Classroom of the Elite (LN) - Vol 17 Chapter 6.1

Once upon a time-travel leap, Mu Caiwei, the gold-medal bodyguard, turned into a poor peasant girl, Mu Caiwei, who starved to death.With nothing to their name, and an empty rice vat, facing a skinny, malnourished mother and a bunch of hungry younger siblings, Mu Caiwei rolled up her sleeves and shouted, “Sister's going to get rich!”Although she had followed a proud and aloof path in her past life, times were now different.At the small stall, Mu Caiwei donned an apron, zealously crying out, “Fried skewers, fried skewers, all kinds of fried skewers…”In the fabric store, Mu Caiwei expertly worked the abacus, “This Q version of damask should be sold for fifty taels of silver a piece…”……Soon, the people of the Great Jin Nation knew that the richest person in the Great Jin was not only a stunning, young girl, but also a generous and philanthropic individual!Mu Caiwei couldn't dream that she received a miracle — a magical space, by simply carrying out a few random acts of charity!She also received an extremely “embarrassing” — predestined marriage!In a nutshell: The stunning transition from poverty-stricken peasant girl to Empress!I'm not good with summaries, so please move on to the main text.

Sui Yan was a villain, at least that’s what everyone thought.

Her childhood friend and brother said: “Sui Yan, you’ve changed and become more and more disgusting.”

Her best friend said: “Sui Yan, stay away from me. I don’t want to see you again.”

Her stepsister said: “Sui Yan, I hate you.”

Her two biological brothers said: “Sui Yan, we don’t have a sister like you.”

The one she loved the most said: “Sui Yan, I could never like someone like you.”

Sui Yan died. Even though it should have made everyone happy, it made them so heartbroken they could barely breathe.

In the blink of an eye, everyone mysteriously returned to the year Sui Yan was four years old. From then on…

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.