re on duty today?”

Tan Shu and Yan Sui lived in the same residential compound. The two had grown up together—kindergarten, elementary, and middle school, they’d always been classmates and the closest of friends. When they first entered No. 1 High School in their freshman year, they were even in the same class. But in the second year, Yan Sui chose the liberal arts track while Tan Shu stayed in science. That was what finally separated the inseparable duo.

Because of differing class schedules, they now went to school separately and only walked home together in the evenings.

Tan Shu swung her broom irritably and complained, “It’s all because of this guy in my class—he bugged me all day yesterday to swap duty with him. I was supposed to be on Wednesday duty, and now I’m stuck with Friday. Who wants to stay late on Friday when everyone else gets to leave on time?”

Yan Sui smiled and comforted her. “It’s fine, I’ll wait for you after school.”

Tan Shu waved it off. “Forget it. Don’t bother waiting. I’ll probably drag things out really late. Just go home. Didn’t your dad come back this week? Better spend time with your family.”

At the mention of the word “dad,” Yan Sui’s gaze flickered for just a moment. But she quickly curved her lips into a smile again. “Yes, he’s back this week.”

Only this time, her smile didn’t reach her eyes; her gaze was calm, betraying no emotion.

By the time she entered the classroom, most of the students were already at their desks studying. In the honors class, this was the norm—especially in No. 1 High School’s top class. Half an hour before morning study even began, nearly everyone would already be present.

Yan Sui sat down, pulled out her Chinese textbook, and began reviewing the memorization homework assigned yesterday.

Her book was filled with dense notes, recording nearly everything the teacher had explained in class. These past two days, she had been studying with unprecedented focus. Even after going home, she hadn’t let her books out of her hands.

This time around, she could not repeat the regrets of her previous life.

Four days ago, Yan Sui had returned—to her seventeen-year-old self.

Her memories lingered on the moment she had received an emergency call from the hospital, rushing from a neighboring county back to Sushan.

The rain that day had been especially heavy—the heaviest downpour Lin’an City had seen in years. The meteorological bureau had issued three yellow alerts that morning alone. The wipers on her car couldn’t keep up with the torrents pounding the windshield, her view fading in and out. The summer rain carried a humid heat, yet inside the car, with the AC off, she still felt as if she had fallen into an icy abyss, shivering uncontrollably.

She gripped the steering wheel tighter, recalling the words from the call.

“Miss Yan, Ms. Sui’s condition has worsened…”

Her thoughts were a tangled mess, with only the doctor’s final words standing out clearly in her mind.

Ever since the incident in her senior year, her mother’s health had been fragile. While Yan Sui was in university, her mother had been diagnosed with severe depression. Her younger brother dropped out to care for her, while Yan Sui juggled schoolwork with part-time jobs to cover expenses and her younger sister’s living costs.

After finishing her bachelor’s degree, she gave up on pursuing graduate studies and went straight into a foreign trade company.

The pressure during those years was immense, but she had endured, clinging to the belief that as long as her siblings and mother were alive, she had a reason to keep going.

But misfortune never comes alone. Just when she was about to be promoted to supervisor—a position that promised double the salary—she was pushed aside by a newly returned overseas student. When she questioned her manager, he brushed it off with a vague promise of “more chances in the future.”

Later, a colleague quietly told her: the new hire was the boss’s niece. The role was merely a gilded title for her.

When she learned the truth, Yan Sui had barely held herself together, forcing her emotions down until she was alone. The position she had struggled for years to earn had been nothing more than a decorative prize for someone else.

Exhausted, she had returned home—only to hear that her mother had attempted suicide and was in the ICU.

Yan Sui had felt her world collapse.

But when she saw her younger sister clutching their brother and sobbing, she knew she could not fall apart.

Her mother lay in the ICU for three years.

Then came the call today: her mother might not last the night.

Yan Sui had thought her life was already bleak enough. But hearing that, she truly understood despair.

Why couldn’t heaven show her even the smallest mercy?

As her mind spun, her phone rang again. Seeing the word “Sister” on the screen, dread instantly filled her chest.

Hands trembling, she answered.

Through sobs, her younger sister’s voice came from the car’s speakers:
“Jiejie…”

“Mom… she’s gone.”

