Is Self-Redemption Really That Hard? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 1

“The delivery has been placed in the cabinet. You can scan the code with your phone to collect it,” Lu Wuqi said smoothly, adding, “If you encounter any problems while eating, feel free to contact me at any time.”

After hanging up, Lu Wuqi put her helmet back on, tucking down the ponytail she had tied not long ago. Then, braving the harshest sun of the summer noon, she walked over to the electric scooter marked with the milk tea shop’s logo.

Having learned her lesson yesterday, when she had sat down too quickly and burned herself on the scorching seat, she first tested the heat of the black cushion with her hand. Only after confirming it was safe did she sit down and start the scooter.

The scooter, humming forward, sent waves of hot wind against her, teaching her what it truly meant to be scorched by a heatwave.

Within just three minutes, bead-sized drops of sweat rolled down from her brow and hairline, soaking into the thick white T-shirt she was wearing.

How long had it been since she last felt this kind of drenched, exhausting sweat?

Five years? Ten? Or twenty?

Lu Wuqi couldn’t quite remember. All she knew was that after being adopted by the Lu family, her quality of life—food, clothing, housing, and travel—had risen several notches, making her very different from others.

【Host, please note: there are only twenty-three days left until university registration, and your total savings amount to just 239 yuan.】

The system, calling itself “Redemption,” gave her a gentle reminder.

Lu Wuqi gave a perfunctory nod, then hurried back into the milk tea shop, waiting for the next batch of orders.

If she hadn’t personally crossed over from another world, she never would have believed in the existence of parallel universes—let alone that another version of herself could be living so miserably.

After all, money was the easiest thing in the world to obtain—at least in her opinion. All it took was a ruthless heart and a strong hand, and you could rake it in by the bucketful.

Stepping through the automatic doors into the shop, she was immediately greeted by air conditioning set at a refreshing twenty-four degrees. The cool air loosened her furrowed brows and cleared her head.

She was no longer the Lu Wuqi with more money than she knew what to do with. Now, she was Lu Wuqi, who couldn’t scrape together her tuition fees and had been forced to break up with her girlfriend.

“Xiao Lu, this batch is all for Huafeng Community—three orders, sixteen drinks in total. Hurry and take them over, the customers are urging.”

She had barely sat down for a minute before the next assignment was handed out.

“Got it.” Lu Wuqi replied, cross-checking the drinks and quantities on her phone before loading all sixteen cups into the delivery box strapped to her scooter’s footboard.

This was her second day in this new world—and also her second day as a delivery rider for the milk tea shop.

The job wasn’t something she had found on her own. It had been arranged by the body’s original owner—another version of herself.

Each order came with a ten-percent commission. Sixteen cups of milk tea would earn her around twenty yuan.

Originally, Lu Wuqi never had to work so hard. Nor would she have needed to break up with her girlfriend, Lan Xu, via text message.

But just a week ago, the student loan she had applied for was gambled away by Father Lu—and not only that, he racked up tens of thousands more in debt. Her mother, who had worked as a cashier in a supermarket, was fired for repeated mistakes, leaving the Lu family with no income at all.

Upon learning of her family’s debt, this world’s Lu Wuqi had chosen to break up with Lan Xu, who had been admitted to the same university. The reason was obvious—she didn’t want to drag down a girlfriend with a promising future.

Although Lan Xu had been furious upon receiving the breakup text, when her repeated questions went unanswered, she still told her: As long as you apologize before university starts and write a 10,000-word reflection, I’ll forgive you for saying those words.

That sliver of hope reignited something in Lu Wuqi. Perhaps, in the last month before school started, she could try to work a miracle.

After trying her hand at distributing flyers and a few part-time jobs, the original Lu Wuqi had finally chosen this milk tea delivery work, with wages settled daily.

But the heavens hadn’t given her much of a chance. After deducting daily expenses, all she could save was around one hundred yuan a day. Even working right up until the day before school started, she’d only manage to save about 2,500 yuan—less than half the tuition, not even a drop in the bucket compared to the debt.

And then came the final blow: just before the semester began, her unemployed mother suddenly collapsed at home. At the hospital, she was diagnosed with a tumor. That was the last straw that broke the original Lu Wuqi.

Hmm. Looking at it this way, perhaps the decision to break up and not burden her girlfriend hadn’t been entirely wrong?

【Host, have you forgotten Lan Xu’s ultimate fate? Upon graduation, she was blackmailed with her chastity and forced into marriage. She even had an abortion, which left her body irreparably damaged. She didn’t live to see fifty. Don’t you think this ending needs to be changed?】

The Redemption System popped up again, unable to hold back, its tone unusually agitated.

“Really? Then it doesn’t sound like her future was all that bright after all.” Lu Wuqi replied casually. Having never experienced love herself, she couldn’t quite empathize.

What did it feel like to love someone? Could that feeling really bring more joy than becoming the richest person in the world?

But after speaking those words, a faint ache throbbed in her chest, enough to make her pause at a red light and press her hand against her heart.

So this was what it meant to ache for someone? Such a strange, unfamiliar sensation.

【Host, even if not for others, shouldn’t you do it for yourself?】 The Redemption System softened its tone. 【If you don’t go to university, your fate will be to work twelve to thirteen hours a day in a factory, and after sending your mother off, you’ll collapse from overwork and die young.】

【Your body won’t even be cremated right away. Relatives will exploit it until it rots before sending it to the crematorium.】it added.

Lu Wuqi didn’t respond aloud, but inside, she dismissed the system’s words with indifference.

