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  Chapter 138: The Mysterious Transfer Student

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  Xanthia paid no heed to the gossip she'd overheard, returning directly to her seat with a singur focus—completing the task she’d just received.

  The thought of soon acquiring a new skin for free gave her all the motivation she needed.

  With her trusty "Horror Brush" at hand, her drawing process was swift, as always. It wasn’t long before she completed the bizarre yet tantalizing self-portrait in a strikingly edgy, over-the-top style. With the task now finished, she felt quite pleased with herself.

  Her pn for the evening was already set: she’d try on the new outfit she’d unlocked, a blue-quality Gothic Lolita dress.

  The bck-and-red ensemble with its cssic gothic frills seemed to complement her "Nightmare Phone" quite well, or so she thought.

  If she were honest with herself, Xanthia actually preferred the soft and sweet pink dresses that resembled a cute doll—adorable and whimsical without drawing too much attention on the street.

  However, Gothic Lolita was another story entirely. It veered into the darker, more mysterious aesthetic, with a hint of the dramatic. Wearing something so bold as everyday attire might be a bit much—bordering on embarrassing, even—but as a special occasion outfit, it certainly had its appeal.

  After all, anything produced by the system would naturally feel exquisitely crafted, akin to high-end, custom-tailored fashion.

  For Xanthia, ever since acquiring her "Social Butterfly" trait, there wasn’t much she felt shy about wearing in public. Of course, she did have limits—anything too revealing was reserved for her 'private moments of self-indulgence'.

  As for a system-designed Lolita dress of blue-tier quality, she was certain its craftsmanship and material would be top-notch. She could hardly wait to see how it looked on her.

  By the time Xanthia had completed her task, more students had begun trickling into the cssroom. The familiar group of girls she usually sat with arrived soon after.

  Her deskmate, Elena La Loannou, as always, looked effortlessly chic today. Dressed in a refreshingly simple yet luxurious outfit, its price tag was anything but modest. On days when there was no strict uniform requirement, Elena never failed to make the most of it.

  With her carefully maintained image of a cold yet elegant angel, she truly turned heads wherever she went.

  Even though Css 1-3 had a wildcard like Dematero, someone who had managed to blindside Elena with his unexpected rise, and despite the fact that he had once embarrassed her in front of everyone, Elena remained unshaken.

  Truthfully, most of the girls and sizeable portion of boys in the css still sided with Elena, especially after Dematero’s crude dispys of wealth and his pompous attitude—traits that only made him more distasteful in their eyes.

  While Dematero had proven himself in a small way with his talents, his behavior as a nouveau riche brat, funting his success at every turn, continued to rub people the wrong way.

  Sure, in private, Elena had endured her share of mockery from her former dormmate Sequanni, who had never liked her to begin with. Though initially rattled, Elena quickly regained her composure.

  In her eyes, even if Dematero had become rich and managed to pull off a small reversal of fortune, he was still an emotional wreck with severe personality fws. A complete and utter mess. Such a person wasn’t worth her time or attention.

  She certainly had no intention of interacting him. If she ever did, she’d likely end up being mocked by Dematero himself—a prideful boy notorious for his caustic attitude toward girls, which was common knowledge by now.

  The only exception to this harsh behavior was Xanthia. With her, Dematero seemed to revert to his old self: kind, gentle, and as his name suggested, mild-mannered.

  As Elena took her seat, she turned to Xanthia with a bright smile. "Li'l Xanthia, how did you spend your break? Did you have a good time?"

  Her tone was warm and friendly, a far cry from the icy demeanor she showed to most others. Around Xanthia, whom she respected, there was no need for any pretence of aloofness.

  For most girls, the whole Dematero ordeal would have created some lingering awkwardness—after all, a boy who once admired you had now "moved on" and done so in a way that funted his newfound success, making it all the more humiliating regardless of girl's true nature.

  The victim is always the good, and the oppressor is the bad. Most will sided with those who are rejected without knowing the girl's side.

  But Elena was no ordinary girl. Boys who admired her were countless, and Dematero, one narrow-minded mysognist wasn’t enough to stir any sort of competitive feeling within her.

