Reversed Life: Chapter 37 - A Name That Shouldn’t Belong Here
Chapter 37: A Name That Shouldn’t Belong Here
Father Mu just kept rambling on and on, praising that kid who’d appeared out of nowhere from his looks to his character, practically elevating him to the heavens. The more Qiao Nan listened, the more irritated he became. He couldn’t help snapping back a couple of times, but the Mu couple seemed to mistake their daughter’s reaction for shyness and only grew more enthusiastic.
Faced with their gentle gazes and smiling faces directed at him, Qiao Nan found himself unable to curse no matter how much he wanted to. Instead, he only got angrier himself, so in the end, he carried his things back to his room to get out of sight—and proceeded to take his frustration out on the stacks of exercise books and study guides spread across the desk.
“XX College Entrance Exam Simulations,” “XX Curved Problem-Solving Secrets,” “XX Secret Test Papers,” “XX Study Secrets,” “Thirty Days to Consolidate XXXX”…
A tension he hadn’t even felt back when taking middle school entrance exams now pressed down on him densely through those books. Qiao Nan felt like he was genuinely going to lose half his life this time and collapsed gloomily onto the bed.
He really couldn’t accept it.
This was ridiculous. He, the mighty school tyrant, was supposed to be cool, domineering, and untouchable. Hugging books and grinding through them desperately like Mu Xiangxiang—did that make any sense? That was the kind of thing nerds did. If Brother Nan did it, it would completely destroy his image, okay?
Besides, why should he help Mu Xiangxiang maintain her grades? He wasn’t happy about switching bodies with her either, alright? Neither of them had any obligation to do anything for the other. Mu Xiangxiang didn’t even work out anymore—she’d practically ruined his abs. And as the rightful owner of those abs, had he complained about it?
So what if the Mu parents attended the parent-teacher conference? Back at No. 12 High School, he’d handed in blank exam papers plenty of times without the slightest guilt. He’d never worried about his father or older brother finding out how terrible his grades were. Compared to them, this pair of old folks from the Mu family didn’t even have as much presence as Xiao Lou, the assistant by Qiao Yuanshan’s side. Was Brother Nan, a legendary school bully, really supposed to be afraid of them?
His gaze lingered on the circular ceiling light as he lay there in a daze, while the furnishings in the darkened room slowly entered the corner of his vision.
The new room looked spacious. In fact, it was the master bedroom of the Mu family’s new apartment. The place had three bedrooms and two living rooms, but only two of the bedrooms faced south. The Mu parents had given the larger one to their daughter and the other south-facing room to their son, while insisting on taking the only north-facing room for themselves.
When Qiao Nan had first heard about the arrangement, he’d been extremely unwilling. Even though his relationship with his own family had always been poor, he still understood basic principles. What kind of family let the child sleep in the master bedroom while the parents took the smaller room?
But when he voiced his objections, the usually compliant Mu parents became unexpectedly firm. Father Mu had even gotten angry. In the end, Qiao Nan still couldn’t outstubborn that skinny-looking old man whose bones were full of determination.
He still remembered exactly what Father Mu had said back then— “You just focus on studying well. Don’t worry about all this messy nonsense!”
Qiao Nan could tell that Father Mu had always felt guilty for not being able to provide his talented, well-behaved daughter with a good study environment in the past. Because on the very second day after moving, he’d happily brought over workers from a furniture store and added a huge bookshelf and desk to his daughter’s new room.
And now, that entire setup stood silently in the darkness. Qiao Nan hadn’t turned on the lights or drawn the curtains. Moonlight and the glow of countless homes streamed through the large south-facing window, spilling across the polished wooden surfaces that were obviously expensive.
Staring at those books in the dark that looked like death warrants, Qiao Nan’s mind was filled with one thought: what kind of sins had he committed in a past life to encounter the Mu family, his natural nemeses?
Yet after a long while, he still climbed up irritably, sat at the desk, yanked at his hair, and opened the books.
