Quick Transmigration: Will Even a Foolishly Popular Person Be Forced to Love Him?

At that moment, I was truly stunned.

For those in high positions who are accustomed to the art of feigning indifference, such a refusal should, in theory, not only fail to attract attention but should also provoke their displeasure.

[When superiors bestow favors upon inferiors, even refusal is considered ungrateful.]

I've always done things the way I always have: I blacklisted her the moment she rejected me.

But she's different...

Watching her departing figure, I felt a pang of hesitation for the first time.

[...This is a somewhat strange child, yet one that's impossible not to care about.]

Is it really okay to just let things go like this? I asked myself that question.

Perhaps she's just too naive and innocent, and doesn't understand anything?

If she actually needs help, and I'm clearly capable of doing so, but I turn a blind eye, I might regret it later.

So I had someone catch up with her and give her some money.

Since she's not asking for anything, giving her money can't be wrong.

After all, money is indispensable no matter where you are. Especially here in Zone E.

In Zone E, it must be tough not to have money, right? Whether it's a spacious house, nice clothes, or delicious food, it all costs money.

But even after she had the money, she remained unmoved.

When the check was shoved into her arms, she merely held it up to the sunlight for a moment, staring blankly. Her beautiful eyes only glanced at the check for a few seconds before lowering them again.

Like a pure white bird that has obtained the most valuable thing in the human world, yet remains immersed in its own world, for whom a check might not even be as valuable as a brightly colored piece of paper.

I subconsciously worried, and then I regretted it a little.

Was the amount on the check too small? Offering only one million on our first meeting is indeed a bit low. But if it were too much, wouldn't it seem like I have ulterior motives towards a girl like her?

[He's acting like a complete idiot...]

Is it too late to go up to her now, tell her she wrote the wrong number, ask her what number she likes, and fill out a new check for her?

Before I could even put this idea into practice, I quickly froze.

—I heard her voice.

"Why are you giving me money? Do I look like a beggar?"

She folded the checks, put them in her pocket, and while combing her long hair, secretly glanced at her clothes, even her muttered words were unexpected.

[...Is this what you're confused about?]

Through the car window, I saw my reflection and the corners of my mouth curve slightly.

The child didn't have a mirror, so she looked for a window. She examined herself carefully, then began to comb her hair.

To be honest, her hair was beautiful—thick, black, smooth, and shiny—but she wasn't wearing a hair tie, so she just combed it with her fingers and let it fall loosely over her shoulders.

She took such good care of herself that even when I had someone follow her, she didn't notice.

[The parched, barren land, the moldy, yellowed house, the lack of clean, pretty clothes, the lack of beautiful jewelry, the lack of delicious food—how did she grow up like this? Did the people who raised her truly care for her?]

For once, I felt a surge of curiosity about someone.

[His alertness doesn't seem like that of a child from Area E, so naturally his sense of direction isn't very good either.]

After tidying herself up, she began to wander aimlessly. Sometimes she went east, sometimes west, and before she knew it, she had arrived at a park.

Then he sat down on a relatively clean bench.

She seemed very clean, so she checked her pockets before sitting down. Finding no tissues, she frowned, wiped the chair with her hand, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and then sat down with a slightly haughty air.

But she clearly hadn't considered that much; her clothes weren't dirty anymore, but her palms were covered in dust.

She stared blankly at her palms for a while, her expression a mix of dazedness and dejection. Finally, she decided to tuck her hands under her thighs to hide them, trying to avoid the sight and feeling annoyed, and even started swinging her legs in a self-deceptive manner.

The scene was indeed quite cute, and I instinctively wanted to take a picture.

It wasn't until I checked my phone that I realized how beautifully the magnolias were blooming.

[...Spring had arrived without me even realizing it, but it seems I only noticed it now.]

And the child, even more lovely and charming than the magnolia flower, has an even more adorable name.

[—Yun Zhi.]

When I saw her profile, I suddenly understood why she was the way she was.

Born in an orphanage, parents unknown, grew up in a welfare home, average grades, mediocre talent... Despite possessing such outstanding looks, the records about her are so superficial and indistinct.

Everyone seems to subconsciously ignore her; she's like a transparent person, suddenly revealing her brilliance at some unknown moment.

Is this a good thing or a bad thing for her?

Growing up in a slum was pitiful enough, but she was also the kind of child who couldn't live alone.

It seems even more impossible to leave her alone now...

By this time, it was already noon.

She showed no sign of wanting to eat, remaining engrossed in her own little world.

I had no choice but to have someone try to get her attention.

[The lottery ticket that fell in front of her; she was the 66th lucky person to receive a flyer and could choose any grand prize; a famous restaurant's free meal promotion; supermarket coupons...]

[...but nothing could make her beautiful eyes sparkle.]

She didn't pay attention to any of them.

"Thank you, but it's alright."

"Yeah, I'll eat there when I have time."

"A big prize? That's a bit of a hassle... I'll think about it."

Whether it was intentional or unintentional, or due to various coincidences and accidents, she would at most give a stiff and formal reply when someone approached her, speaking with a slight E-di accent, like a little robot.

But superfluously, her answer was always a refusal.

[They said everything, and they said nothing at all.]

What would a girl like her want?

What could possibly bring a smile to her face?

I don't understand.

All I know is that I think I'm starting to want to understand her a little.