This was nothing more than the price one had to pay for making the wrong choice, for making the wrong move. Without the courage to change, the ending could only ever look like this.

Even if the one who wound up with such a tragic fate was another version of herself, Lu Wuqi would only feel it was pathetic—never enough to stir idle sympathy or compel her to embrace that other self’s life wholesale.

As if.

Lu Wuqi had to deliver food to Huafeng Community three times that day. The first two trips were small—three cups and then four. The remaining nine cups, however, all belonged to a single user with the plain username Fa Cai (literally “getting rich”).

She had the sense to put two and two together. Who else would order nine milk teas at once during summer break? With such a down-to-earth username, eight or nine times out of ten, it had to be a student.

And Huafeng Community was barely ten minutes from her old high school. That meant the odds were high this “student” might very well be her classmate.

“Hello, y-your milk tea. Please, um check the order.” Lu Wuqi stammered as she spoke.

The moment she saw Lan Xu, a rush of overwhelming emotion flooded her mind. All the detachment she’d worn like armor—her lofty, indifferent attitude toward another version of herself—vanished without a trace. In its place surged nothing but nervousness and panic.

Her carefully measured tone deserted her. Standing before the girl in a crisp white blouse and a plaid skirt, her hair tied in a bun with a simple band, fresh-faced and delicate, Lu Wuqi’s breathing faltered, her heart raced, and everything in her expression screamed she wanted to bolt.

She shoved the milk tea into Lan Xu’s hands, took a sharp breath, and spun on her heel, ready to make a break for the elevator.

“Lu Wuqi, why did you send me that text?” Lan Xu asked. Holding the milk tea in one hand, she reached out with the other to catch Lu Wuqi’s wrist.

Lan Xu stood a little over 1.6 meters; Lu Wuqi was just over 1.7. The ten-centimeter gap forced Lan Xu to tilt her chin slightly just to meet her eyes.

She saw it all—sweat plastering stray strands of hair to Lu Wuqi’s temples, sun-reddened cheeks and arms, and those still-bright eyes.

“There’s no reason. It’s just, just.” Lu Wuqi swallowed hard, forcing herself to tamp down the heat of her emotions and trying to sound calm.

“I can’t go to university anymore. You deserve someone better.” Sweat traced down her forehead, slid across her cheek, and fell with a faint pat against the warm white tiles.

“Why?” Lan Xu frowned, confusion etched across her face. “Didn’t you already get your admission letter?”

Lu Wuqi blinked rapidly to keep the sweat from stinging her eyes.

Had the original her ever run into Lan Xu while delivering food? Probably not. So why had she met her on just her second day here?

【Because of the butterfly effect, Host. The moment you became this world’s Lu Wuqi, it turned into a brand-new parallel timeline.】 The Redemption System offered gently.

“Because, because” She wanted to blurt out the truth—that she was broke. But the words lodged in her throat, refusing to come out.

Now that she was face-to-face with Lan Xu, all of the other self’s feelings had fully bled into her. That pride, that refusal to appear weak in front of the one she loved—it was hers now too.

Lan Xu didn’t press her. She simply stood there, head tilted slightly upward, quietly waiting for an answer.

Before Lu Wuqi could speak, a voice drifted from the entryway:

“Lan Xu, was the order wrong? Did they forget something? How come you—eh? Lu Wuqi? What are you doing here—are you here to see Lan Xu?”

It was the customer named Fa Cai, shuffling out in slippers, puzzled by the sight of the two girls standing so close.

“Can I tell you later?” Lu Wuqi asked, tugging her wrist free with a firmer-than-usual motion as she pressed the elevator button.

“Lu Wuqi!” Lan Xu’s temper finally flared. It had been bad enough when she dodged her calls and brushed off texts, but now—face to face—she still refused to explain?

“I’m here.” The words slipped out before Lu Wuqi could think. Meeting Lan Xu’s tear-brimmed eyes, she froze.

When had they even gotten together?

They’d grown close in their first year, feelings budding into an unspoken understanding. Out of respect for their studies, they hadn’t made it official until their final year, when they’d studied side by side, working toward their dream universities.

As the elevator dinged open, Lu Wuqi dropped her gaze, stepped inside, and pressed the button for the ground floor.

Lan Xu stomped her foot, shoved the milk tea at Fa Cai, and braced her hand against the elevator door, keeping it from closing.

“Lu Wuqi!” This time her voice cracked, tinged with a sob.

“I’m here,” Lu Wuqi repeated, standing straighter but avoiding her eyes.

“If you explain now, I’ll pretend I never saw that text!” Lan Xu burst out, half-angry, half-desperate.

She wasn’t about to accept some muddled, half-baked breakup.

They’d both been admitted to top universities. Their eighteenth-birthday wish was just about to come true.

Why end it like this? Why tear it apart without reason? She wouldn’t accept it. She couldn’t.

Lu Wuqi tried again to speak the truth, but her pride still wouldn’t let her. All she could do was step forward, gently move Lan Xu’s hand aside, and say softly:

“This is dangerous. Xu Xu, give me a little time, okay?” She pressed the close button.

“I’ll come back with a ten-thousand-word apology letter.” Lu Wuqi forced a smile, hoping to leave her with something—anything—that might soothe.

Explaining now would only weigh Lan Xu down. Better to clean up her own mess first, then come back ready to grovel.

But without the advantage of an outside perspective, Lu Wuqi didn’t realize how fragile her smile looked.

So fragile that anyone with eyes could see it—see that there was more to this breakup than she was letting on.