Rayna sluggishly climbed the staircase to her apartment, every step weighing heavily on her exhausted limbs. She finally reached her door, turned the knob, and stepped inside. As she trudged toward her bed, she passed a wall-mounted mirror and came to a halt.

Her eyes locked on her reflection.

Disgust twisted her features. The woman staring back at her had a bloated, puffy face, as if filled with air, and a heavy frame that tipped the scales beyond a hundred kilograms. Her convenience store uniform clung uncomfortably to her body, outlining a round, protruding belly, plump arms, and a barely visible neck.

She averted her gaze and walked over to the bed, collapsing onto it with a sigh. For a moment, she lay still, her mind blank. Then something nudged her memory. Reaching beneath her pillow, she retrieved a novel. With a small, tired smile, she opened it to the first page and began to read.

Time slipped by unnoticed. She was completely absorbed, and before she realized it, the clock had struck eleven.

“What a beautiful story,” she whispered, closing the book. Her eyes lingered on the cover illustration: a radiant young woman resting in a sunlit meadow, surrounded by fluttering butterflies. The girl had an ethereal beauty—slender yet curvaceous, with an oval face, luminous green eyes, a delicate nose, and soft, pink lips.

A sharp pang of envy pierced Rayna’s chest. Almost instinctively, her fingers brushed her own face. She was the polar opposite of that enchanting image—overweight, awkward, and painfully ordinary.

With a sigh, she slid the book back under her pillow and reached for her diary in the nightstand drawer. Sitting upright, she flipped to a blank page, uncapped the attached pen, and began to write.

“Dear diary...” she whispered aloud, the words flowing from her heart to the page.

She poured out her frustrations and insecurities, her pen capturing every sorrowful thought. Tears welled up in her eyes as she wrote. More than anything, she had always longed for just one thing—to be normal.

Since birth, she had always been on the heavier side. Whispers in the family claimed her mother had died giving birth to her due to her size. She had tried everything to lose weight—strict diets, exhausting exercise routines—but nothing ever worked. Eventually, she gave up. All she could do was envy the women around her with their trim figures and confident smiles.

—Maybe I wasn’t meant to be normal— she thought bitterly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

She quietly closed her diary and returned it to the drawer. The exhaustion in her body and soul weighed her down. Within minutes, she drifted into sleep.

“Sirena, wake up! It’s nearly noon and you’re still in bed. This is no way for a proper young lady to behave.”

Rayna’s eyes blinked open, still clouded with sleep. Her vision blurred, her mind dazed. But then her body jolted upright.

“Who the heck are you?!” she gasped.

A woman she had never seen before stood beside the bed. And… this wasn’t her bed. This wasn’t even her apartment.

“Sirena, how many times must I remind you not to use such vulgar language?” the woman scolded, her voice stern but not unkind—more like a mother chastising her child.

Confusion flooded Rayna’s face. Who was this woman? And more importantly, where was she?

“Why are you still lying around? Get up. I’ve already drawn your bath,” the woman said, gathering clothes from the floor before exiting the room.

Rayna’s thoughts buzzed wildly. —What… what is going on?—

She glanced around the room, stunned. The decor was rustic, almost medieval. The air was perfumed with fragrant incense. The wooden furniture was simple and handmade. It all felt like something out of a historical drama.

She cautiously stepped out of bed and scanned her surroundings with awe. Her gaze landed on a shard of polished glass mounted on the wall—an improvised mirror. What she saw reflected back at her made her freeze.

Her former self—chubby, plain, and awkward—was gone.

In her place stood a stunning young woman with a flawless figure, glowing skin, vivid green eyes, and ebony-black hair. She was graceful, radiant… unrecognizable.

Her jaw dropped. Her breath caught in her throat. She was too shocked to even scream.

—Is that… me?— she thought, heart pounding. A swirl of disbelief, elation, and bewilderment surged through her.

She pinched herself hard. “Ouch,” she muttered, flinching. It hurt.

“I’m not dreaming,” she whispered, realization dawning. As she gazed into the mirror again, a memory stirred. This face—it was identical to the girl on the novel’s cover.

“This is unbelievable… I’ve been reincarnated into the novel,” she said aloud, her voice trembling with awe.

Just then, the door slammed open.

“Sirena! I told you to take your bath!” The woman returned, looking thoroughly exasperated. Without another word, she marched over and tugged Rayna’s ear.

“Ouch! Ow, ow, it hurts!” Rayna cried as she was yanked out of the room.

They stopped in front of a small shed behind the house. The woman released her ear, now bright red.

“Now get in there and wash up. Don’t make me repeat myself,” she warned, then walked off.

Rayna stared after her, gently cupping her ear. Tears welled in her eyes again—but this time, not from pain.

—So this is what it feels like to have a mother…— she thought, a soft smile curling on her lips.

She stepped into the shed and took a long, soothing bath, savoring every second.

Two weeks passed. Rayna, now Sirena, had seamlessly adjusted to her new life in the novel’s world. She lived peacefully with her kind mother, Lilith, and her playful younger brother, Sirl.

One afternoon, she visited the bustling market to buy ingredients for a special meal.

“Excuse me, sir. How much for these radishes?” she asked politely, pointing to a neatly arranged pile.

“Two silver and four bronze coins,” the shopkeeper replied.

“That means six of them would cost one gold, six silver, and four bronze coins,” she calculated aloud without hesitation.

The shopkeeper blinked in surprise. He quickly pulled out his abacus, taking nearly two minutes to confirm her answer. His jaw dropped when his results matched hers.

How could a common village girl do mental math so effortlessly?

—She must’ve calculated it before leaving home—he reasoned, trying to make sense of it. The idea that a humble girl could possess such sharp intellect unsettled him.

But Sirena simply smiled, unaware of the astonishment she had caused.