  Besides, in her mind, Xanthia had never been a competitor in the first pce. They weren’t even on the same pying field.

  Xanthia didn’t exude the same icy beauty Elena cultivated. She was warm and approachable, like a little sun, radiating positive energy to everyone around her.

  Elena’s thoughts briefly flicked to Xanthia’s outfit for the day. It was pin, almost rustic, with her out-of-date sneakers to match. It pained Elena to see such a lovely girl dressed so poorly.

  What were Xanthia’s parents thinking, letting such a precious daughter go around in such dowdy clothes? Clearly, they weren’t paying her the attention she deserved!

  And Xanthia herself—her fashion sense was all over the pce, or more accurately, nonexistent. She never bothered with makeup or stylish attire and seemed to be entirely uninterested in looking after her appearance, having been influenced by the equally careless and 'righteous' Luciel.

  Yes, in Elena’s eyes, Luciel’s sense of style was a complete disaster. The girl had no concept of maintaining her physical appearance, good enough is good, making her an obvious bad influence on Xanthia.

  Still, Elena wasn’t the type to meddle in others’ affairs. Rational and reasonable she was, Elena know her boundaries. She wasn’t about to step in and fix Xanthia’s fashion sense. If other girls wanted to underdress and be her green leaves, so be it—it only made her stand out all the more.

  The only frustrating part was Xanthia’s undeniable beauty. With her fair complexion and delicate features, she was naturally blessed. Even her drab clothes couldn’t hide her charm.

  There was a saying: "It’s not the cute things that make a girl adorable; it’s because she’s adorable that anything she does becomes cute."

  Xanthia was exactly that—a sweet, petite girl whose innate cuteness let her get away with anything.

  Just imagine when Xanthia gets her hands on that blue-tier or even purple-tier outfit! The transformation would be stunning, the ultimate glow-up with a touch of dramatic fir.

  As Elena pondered, Xanthia responded to her earlier question with a smile. "I went to the ice rink for some figure skating. It was quite fun, actually."

  "Figure skating? You know how to do that? Weren’t you afraid of falling?" Elena asked, intrigued.

  "You get the hang of it eventually," Xanthia replied casually. "And even if I did fall, I recover pretty quickly."

  "Still, don’t push yourself too hard. You’re so thin, it looks like the wind could knock you over," Elena teased lightly.

  Xanthia ughed. Though her appearance hadn’t changed much, her stats were completely different now. With both "Sturdy" and "Light as a Feather" under her belt, she had no doubt that she was well on her way to becoming an unstoppable angel. All she needed was time to keep accumuting those sweet, sweet happy points.

  High school, with its restrictive uniform policy, felt like a period of hibernation. It wasn’t until university—when she could dress however she liked—that her true potential would be unlocked. Then, the real fun would begin.

  Just then, Luciel, who sat in front of Xanthia, arrived. A week ago, after learning about Xanthia’s real identity and current situation, she had kept the information to herself, not uttering a word to their cssmates. She was the kind of girl who knew how to keep a secret.

  However, she had shared Xanthia’s story with her parents.

  When they heard that Xanthia had scored first in the css on the st monthly exam, their reaction was immediate and heartfelt. They were thrilled that their daughter was friends with someone so capable, convinced that the two would motivate each other to keep improving.

  After learning about Xanthia’s personal struggles, their affection for her only grew. To them, Xanthia’s ability to remain so cheerful and optimistic despite her harsh upbringing was truly admirable.

  Luciel’s kind-hearted parents even suggested that the next time they brought a hearty meal to school, she should invite Xanthia to join them.

  Luciel didn’t commit right away, saying she would first check with Xanthia.

  As she now approached Xanthia, after a brief chat, she raised the topic.

  Xanthia beamed. "It would be a pleasure to join you! Your parents’ kindness means the world to me—I wouldn’t dream of turning it down."

  Xanthia’s fearless, carefree nature was evident in her response. She wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity or envy Luciel’s happy familia life. Every day, she lived with joy, cherishing her freedom.

  Even though she was, for all intents and purposes, without parents, Xanthia saw this as a form of liberty. If her good-for-nothing father ever dared to reappear and try to control her, she’d make sure to teach him a lesson he’d never forget!