****
As Father Mu and Mother Mu’s income increased, the Mu family dinner table became more and more lavish.
The fragrance of food filled the small dining room. Qiao Nan, dizzy from doing practice problems, emerged rubbing his head just in time to see Mother Mu carrying out a pot of fish soup from the kitchen with a smile on her face. Only then did he remember another equally important matter: after Yingcheng High’s second-year unified exams, there would also be a parent-teacher meeting.
He sat down and took a sip of Father Mu’s rich, aromatic crucian carp soup. Just as he was about to speak, he overheard the couple chatting about Mother Mu needing to make a trip to City X next month.
Qiao Nan froze. “What are you going to City X for?”
The husband and wife, who had been huddled together discussing what clothes would suit City X’s weather, finally noticed their daughter. Father Mu broke into a bright grin. “Dad realized our stall’s ingredients are getting used up pretty fast. Buying from City A’s market is starting to get a bit too expensive. Your Uncle X introduced us to a poultry farm in City X that can supply us directly. Since my legs aren’t convenient, I’m having your mom go take a look. If it works out, we can probably save quite a bit on ingredient costs.”
Mentioning this naturally led to the Mu family’s new business.
At first, they’d only sold rice noodle rolls at a breakfast stall in Youth Plaza. They left home early every morning and usually wrapped up around ten o’clock, leaving the rest of the day free to relax at home.
The breakfast stall brought in good income—steady daily profits in the four digits. And aside from the rush during business hours, rice noodle rolls didn’t require too much prep work afterward. This kind of lifestyle—working half a day, resting half a day, while earning excellent money—would make plenty of small business owners in City A envious. But after moving into the new home, Father Mu suddenly seemed to get fired up for some reason.
This was far too lazy!
So he quickly came up with a new business idea: selling roasted and braised meats.
Basically, he’d braise chickens, geese, and the like at home, bring them out together with the rice noodle roll ingredients in the morning, then continue selling them for a while after breakfast hours ended.
Youth Plaza always had decent foot traffic throughout the day. Father Mu’s original thought was simply that wasting the entire afternoon after breakfast service was too much of a pity, so he wanted to make use of the time.
Unexpectedly, the new products became extraordinarily popular. At first, Father Mu had strictly packed away the braised poultry and only put it out after cleaning up the rice noodle roll stall. But as returning customers increased, that was no longer possible—often before breakfast hours even ended, the chicken, duck, and goose meat meant for afternoon sales would already be sold out.
The amount of ingredients Father Mu brought home every day grew larger and larger. The pots in the new kitchen became bigger and bigger too, constantly giving off the fragrance of braising broth twenty-four hours a day. It was obvious the couple planned to seriously develop this business. After all, the extra income was so substantial that it rivaled the breakfast stall itself.
Qiao Nan picked up a piece of goose meat from the table and completely understood its popularity. The delicate, tender fibers of the meat were soaked through with Father Mu’s specially blended braising sauce, and as he chewed, layer upon layer of flavor gradually unfolded. It was enjoyment that spread from the nose all the way to the tip of the tongue.
Even the mental exhaustion brought on by studying eased considerably.
He didn’t have any particular thoughts about the couple’s business expansion, but he did unexpectedly realize from Father Mu’s words that they actually had good business sense. Before their business had even grown large, they already knew how to strategically control costs. So he casually asked when Mother Mu planned to leave.
Inspecting ingredient suppliers wasn’t a trivial matter. Mother Mu seemed likely to stay in City X for several days. Qiao Nan calculated the timing and realized, unfortunately, it would probably coincide exactly with Yingcheng’s parent-teacher meeting.
Seeing him ask so many detailed questions, Father Mu added food to his bowl while asking, “What’s wrong? Is there something you want your mom to bring back from City X?”
