Reborn: Catching the Cold-Hearted School Beauty Shoplifting at the Start

"What did you say? The only vote I got when I ran for sports committee back then—wasn't it from Hu Caiwei?"

"But the handwriting was clearly hers."

Shadows flickered across the café. At thirty-two, Lu Yuanqiu, impeccably dressed in a suit, looked at the man sitting opposite him in astonishment, voicing his confusion.

The man’s name was Gao Qiang, a high school classmate of his. Gao Qiang took a small sip of his coffee and replied, "No, it wasn't her. We went to the same university, and she told me herself."

Lu Yuanqiu pondered for a moment, then suddenly let out a self-mocking laugh and picked up his coffee. "If it wasn’t her, then who was it?"

The memories surged back. That year, in his second year of high school, Lu Yuanqiu had mustered the courage to run for sports committee, but there were five other candidates. Even though he was now worth hundreds of millions, back then he had been at the bottom of the class.

During lessons, he was either in the classroom’s far corner with the troublemakers or standing by the podium as a disciplinary ‘bodyguard.’ Not only was he a poor student, but he was also seen as a ‘bad kid’—no one liked him.

But sports was his pride and joy.

He watched as all fifty-two classmates cast their votes for the other five boys, not a single one for him. Standing on the podium, he feigned indifference, a careless smile on his face, but inside, he was utterly dejected.

At that age, no one is truly carefree. Most are sensitive at heart. Lu Yuanqiu wa