1 Waking Up in Another Body
Nhiem Nhiem had suffered from mild depression and a strange phobia of human contact since she was very young.
She wasn’t afraid of blood, or pain—only people. A mere touch could send her trembling, instinctively backing away. But instead of appearing weak, she learned to hide it. She built herself a cold shell: vacant eyes, indifferent expression, a distant aura. To others, she just seemed aloof and unapproachable—no one realized the constant fear and exhaustion behind it.
The world was full of judgment. She’d heard people whisper behind her back:
“She’s weird… probably crazy.”
“Her eyes look like someone with issues. So arrogant and aggressive.”
She hated people. Hated pitying glances. Hated curiosity disguised as concern. And after yet another exhausting day devoted to capitalism, as she absentmindedly crossed the street, a car lost control and slammed into her…
…
When she opened her eyes again—
Blinding white light. A strange ceiling. She thought she was in a hospital, but then an unfamiliar flood of memories rushed through her mind like a movie on rewind.
A name that wasn’t hers.
A voice beside her ear:
“Miss Nhiem, please don’t get agitated…”
She sat up with a start, panicking. Staggered into the bathroom. Stared into the mirror—and saw a face that wasn’t hers. Porcelain skin, wide eyes, long curled lashes, soft rosy lips… a flawless beauty.
She collapsed to the cold floor, arms wrapped around her legs, trembling all over.
She had transmigrated into someone else’s body.
Then she remembered—the romance novel she had read before she died.
The male lead: Khuong Nhien, a cold, distant CEO obsessed only with work. He was eventually drawn to the female lead—a cheerful, strong-willed girl who stayed optimistic despite hardships. Their love story was filled with heartbreak, misunderstandings, and emotional scars.
And she—Nhiem Nhiem—had transmigrated into the story’s second female lead. A disposable villain. The unwanted fiancée.
The daughter of the prestigious Nhiem family, a perfect match for Khuong Nhien’s status—but the engagement was never his choice. This girl had played the sweet, obedient act in front of his parents, earning their favor.
In truth, she constantly clung to him, making him so uncomfortable that he tried to call off the engagement. When rejected, she’d cry and pretend to be pitiful in front of his parents. Khuong Nhien saw right through it and found her utterly repulsive.
Later, as the male lead began to fall for the heroine, the second female lead tried to sabotage their relationship. But her schemes were exposed by the male lead’s childhood friend. Disgusted, Khuong Nhien joined forces with him, bringing down the Nhiem family and leaving her with nothing.
Her ending was disgrace, ruin, and misery.
Now, she had awakened in that very body.
She trembled from head to toe. She didn’t want to end up poor and desperate. Her past life had been hard enough. She was terrified of what lay ahead.
A knock came at the door.
She jumped. The hospital room door creaked open. A woman in her forties walked in. Her face was carefully maintained, skin smooth and wrinkle-free—gentle, but with tired, worried eyes.
“Nhiem Nhiem, you’re awake?”
The girl sat quietly on the bed, eyes calm as she looked at the woman—expressionless, emotionless.
[She must be the mother of this body. That flawless beauty must’ve come from her…]
The woman approached, her heart tightening.
She was Nhiem Nhiem’s biological mother. But the two had always been distant.
When Nhiem Nhiem was young, both parents were busy with work. Her older brother had gone abroad. She grew up alone, raised by nannies in a spacious, empty house. Whenever her parents returned, she reacted indifferently. No hugs, no conversation, no childish affection.
Back then, the mother thought, “She’s just a quiet child. It’s her personality.”
Only after the recent accident, when doctors diagnosed Nhiem Nhiem with depression, did she realize—what she had dismissed as “personality” was actually a fracture they had caused.
[If the girl could hear her thoughts, she’d object right away.]
[No, auntie. I’m depressed. Your daughter faked a suicide attempt to manipulate the male lead, but ended up actually falling… which is when I transmigrated.]
The woman approached slowly, seeing her daughter still sitting there, lost in thought.
“Nhiem Nhiem, why won’t you speak? I’m worried about you…”
She reached out, wanting to embrace her—as if trying to make up for years of absence.
But the girl instinctively leaned away, softly but firmly:
“Mom… please don’t hug me. I’m not used to being touched.”
The woman froze.
For a moment, her heart clenched. She looked at her daughter, full of guilt. Her expression softened, and she sat at the edge of the bed, placing her hands neatly on her lap, keeping her distance.
“It’s okay… I understand. I won’t touch you again.”
She looked at the girl’s face—so different from before. Not in appearance, but in the deepening emotional distance.
“As long as you’re okay… I’ll make it up to you, little by little.”
Her voice was gentle.
“I’m here now. Everything will be alright.”
Nhiem Nhiem didn’t respond. She leaned back against the pillow, eyelids falling shut—while her mind swirled with tangled thoughts.
The woman sat there, quietly watching her daughter—the girl she never truly understood, never really got close to. But from now on… she would try.