Qiao Nan shook his head. He’d originally been reluctant to trouble Father Mu with something like a parent-teacher meeting because of his mobility issues, but now there was no helping it. “No, it’s just that after our school’s unified exams next month, there’s going to be a parent meeting. Looks like I’ll have to trouble you to make the trip.”
The moment he finished speaking, Father Mu—who had been leaning over to serve him food—suddenly froze. “M-me go?”
“Yeah.” Seeing his expression, Qiao Nan was just about to ask what was wrong when Father Mu abruptly set down his chopsticks and stood up stiffly. “I-I’ll call the poultry farm in City X. Your mom can leave after attending your parent meeting.”
Qiao Nan blinked in confusion as he watched the man’s difficult retreating figure—his ankle clearly still bothering him. “Why make things so troublesome? You’ll already be in City A anyway. You can just stop by then, right? Parent meetings are usually in the afternoon. It won’t delay business.”
Father Mu looked back at him, his expression shifting slightly, but he still quickly retreated into the room.
Qiao Nan could only turn toward Mother Mu. She sighed softly, her expression tinged with sadness, yet said nothing. She merely shook her head silently at him.
*****
Night.
Mu Xiangxiang rested her chin in her hands as she stared at the two apples on the desk.
The warm light of the study room spilled over the two pitiful little fruits. Mu Xiangxiang reached out a finger and lightly touched them. Her fingertips felt their hard, cold surface, and once again her mind filled with the image of her mother stuffing them into her arms earlier—with that lost, panicked expression on her face.
Why the panic? Why the melancholy?
The lost expression on her mother’s face at the elevator entrance had truly seemed reluctant to let her leave. Dad had also said that seeing her made him think of his “daughter.” How wonderful. Even after changing bodies, there was still an indescribable bond connecting them.
She wondered how Dad was doing now. Did his sprained ankle still hurt? The rich aroma that had drifted out the moment the door opened was so familiar that Mu Xiangxiang hadn’t even needed to think before knowing it had to be her father’s cooking. There was a flavor unique to her father in every dish he made, a flavor that had been deeply engraved into Mu Xiangxiang’s memory many, many years ago.
The image of his grayer temples and much more spirited appearance lingered stubbornly before her eyes. Was it because he’d started working again? At that moment, Mu Xiangxiang felt she vaguely understood what Qiao Nan had once meant when he said, “What a man needs is affirmation.”
Her nose stung. She pulled out two tissues and carefully wiped the apples clean. Through their faintly reddened skins, it almost felt as though she were touching the warmth of her family.
Suddenly, her phone rang loudly. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the screen.
It was Qiao Nan. Only then did Mu Xiangxiang remember she still had an informant back home. She answered the call, just about to ask how her father’s ankle was doing.
But Qiao Nan spoke first. “Hey? Mu Xiangxiang, I need to ask you something.”
Qiao Nan had been trying to study while replaying Father Mu’s reaction in his head, but it had left him completely unable to focus. And since Mother Mu refused to explain anything, he had no choice but to call Mu Xiangxiang.
Mu Xiangxiang paused. “What is it?”
Then, as she listened to Qiao Nan’s explanation, she fell into a long silence.
Memories she had thought long forgotten suddenly surfaced from the depths of her mind without warning.
Even the next day, when she stepped off the bus arriving at Yingcheng Foreign Languages School, Mu Xiangxiang was still immersed in those memories.
Yingcheng was unusually lively. After all, it was the annual interschool tournament, and even the school had thoughtfully taken the students’ excitement into account by canceling all afternoon classes. Students from both the middle school and high school divisions poured out across campus, scattering into every corner. Mu Xiangxiang was noticed almost the moment she entered the school gates.
Feeling the omnipresent attention directed at Qiao Nan’s body from all around her, Mu Xiangxiang’s emotions became complicated.
Compared to the nervousness of being discovered, what she felt more was probably melancholy.
Qiao Nan had already been gone for over a year, while “Mu Xiangxiang” had spent even longer here in the high school division.