Yan Sui: “…”

—

“Yan Sui, Yan Sui.”

Someone tapped her lightly on the arm. Yan Sui jerked out of her daze.

Her deskmate, Chen Ling, pressed her hands together with a pleading smile. “Suìsuì, lend me your math test paper for a look, please!”

Yan Sui obliged, pulling the paper from her book and handing it over.

Chen Ling grinned, immediately taking out her own paper to copy. While scribbling, she chattered, “By the way, Suìsuì, isn’t the school choir going to start rehearsals soon? I heard they’ll even represent the school at the district competition.”

At the words “school choir,” Yan Sui’s fingers tightened around her pen.

The choir had been specially organized for the school’s fiftieth anniversary celebrations.

She was a good singer. Back in her first year, Tan Shu had persuaded her to enter the campus singing competition, where she’d won second place. Naturally, the music teachers had sought her out for the choir.

In her past life, Yan Sui had joined. And there, she had met him.

“Host, don’t forget the purpose of this return.”

A cold mechanical voice rang in her head, stirring up waves in her heart.

The system had returned with her four days ago.

In her last life, just as the windshield shattered before her, her consciousness had been pulled into another place. Nothing existed there except a voice calling itself “System.”

The system had asked her if she wanted to go back and change her family’s fate.

Thinking back on her short, tragic life—all of it rooted in what had happened at seventeen—she had answered without hesitation: “Yes.”

The system explained the rules of rebirth, the taboos she must not break. “If you can accept all this, press the button before you.”

Her eyes had flickered with hesitation, but the moment passed. Without thinking, she pressed the red button.

In the next instant, her body was swallowed by a vortex, her consciousness fading away.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in her own bed at home.

.

After Chen Ling got no response for a while, she waved her hand in front of Yan Sui’s face. “What’s wrong with you?”

Yan Sui returned to herself. “Ah… oh. The choir, right? I don’t know the schedule. I’m not going this time.”

Chen Ling’s eyes widened. “Why not?”

Yan Sui lowered her gaze, flipping to the next page of her book. Her voice was calm. “I just don’t want to.”

—

Fridays were lighter than the rest of the week, with only one PE class and a self-study period in the afternoon.

Yan Sui skipped PE, staying in the classroom to review the morning’s lessons.

Her return had been sudden. Before this, she’d graduated years ago, and much of her high school knowledge had long been forgotten. She still had some muscle memory in math, but for other subjects, there were countless facts to memorize.

If she wanted a good university score on the college entrance exam, she would have to work harder than anyone else.

Many students in the honors class also skipped PE for extra study. The PE teacher turned a blind eye.

When Yan Sui finished a math paper, Chen Ling happened to return to the classroom.

She set two drinks on the desk, sliding one to Yan Sui.

Yan Sui glanced up, immediately recognizing she wanted a favor, and set down her pen. “What is it?”

Chen Ling pressed her palms together again, beaming. “Suìsuì, my dad’s picking me up today to help with my cousin’s banquet. Can I swap duty with you? Just for today?”

It was no trouble to Yan Sui—going home late suited her fine. The less time spent around that man at home, the better.

She agreed without hesitation, shaking the soda can in her hand with a grin. “Then I’ll accept this with thanks.”

.

Chen Ling’s duty was to clean their designated area.

This had happened in her previous life too—she remembered it clearly. So when Chen Ling asked, Yan Sui instantly thought of what had followed back then.

The system had warned her: though she was reborn in this world, every change she made could trigger a butterfly effect. Except for her main missions, she should minimize altering the original course of events.

She asked, “If I make this happen earlier, is it okay?”

The system replied: “Any action you take will affect the outcome of an event. That is beyond control. As long as you don’t alter the cause, the result won’t matter much to you. If there is something you must not do, I will tell you.”

Yan Sui understood. What it meant was: as long as she let the cause remain the same, the butterfly effect of her actions wouldn’t matter.

In truth, the system’s restrictions weren’t very harsh. It told her to avoid changes, but hadn’t tied her hands completely. Apart from certain critical turning points, she could rely on her past-life memories to navigate safely.

Still, Yan Sui regarded her rebirth as a rare gift, and treated the system with respect.

Whenever she could follow the old timeline, she would. That way, the butterfly effect would spread as little as possible.