  Demterios was no father to her, and the memories the original Xanthia had of him were filled with nothing but hatred. That only made it easier for Xanthia to pn her revenge on his behalf, knowing she would enjoy every moment of it.

  Upon hearing Xanthia's agreement, Luciel csped her small hand with both of hers, her face alight with joy. "Xanthia, I knew you wouldn’t refuse me! Your easy-going nature is just so endearing!"

  Xanthia allowed her hand to be toyed with, humbly replying, “Easy-going? More like shameless, really—after all, I’m practically freeloading.”

  "Nonsense!" Luciel retorted with a smug grin. "You’re just doing my parents a favor by giving them face. Besides, it shows how close we are!"

  Luciel’s hands were warm, but Xanthia’s were always cold, as if kissed by winter’s frost. Watching this scene, Elena felt a strange pang of jealousy—though not entirely because of their close friendship. A part of her envied Luciel’s parents for doting on her so much.

  Ah, the perks of being an only child—no siblings to compete with for affection. Elena, on the other hand, had a younger brother, three years her junior. Naturally, her parents favored him more.

  Elena has never experience warm familial love.

  As for Xanthia, she rarely, if ever, mentioned her own familia. Elena had always been curious about this, but unlike Luciel, she wasn’t close enough to Xanthia to ask such personal questions. However, that very silence spoke volumes.

  Elena seldom spoke of her own parents as well, and so she felt an odd sense of kinship with Xanthia—perhaps like they shared an unspoken burden.

  In fact, Xanthia’s situation seemed even more unfortunate. Elena, through her keen observation, had noticed the simplicity in Xanthia’s attire and belongings. To put it kindly, they were “modest,” but if she were to be blunt, they bordered on "impoverished."

  Despite her familia's financial decline, Elena’s standards remained high. Sure, Xanthia had snacks stashed away in her desk, but they were just cheap, domestic junk food. How much could that be worth?

  Every now and then, Elena would share some of her own snacks with Xanthia, usually imported and high-end, though not bought with her own money. They were offerings from her many admirers, the ones she effortlessly strung along.

  The priciest imported chocotes were usually too rich for Elena’s liking. She’d eat just one, to sample it, then hand the rest to Xanthia. It wasn’t out of generosity; it was more a sincere hope that Xanthia might gain a little weight.

  At first, Xanthia had been reluctant to accept such gifts, but the persistence of her cssmates wore her down. The other girls, united in their desire to feed the "little glutton," refused to take no for an answer. In the end, Xanthia gave in.

  She did love her snacks, after all.

  What began as a simple fondness for food soon spiralled into indulgence. And once her attribute had levelled up to “Gourmand,” there was no stopping her. She’d even eat junk food with reckless abandon.

  Dirty food? No problem. “A little dirt never hurt anyone!”

  In fact, the more unhealthy the snack, the more addictive it became. In the past, Xanthia would have never dreamed of eating such things, but now, with the “Gourmand” trait, she could purify toxins, storing the excess energy like a camel’s hump. Health concerns were a thing of the past.

  Elena, watching Xanthia accept her offerings, always felt a strange satisfaction—perhaps a mix of accomplishment and moral redemption. It was almost as though, by feeding Xanthia, she was atoning for her otherwise unscrupulous behavior.

  After all, Elena knew very well that stringing along boys and turning them into walking ATMs was not the most ethical pastime. But by sharing the spoils of her questionable endeavors with Xanthia, she felt a curious sense of absolution, as though the ste was wiped clean.

  This twisted logic made perfect sense to her, and so, with each snack she handed over, her conscience felt just a little lighter.

  After her chat with Xanthia, Luciel borrowed her holiday homework, particurly from the science subjects, where a few tricky problems had left her uncertain. She wasn’t sure if she had solved them correctly, and she wanted to compare answers with Xanthia, who was by now the acknowledged science prodigy of the css.

  Xanthia had even been selected for advanced training in mathematics competitions—an undisputed "mathematician and scientist". Naturally, the other girls began relying on her more and more for help with their science problems.