Yet those bright, flamboyant smiling faces around her had always seemed separated from her by an uncrossable gulf. Ever since entering this school, Mu Xiangxiang had never dared hope she could make friends.
Or perhaps she had already realized her own difference back in middle school.
The previous day, Qiao Nan had told her about Yingcheng’s upcoming unified exams and parent-teacher meeting, and asked why Father Mu was so resistant to going to school.
How was Mu Xiangxiang supposed to answer that? In truth, it had long been an unspoken rule in the Mu family that her and her younger brother Mu Song’s parent-teacher meetings were always attended by their mother. Even if Father Mu came, he usually waited outside the school gates instead of appearing before teachers and students.
As for the reason—
It had probably been during the second semester of her first year in middle school.
Looking out over Yingcheng’s spacious campus, Mu Xiangxiang’s gaze grew distant as she remembered that day. She had been supporting her father as they exited the teachers’ office. He’d been holding her perfect-score report card and smiling so broadly his mouth couldn’t close. Then suddenly, they’d run straight into a large group of classmates chasing and shouting at one another.
She could no longer remember clearly what those classmates looked like. Because after that, throughout the rest of middle school, she never spoke another word to them.
But the shock in their eyes and their thoughtless exclamation still pierced her chest like knives even now—
“Wow! The top student in the whole class—who would’ve thought your dad’s disabled!”
Then they’d started laughing and shoving one another while imitating Father Mu’s limp, only scattering after the homeroom teacher rushed out of the office upon hearing the commotion.
Mu Xiangxiang would never forget the trembling that passed through her father’s body in that moment. Furious to the point her eyes turned red, she’d wanted to rush over and fight them, but her father held her tightly back. Father and daughter walked silently for a long time until finally her father painfully crouched halfway down and hugged her. “It’s okay, Xiangxiang. It’s okay. Don’t be sad. Don’t be angry.”
How could she not be sad? How could she not be angry? At the time, Mu Xiangxiang had clutched the back of her father’s clothes and burst into tears— Those classmates had hurt her father.
After that, Dad never appeared at her school again. During the second and third years of middle school, every activity requiring parents to attend was handled by Mother Mu instead.
Yet the news that “Top student Mu Xiangxiang has a disabled father” quickly spread through the class anyway. At the time, she’d attended City A No. 1 Middle School, one of the city’s top junior highs. Competition for direct admission into the affiliated high school was fierce. Most of the students in the advanced class had known each other since elementary school, while she alone had suddenly transferred in from some obscure school and steadily seized first place in the entire grade, becoming the model student teachers constantly used to motivate others.
Mu Xiangxiang had become like a target set up in plain sight. Every time a teacher praised her, a handful of students would start making weird noises, then volunteer themselves to imitate the way her father walked right in front of her.
As for the rest of the classmates, although they didn’t join in, they always chose to watch coldly from the sidelines.
At first, Mu Xiangxiang had still felt anger. But after seeing it happen enough times, even her emotions gradually stopped reacting.
In the end, those children raised in ordinary healthy families were fundamentally different from her. Her poverty, her parents, even her excellent grades—when she failed to fit in with those around her, all of them became things others could mock.
Those middle school classmates, who possessed nothing remarkable besides decent grades, already held such arrogance over her. So what about Yingcheng?
From the very moment she entered the school gates carrying a cloth backpack unlike everyone else’s and noticed the startled gazes directed at her, Mu Xiangxiang had already given up struggling.
Poverty couldn’t be hidden. Her speech, her mannerisms, her clothes—there was nowhere for her to escape.
So rather than trying to approach others only to end in misery, she preferred to stay silent and safe forever. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t join conversations about trips to Hawaii. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t invited to Jiang Yan’s birthday party like the rest of the class. Having no friends didn’t matter either.
Because “Mu Xiangxiang,” this person, this body, had never possessed anything worthy of others’ admiration in the first place.
