Reborn to Make Them Suffer and Regret

I stood frozen, suddenly realizing—the scene in front of me was the night before the college entrance exam.

I pinched myself. It hurt. Tears fell instantly.

I had really been reborn.

The laughter around me faded. The ones who had just mocked me now fell silent.

“Did we go too far? She’s only doing this for our own good…” someone murmured.

Sophie’s eyes turned red as she choked out, “Emma, I didn’t know you hated me so much that you’d curse everyone to fail. We’re in the Rocket Class. How could we mess up just for celebrating my birthday?”

Ethan stepped up, shielding her protectively, his eyes full of disdain.

“Don’t worry,” he sneered, “we’re not like you—so scared of an exam you run to the toilet a dozen times, and then still do badly because of it.”

“It’s just the college entrance exam. Geniuses like us can breeze through it.”

The class burst into laughter.

I clenched my fists. My chest tightened.

During the class placement exam in our second year, the pressure wrecked my stomach. I kept needing the bathroom, constantly interrupting my concentration. I didn’t make the Rocket Class cut-off.

After the test, I hid in the library, silently crying.

Back then, Ethan had found me. He gently wiped away my tears, concern written all over his face.

“I asked Auntie to make you some porridge. I know you’re upset. But if you didn’t do well this time, you’ll do better next time. I’ll help you catch up. We’ll go to the same university.”

I truly believed our quiet romance would lead to something beautiful.

Then Sophie transferred in. Everything changed.

I took a deep breath and relaxed my hands.

Ignoring their laughter, I calmly packed my bag.

“You’re right,” I said quietly. “In that case, I hope you all have fun.”

They were stunned. I didn’t yell or cry like they’d expected.

The laughter froze. The room was quiet.

Some students awkwardly shrugged and changed the subject, discussing drinks.

“Fruit wine’s only three percent. No way that’ll mess up the exam.”

I scoffed silently.

That bar’s “fruit wine” could knock out a grown man with one glass.

Dad’s hospital had seen more than a few teens come in with alcohol poisoning—most from that place.

In my last life, I’d tried to stop them because of that.

In this one, I wouldn’t waste my breath.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, ready to leave.

To my surprise, Ethan didn’t look pleased—he frowned.

As I turned to go, he suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“No. You’re coming with us.”

The room went still. Everyone stared.

“Why would she go?” someone asked in disbelief. “She’ll ruin the mood.”

Sophie chimed in softly, eyes wide and voice full of gentle concern.

“What if Emma comes tonight and bombs the exam tomorrow, then blames me? That would be so unfair…”

Her tone was sweet, but her eyes betrayed her fear.

She was afraid I’d actually go with Ethan.

If I were there, how could she get him drunk and pin her pregnancy on him?

Ethan scoffed.

“Don’t forget who she is. Remember the Dragon Boat Festival? The English teacher forgot to assign homework, and she just had to call and ask for test papers—then messaged everyone one by one and ruined the holiday.”

The room went completely silent.

Several students glanced at me with mixed expressions—disdain, irritation, discomfort.

I smiled bitterly at myself.

That had been a practice test from a top provincial school. Last year, many of its questions appeared in the real exam.

Our teacher had gone out of her way to bring it to us to help improve our scores.

I was afraid no one else would know, so I contacted them one by one.

What I thought was responsibility—they saw as meddling.

What I thought was helping—they viewed as a nuisance.

I realized then how little they understood, how easily they twisted intentions.

This time, I wouldn’t try to be the hero.

Let them drink.

Let them celebrate.

Let them face the consequences they so eagerly invited.

I would choose myself.

This life, I would not waste it on people who never truly saw me.