  Luciel, however, wasn’t as dependent as others. She didn’t struggle with any particur subject, but Elena, while excelling in humanities, was weaker in sciences. Hence, it was Elena who sought Xanthia’s help most frequently.

  Elena’s respect for Xanthia was genuine. It stemmed from Xanthia’s complete dominance over science problems, which filled Elena with admiration. In a top-tier school like theirs, academic excellence added an extra yer of allure. It wasn’t just the boys who admired clever girls—the girls, too, found themselves gravitating toward those who excelled.

  Over time, Elena’s fondness for Xanthia grew, not only because of her brilliance but also because Elena herself felt she had improved in the sciences, thanks to Xanthia’s guidance.

  Just as Luciel borrowed the homework, Lhoraine, the css’s “gossip queen,” returned to her seat. Dropping her bag and tidying her desk, she immediately turned around with excitement.

  "Xanthia! Guess what—big news! We’re getting a new transfer student tomorrow!"

  Xanthia raised an eyebrow. “How do you all find out about these things so quickly? I’ve already heard some of the back row talking about it.”

  Lhoraine chuckled and pulled out her test smartphone model, waving it as if in triumph. “That’s because you don’t follow our css’s gossip chat or the school forums, let alone the campus rumors on the message boards.”

  Xanthia smiled. “Why bother when I have you, the queen of gossip? Besides, what’s so exciting about a transfer student? Couldn’t they have just pced them in another css?”

  Elena chimed in, her tone dripping with disinterest. “Exactly. Unless she’s some stunning beauty, what’s there to gossip about? But even then, no one could top our own Xanthia.”

  "Sister Elena, are you teasing me on purpose? How can I still be considered a beauty dressed like this?" Xanthia quipped.

  With that opening, Lhoraine asked. “Well, Xanthia, since you know your clothes aren’t doing you any favors, why not wear something more fashionable? Your looks deserve better than this!”

  "You have great potential, Xanthia", Elena agreed.

  Xanthia offered a light smile. "I’ve gotten used to wearing what’s comfortable. I don’t see the point in dressing up, especially since I’m not trying to impress anyone. I only care about how I feel."

  All her reasoning boiled down to three simple words: I want to.

  Having grown accustomed to the system-issued gear, even if it was the most basic “whiteboard” equipment, Xanthia found it more comfortable than any real-world clothes could ever be. So, she didn’t care how unappealing it might look.

  Her ability to convince herself of such things almost earned Elena and Lhoraine’s respect.

  "Alright, alright, no more sidetracks! Let me tell you all about this juicy gossip," Lhoraine interjected impatiently.

  "Go on, then," Xanthia said nonchantly.

  “Well, I believe the reason this transfer student is coming to our css is because there’s now an empty seat. Remember Kenny? The one who alienated himself from the entire css? His seat has been empty since he left, so I’m guessing it’s reserved for this new student. Let’s wish him luck,” Lhoraine snickered, clearly amused by the memory of Kenny's embrassing moments.

  In fact, their css, Year 1, Css 3, was once known for a trio of nicknames: “The Pee, Poop, and Fart Kings.” Now that Kenny had transferred, that trio would never reunite, and the css felt a little less lively without their antics.

  All of this, of course, was Kenny’s own fault. He had dared to cross Xanthia, and his fate had been sealed. Now, the once infamous "Crying Pee King" was gone, leaving only a sense of hollow amusement in his wake.

  “So, is the transfer student a boy or a girl? Got any more details?” Elena asked, not especially interested but making polite conversation.

  Xanthia refrained from asking, having already overheard some rumors about the transfer student. But Lhoraine, ever the gossip queen, had more detailed intel.

  Smiling, Lhoraine unlocked her phone, opened her notes, and began sharing, “He’s a boy, and his name is Matthew Tan. Apparently, he’s arrogant and spoiled, because he’s from the wealthy Tan familia—though not from the main branch. He used to attend Foreign Languages High School, but he somehow managed to offend Susan La Papadopoulos, the eldest of the Papadopoulos familia, and had to transfer.”

  Xanthia’s eyes darkened. "Susan?"