Calmly, Mu Xiangxiang withdrew her gaze from the groups of laughing, joking classmates. Someone came hurrying toward her in the distance. After studying the face for a moment, she realized it looked familiar.
Jiang Hai stood before her with a conflicted expression. Staring at the cold and distant “Brother Nan,” he braced his hands on his knees and panted for a moment before speaking. “Uh, Nan—… Mu Xiangxiang asked me to come pick you up.”
Mu Xiangxiang had already heard from Qiao Nan that Jiang Hai had guessed the truth, so for once she didn’t feel much pressure facing one of Qiao Nan’s acquaintances. Politely, she thanked him. “Thank you. Where is he?”
Naturally, she meant Qiao Nan, who had insisted the day before that she absolutely had to come, only to disappear now.
Meeting those clear eyes, Jiang Hai involuntarily pictured the beautiful face that now belonged to his brother Nan. A strange awkwardness rose within him. He coughed lightly. “He’s at the stadium, busy preparing before the game.”
Mu Xiangxiang froze. “Preparing for wha—”
Jiang Hai also froze. “You didn’t know? Nan—uh, he… he’s playing today.”
Mu Xiangxiang: “!!!!”
Even after Jiang Hai led her to the basketball court stands, Mu Xiangxiang still hadn’t recovered from the shock that Qiao Nan was actually going to play using her body. Jiang Hai found her a seat. “This is, uh… the spot he told me to save for you.”
Still stunned, Mu Xiangxiang nodded absentmindedly. “Thank you.”
Jiang Hai scratched his head, once again made uncomfortable by the sudden politeness coming from a face he knew so well. Then he quickly remembered how irritable Brother Nan had been these past few days. Afraid he’d get beaten up if he returned too late, he didn’t dare linger. After a few hurried reminders, he rushed off.
Quite a crowd had already gathered around the court, especially the cheerleader girls. Mu Xiangxiang recognized several familiar faces among them—Fang Lingli, for example, as well as a few rich, pretty classmates from her own class whom she had barely ever spoken to.
The girls at Yingcheng were as obsessed as ever with the school’s star figures. Long before this, Mu Xiangxiang had already seen them crowding around the gym screaming themselves hoarse whenever Qiao Nan and Jiang Hai practiced basketball.
A headache started brewing. She hadn’t expected Qiao Nan to pull something this reckless.
Yingcheng’s basketball court—this kind of place, where countless eyes gathered—belonged to people from an entirely different world. He wasn’t “Qiao Nan” right now. Barging into a place like this in “Mu Xiangxiang’s” body… was he afraid life had been too easy lately?
Even though Mu Xiangxiang lacked social connections, as a girl she had still witnessed plenty of the exclusion and rivalry among Yingcheng’s female students. Those arrogant rich girls ranked each other according to family background even within their own circles. Now a poor student they usually looked down on was suddenly jumping around right in front of them—what would they think?
And if rumors started spreading, attracting people like Fang Lingli…
Mu Xiangxiang immediately pulled out her phone and called him, but Qiao Nan refused to answer. If she’d known the way from the stands to the backstage area, she probably would’ve rushed there already to stop that impulsive idiot.
Unfortunately, time showed no mercy toward her anxiety. If anything, it seemed to move even faster. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the previously relaxed atmosphere inside the basketball court became tense.
Led by Guan Ziming, the Jiahe High basketball team from City C appeared in perfect formation, all dressed in matching uniforms. The energetic young boys instantly became the center of everyone’s attention.
Holding a basketball, Guan Ziming stood in the middle of the court and swept his gaze across the audience. When his eyes landed on Mu Xiangxiang, he froze for a moment.
“Holy shit! Brother Guan! It’s Qiao Nan—how the hell does he still dare show up?!” someone behind him exclaimed, face changing dramatically as he immediately moved forward to cause trouble.
