At the entrance of South Gate Street, in a chain convenience store, Xia Hua had already changed into her staff uniform.
After skipping class, she didn’t go back to the dorm to lie flat and wait for doom.
Instead, she followed her usual routine and showed up for her part-time job at the convenience store.
The pay was 12 yuan an hour—she got paid strictly by the hour.
Work longer, earn more. Simple as that.
As soon as the two senior staff saw her arrive, they used “restocking inventory” as an excuse and ducked into the back storage room to slack off.
They were just waiting for the next shift to arrive so they could clock out.
Their day was pretty much done.
Xia Hua was tidying the shelves and manning the register at the same time, her mind drifting far away: “If I really came back from the future… what were the winning lottery numbers again? I don’t know~”
“Right, real estate prices are bound to rise.”
“But I don’t have the money to buy a house…”
“The houses in the east part of the city will be demolished for redevelopment. U.S. stocks will fluctuate…”
And then Xia Hua suddenly burst into tears—because she realized none of this had anything to do with her.
Even if an ordinary person goes back in time, they’re still just… ordinary.
She couldn’t even make a living plagiarizing modern content.
Everyone has their own niche interests—some people can recite five thousand years of history but don’t know who the current World Cup champion is.
Back in college, a visiting professor from Taiwan once asked Xia Hua in class which celebrity she liked.
Her answer? No one. In fact, she barely knew any celebrities.
The professor looked at her like she had no soul, like she lacked the spirit of entertainment, was boring and rigid.
At the time, Xia Hua had a million question marks swirling in her head.
Her real passion was ceramics. She loved eternal works of art.
Why didn’t you ask me what my favorite porcelain piece is? she had wanted to say.
Xia Hua had come to terms with the truth: she wasn’t cut out to be a content thief, she didn’t have the talent to be a singer or idol, and she definitely didn’t have the capital to invest in this booming era.
She scratched her head, frowning. “In the other world, I was running an online ceramics store—kinda well-known even. A ceramic designer, all in on my craft.”
“All I remember clearly are things closely tied to me.”
“Like the experiences that shaped me growing up.”
“…”
So yeah—Xia Hua had basically figured it all out.
Even if she’d been reborn into another world, she wasn’t going to be some legendary figure shaking the heavens and earth.
All she could do was go back to her old trade.
She sold ceramics online in that world, so she’d do the same in this one.
But just thinking about the bumps along the road of entrepreneurship made her sigh again.
This wasn’t the Wild West of e-commerce anymore, when almost anyone could succeed just by getting in.
This was the post-ecommerce era. Newcomers? Basically cannon fodder.
Xia Hua let out a gourd-shaped sigh.
By 7 p.m., the store’s rush hour had passed.
The night shift staff had, once again, disappeared into the back under the guise of “organizing stock.”
The occasional sound of games and voice chat leaking out kind of gave them away, but whatever—Xia Hua was just glad no one was breathing down her neck.
“Hey, cashier, one bowl of cart noodles with XO sauce,” a tired office worker called out.
“Sure, just a moment.” Xia Hua rang him up, grabbed a pack of cart noodles from behind the counter, poured in hot water, mixed in the XO sauce, and handed it over. “Please enjoy.”
This particular convenience store was actually pretty big—part of a new kind of “lifestyle convenience” concept, with seating on both floors for people to relax.
Though Xia Hua already knew the store wouldn’t last past the New Year before going belly up.
Still, nothing wrong with working part-time in a decent environment while it lasted.
She made herself a bowl of cart noodles for dinner too.
It was five yuan, but she added a tea egg, two sausages, and some oden broth.
Then she sat down right next to the office worker to eat. It tasted amazing.
The noodles were great, but the office worker kept glancing at her meal, visibly unsettled.
“Uh, excuse me… did we order the same thing? Are you sure you didn’t forget to add some toppings to mine?”
“You don’t get it,” Xia Hua said, biting into a sausage. “This is the staff meal, okay?”
Back in the day, she never would’ve dared to do something like this—not even add a single lettuce leaf to her noodles.
Only after growing up did she realize how foolish she’d been.
Now, she was in revenge mode.
Everything she used to be too scared to do? She was doing it all now.
Her meal tray was practically overflowing.
The office worker looked on in silent pain. He even tried gently persuading her: “Miss, just saying… maybe you should eat a little less? You know, for health reasons? I mean, don’t you think you’ve gotten a bit… round?”
“All the wrong parts are getting fat,” he added under his breath.
“It’s just baby fat, okay? It’s cute!!” Xia Hua blushed and tried to defend herself.
“That’s not baby fat, that’s a whole human form of Little Round,” the office worker teased, putting down his food with a grin.
He seemed to be in a pretty good mood—before someone called him back to work overtime.
Xia Hua felt deeply offended. You’re clearly just jealous of my staff meal.
Where exactly am I fat? This is obviously just baby fat that hasn’t gone away yet, okay?!
Xia Hua normally didn’t care much about these things, but after being called out like that, she started to feel a little… self-conscious. Am I really getting kind of chubby…?
Once the office worker left, Xia Hua walked up to the huge glass window and looked at her reflection.
She reevaluated her body.
“Looking good!!”
“I think I’m adorable!!”
“It’s just baby fat!!!” she insisted, even as she pinched a small roll of flesh at her waist…
She was a little shocked at how much she could grab, but she raised an eyebrow and forced herself to say:
“Th-this is normal, right?”
“It’s not like I have to be one of those women on TV or in movies.”
“With abs and fingers like spring onions or whatever.”
“What would I even do with abs?”
“Baby fat is cuter!”
“Just look at this squishy little tummy! Isn’t it cheerful and sunshiney?”
“Baby fat is number one in the world.”
……
……
Then she stepped onto the store’s digital scale and checked her weight.
‘57.5!!!’
Great. 57.5 jin… wait, no. That’s kilograms! KG!!!
With her height at 168 cm, this weight was technically in the “healthy” range—but that was just standard.
To meet the “beauty” standard, she’d need to get down to 51 kg, around 102 jin.
And to look even better—health be damned—her weight would need to dip below 100 jin.
She was over 15 jin (7.5 kg) above that goal!
“How do I train for beautiful abs?!” Xia Hua frantically searched online.
She honestly didn’t care about this kind of thing before. Pretty faces are a dime a dozen, she used to think, but adorable baby fat?
That’s rare and special. But that was when she was still a guy.
Now… this terrifying thing was happening to her.
She could accept baby fat on someone else, sure.
She could even admire it and offer words of encouragement like, “That’s cute! That’s your charm, your individuality!”
But the moment that squishy flesh showed up on her own body—
“I’ve decided!” Xia Hua declared with conviction. “Aside from going back to e-commerce, I’m adding a new mission: destroy baby fat, win abs.”
“Beauty is beauty, sure—”
“But I’m just partial to those defined lines.”
“This will be the last good dinner I eat.”
“Damn that office worker… he really got to me…” she muttered, chomping down ferociously on her “staff meal.”
While she ate, she stared at the fat-burning aerobics video she’d pulled up.
Just watching it made her tired.
She proceeded to perform a round of what could only be called brain-only workouts—aka “cloud fitness.”
And honestly? She felt like she’d already lost several pounds. The results were extraordinary.