  "That’s right! It’s said she’s a brilliant prodigy, and some say she’s got connections even beyond the country. I don’t know the details, but apparently, Matthew Tan didn’t stand a chance."

  Lhoraine chuckled, “Though the Tan familia may not wield as much power as the Papadopoulos familia, their direct descendants would hardly be so foolish as to acknowledge the eldest son, nor would they involve themselves in the affairs of the Papadopoulos familia's third generation. It appears that this Matthew Tan cks crity; perhaps he still believes himself to be part of the main lineage and is far too restless, seeking to borrow the tiger’s skin of the 'eldest son' to charge into battle for him.”

  Elena sighed, “Indeed, it’s the formidable Miss Susan who refuses to let go. Is she fond of being a relentless bulldog, always ready to charge on behalf of the eldest son? One swift sp could send this Matthew packing from the Foreign Languages High School!”

  Lhoraine and Elena continued their animated conversation. “Elena, it seems you’re quite taken with Miss Susan, aren’t you?”

  At that moment, Elena transformed into a starry-eyed fangirl, completely shedding her angel-like composure, revealing her true self in front of close friends.

  “I adore her! Absolutely adore her! Miss Susan is my angel. The aura of aloofness she exudes is simply enchanting. The term ‘world renowned beauty’ could not be more apt for her; combined with her outstanding achievements, it allows her to maintain this perfect angel persona. I am utterly captivated by everything about her!” Elena excimed, her excitement palpable.

  It was the first time Lhoraine witnessed Elena so fervently idolizing another girl, especially one slightly older than them, her angel demeanor completely abandoned.

  She sighed, “What a pity that Miss Susan isn’t at our school. If only she were a senior in our second year, we would have the chance to witness her grace firsthand.”

  “Not being here is irrelevant; with her academic prowess, I’m certain Miss Susan will choose a prestigious university in the country. Once she does, I’ll be sure to apply there too!”

  The influence of role models seemed boundless. Elena, who usually performed well academically, brimmed with confidence in her pursuit of following in Susan's footsteps.

  Xanthia quietly absorbed the conversation, her interest piqued not by the transfer student Matthew Tan but by her cousin, Susan.

  Clearly, compared to her own presence as a mere shadow in the Papadopoulos familia, Susan was undoubtedly the illustrious daughter of the familia. Whenever the name “Miss Papadopoulos” was mentioned, it inevitably referred to Susan.

  As for Xanthia, she couldn’t even cim the title of “little miss,” which spoke volumes about the disparities in their worlds.

  Even though she shared the surname “Papadopoulos,” few around her associated her with the Papadopoulos familia, for “Papadopoulos” was a common surname. What were the odds that a random cssmate with the same surname was a daughter of the Papadopoulos familia?

  Xanthia was too grounded, cking any sembnce of that high-css aura. In stark contrast, Susan stood high above, embodying the quintessential ice angel, multitudes higher above Elena, exuding an air of unapproachability that unmistakably marked her as a true heiress.

  Observing Xanthia deep in thought, Lhoraine found her rather adorable and couldn’t resist reaching out to ruffle Xanthia’s hair. The quality of her hair was simply exquisite, prompting endless questions about the brand of shampoo and conditioner she used.

  Xanthia’s answers invariably disappointed Lhoraine, as they were far too commonpce and ordinary. As for conditioner, she didn’t even use it.

  Yet, despite this, Xanthia had no dandruff, which imparted a uniquely refreshing impression. Lhoraine would lean closer to inhale the scent of her hair, always delighted by the subtle fragrance, which certainly did not resemble that of the mainstream shampoo she cimed to use…

  Lhoraine was perplexed but had grown fond of the sensation of stroking Xanthia's hair. Sometimes, when they pyfully tussled, she would gather Xanthia into her arms, relishing the delightful fragrance that clung to her.

  “Xanthia, you’ve been so engrossed in gossip; why not share your thoughts?” Lhoraine suggested.

  “My thoughts? Well… with no Susan at our school, could it lead to no one being able to rein in Matthew Tan? What if he stirs up trouble in our css?” Xanthia feigned a look of concern, appearing particurly timid and easily bullied..