Guan Ziming raised a hand to stop him. His feelings were complicated. He and Qiao Nan had been rivals for years. Aside from constantly clashing on the court, they’d never gotten along in real life either due to their respective families. In fact, when Qiao Nan had been driven out of Yingcheng before, Guan Ziming had felt pretty satisfied about it. But ever since that night at Waihai Village, where he’d spent the entire evening serving Qiao Nan dessert trays, something about his mentality had changed.
It felt like getting into a one-on-one fight with someone and then sitting down together afterward for hotpot. Suddenly, the emotions became strange. Now that they were meeting again, he couldn’t even summon any anger.
So he merely told his troublemaking teammate flatly, “Shut up.”
Then he kicked Big Dog, who was craning his neck toward the entrance. “Can you act like a human being for once instead of embarrassing our school?”
“Bro, be reasonable! My goddess is about to come on court!!” Big Dog scratched at himself excitedly. “And it’s not just me! Look at the women in the stands—their drool’s practically longer than mine!”
Guan Ziming: “...”
He had access to Yingcheng’s school forum, so of course, he knew about the topics that had exploded there lately. Thinking about all those posts and replies full of uncontrollable excitement—many supposedly written by girls—calling the “school beauty” awesome, he genuinely didn’t know what to say.
What the hell was wrong with Yingcheng’s girls? Instead of chasing the school heartthrobs, they were chasing the school beauty?
Thus, the Jiahe basketball team fell briefly silent. A moment later, movement finally came from the entrance. Yingcheng’s school team slowly emerged under Jiang Hai’s lead, wearing uniforms in another color. They lined up opposite Jiahe’s team, immediately triggering a wave of shrieks from the Yingcheng girls in the stands.
Mu Xiangxiang didn’t spot Qiao Nan among them and instantly let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, thank goodness. At least Qiao Nan still had some awareness of what “Mu Xiangxiang” was actually capable of.
But before her stiff shoulders could even relax, the next second, after some inaudible communication between the players on both sides, they all simultaneously turned toward the entrance again.
Following the sound of the doors opening came calm, steady footsteps. Then, within everyone’s sight, appeared a short-haired girl in a black jacket, walking forward at an unhurried pace. She looked utterly lazy, even her gait carrying an air of careless swagger. After stopping in place, her expression unchanged, she merely raised an arm and provocatively grabbed the zipper of her jacket.
The entire arena fell silent. All those cheerleader girls who’d been wildly excited over Jiang Hai’s appearance suddenly shut their mouths. Standing together, they wore solemn expressions as every sharp gaze converged onto a single point.
Mu Xiangxiang’s pupils contracted at this realization. This is over, she thought.
But in the next instant, something completely beyond her imagination happened—
The girl yanked down the zipper in one motion, revealing the loose crimson basketball jersey beneath. Then, staring directly at the opposing players, she arrogantly stripped off the jacket and flung it aside.
As the black jacket sailed off the court, the deathly silent basketball arena seemed as though someone had suddenly flipped on a power switch. The first scream erupted without warning.
Then the second. Then the third. More and more voices joined in. The girls’ shrill cries merged together, gradually becoming unified and impossible to ignore—
“Mu Xiangxiang! Mu Xiangxiang! Mu Xiangxiang! Mu Xiangxiang!”
The real Mu Xiangxiang: “…………”
She froze stiffly for a moment before turning toward the railings in shock. Behind them were still familiar faces she recognized. And yet the owners of those faces now seemed so unfamiliar she scarcely dared acknowledge them.
Because all of them, together, were screaming a name that should never have belonged here.
And the moment she realized that— what rose abruptly after it
was the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her chest.
------------------
Author’s Note:
Brother Nan: [showing off fancy footwork][completely unaware of his own chuuni behavior][acting calm while internally smug]: Damn, I’m handsome as hell.
Yes, this whole act is extremely chuuni, but please understand—they’re a bunch of high school students.
Also, some of Xiangxiang’s emotional knots with her parents are things they need to untangle themselves. On this point, Brother Nan can’t replace her.
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