  Lhoraine, on the other hand, maintained an optimistic stance. “Even if we ck Susan, we still have Dionysius! With his moniker of 'campus crush' he certainly isn’t the type to back down. If Matthew Tan dares to act up, we can call upon Dionysius to handle him. This minor side branch of the Tan familia wouldn’t dare cause a ruckus!”

  Elena couldn’t help but scoff, “Hold on, don’t act as if you’re best friends with Dionysius El Papadopoulos! He’s not even in our css; if Matthew Tan causes chaos, the campus crush wouldn’t be able to reach us.”

  Lhoraine, however, patted Xanthia on the shoulder. “I may not know him well, but there’s you, Xanthia. With just a small application of your charms, surely Dionysius would swoop in to rescue you!”

  It was evident that Lhoraine had noticed how Dionysius had shown concern for Xanthia, not only during the athletic meet but also during the recent incident in the corridor when he had pyed the part of a supportive onlooker. It was clear as day that Dionysius harbored feelings for Xanthia!

  She felt compelled to awaken the naive Xanthia, urging her to seize such an opportunity.

  Yet Elena couldn’t hold back any longer. She swatted Lhoraine’s hand away, visibly displeased. “Lhoraine, must you make such distasteful jokes? Don’t mislead Xanthia! She’s the kind of girl who is pure and virtuous; she should never get entangled with a third-generation scion!”

  To Elena, the most unreliable thing in the world was a man’s affections, for their feelings, or love, were fleeting and momentary. While third-generation heirs might engage in casual retionships in high school, even fathering children without care, such actions could ruin a girl’s life!

  In her opinion, despite Dionysius’s superior character and reputation compared to the eldest son, his status meant he and Xanthia were worlds apart.

  Xanthia, who was inherently gentle, kind, and pure, ought to focus on changing her fate through earnest study, rather than risk a retionship with someone like Dionysius. Doing so would be asking troubles!

  Even if Dionysius were genuinely fond of Xanthia, so what?

  How many high school romances actually blossomed into something sting?

  Especially for a third-generation scion, marriage wouldn’t be their choice; they would inevitably wed a daughter from another prominent familia.

  In such a scenario, a na?ve girl like Xanthia, whose familia cked any significant influence—her parents perhaps even divorced—would find herself as a “Cinderel” responding to the affections of a third-generation heir. That would be akin to flying into the fme, ultimately consumed and left with nothing but lost youth; even in marriage, she might find it impossible to secure a decent partner.

  Elena possessed a peculiar sense of responsibility to guard Xanthia throughout high school.

  Studying diligently to secure a pce in a prestigious university was the only path to take. Relying solely on oneself was the most trustworthy option. As for a man's affection, it should be used, not returned.

  Without Elena’s oversight, it was best not to even consider using it—much like Luciel, who focused entirely on her studies, blissfully unaware of the world beyond.

  While the three of them engaged in spirited gossip, Luciel remained an observer, embodying the true role model!

  Though Elena’s rebuke unsettled Lhoraine, she chose not to counter, feeling somewhat aggrieved. She did not possess Elena’s level of wariness and thought her friend’s views on men were excessively antagonistic and extreme.

  In her view, Dionysius was a rather reliable boy; he didn’t require Xanthia to truly date him. If that were the case, Dionysius would probably find it distasteful, after all, he was a well-respected, abstinent gentleman.

  Thus, why not adapt a little and simply regard him as an older brother? That seemed quite reasonable!

  Such “foster brother” and “sister” retionships were still in vogue during high school; while some may not be entirely innocent, many of these retionships were quite pure.

  Lhoraine believed that if Xanthia could truly establish a “sister” bond, she would soar—who would dare to target the “sister” of Dionysius El Papadopoulos?

  ...

  The next day arrived swiftly.

  Monday dawned, and once again, the English nguage css was commandeered by the head teacher, Emmanuel, turning it into a css meeting.

  He entered the cssroom, accompanied by a boy with an unruly expression, long bangs, an unremarkable appearance, yet dressed in extravagant attire.

  This boy was none other than Matthew Tan, the third-generation heir from the side branch of the Tan familia!