The situation culminated at the critical moment when we both took our art university entrance exams. Grace supposedly had a sudden vision problem during the test and couldn't complete it. She then switched our names when submitting our papers.

When the admission results came out, I immediately recognized that the excellent test paper bearing Grace's name was actually mine. I begged Mom and Dad to support me, but they just held Grace, who was crying hysterically, and advised me to be more generous.

"Wendy, you can always retake the exam next year, but Grace doesn't have much time left. You know she could go blind at any moment!"

"Grace has had such a pitiful life. Just give in to her this once! You'll definitely pass next year!"

They made it sound so easy. Who knew how many hours I had secretly practiced, drawing late into the night until I nearly ruined my eyes because my natural talent didn't match Grace's?

I broke down and shouted, "Isn't it enough that she's stolen my parents? Does she have to steal my life too? Give me back my spot, or I'll leave this family forever!"

My defiance didn't bring any remorse from my parents—just an angry slap from Dad.

"If Grace's eyes weren't sick, do you think you could ever beat her? You have no artistic talent whatsoever. You'd be at the bottom of the class even if you got into art school!"

I held my stinging cheek, unable to believe these words had come from my biological father's mouth.

In the end, Grace took my place at the art university. Meanwhile, I became the laughingstock of everyone in our social circle.

I was the girl who lost to her adopted sister with impaired vision. I descended into a life of mediocrity when my artistic dreams were shattered.

I had already lost my passion for painting in this new life. So, I threw the entire art set into the trash in front of my parents. Dad's face darkened instantly, but they knew they were in the wrong and just awkwardly left with Grace.

Jake, who usually studied abroad, came home for a family reunion when summer vacation arrived. He also came back mainly to meet our legendary new sister, Grace.

Just like in my previous life, Grace completely enchanted Jake from their first meeting. She had covered her eyes with a cloth, pretending to be blind as she fumbled her way through the hall. She then "coincidentally" fell right into Jake's arms during their first encounter.

Grace blushed and said sweetly, "Because I don't know when I might go blind, I want to learn to live in darkness first so that I won't burden Mom, Dad, and you in the future."

Grace was so clever with her words. She subtly excluded me while hinting to Jake that we didn't get along.

The young and impulsive Jake was speechless with emotion. The girl before him was as pitiable as the pure-hearted heroine from a drama. He immediately vowed to take care of Grace for the rest of his life.

My parents suggested that we all go out for a day of fun to welcome Jake home. I didn't want to join them.

After all, what did their perfect family of four have to do with me, the temperamental, jealous, difficult daughter that no one loved?

Even then, Grace had to make things difficult for me. She hid in a corner, shedding delicate tears.

"Mom, Dad, you should just take Jake and Wendy without me. I would only spoil your family reunion."

Jake became anxious and gently wiped away Grace's tears.

"Why would you say that? We're family," Jake insisted.

Grace pretended to shy away from Jake's hand while casting a timid glance at me, as if silently accusing me of something.

Jake immediately shot me a vicious look. "Wendy! Why are you bullying Grace? How could you become this kind of person? You were never like this before!"

What kind of person had I become, exactly? The ones who had changed were them.

Mom, who once thought of me first in everything; Dad, who was strict but gentle; and Jake, who always protected me, had all become strangers to me.

I smiled coldly, looking straight into Jake's eyes as I answered, "Why don't you ask Grace? How exactly have I bullied her? I gave her my room—what more could she want?"

Grace grew nervous at my question, instinctively avoiding my gaze. Her fearful demeanor further ignited Jake's protective instincts, and he shouted at me without restraint.

"It's that superior attitude of yours that hurts her! Grace just arrived in our family, so it's only right that you accommodate her!"

Suddenly, I became the enemy who needed to be vanquished, while Jake transformed into the prince protecting his princess.

My saintly parents only took sides as usual. "Wendy, your brother rarely comes home. Don't make him angry. Quickly apologize to Jake and Grace."

I looked at this family, whose favoritism knew no bounds, and replied firmly word by word, "Grace can have whatever she wants from me because I don't care about those things. But making me apologize? Not a chance!"

I locked myself in my room after spitting these words, shutting out Jake's impotent rage and shouting. Later, the four of them spent a joyful day together. No one remembered to call home to check on me, nor did anyone remember to bring back food for me.

I would have felt incredibly wronged and might have gone on a hunger strike or even run away from home to make my parents feel guilty if this had been my previous life. But now I knew such actions would be futile and would only hurt myself.

I made myself a hearty bowl of instant noodles and spread out the supplementary textbooks I had secretly purchased.

I had been working diligently to improve myself since my rebirth, never daring to slack off for a single day. I would carve out my own path through my own efforts in this life. I had also decided to study medicine after careful consideration.

As a seven-year-old with the intelligence of my 20-something past life, I was far ahead of Grace academically. Grace's innocent victim act worked on my family with their savior complex, but it didn't work on school teachers—a failing grade was a failing grade.

I ranked first in our year at the end of the term, while Grace was near the bottom. Every time she was called in by teachers for her poor performance, Grace would cry and claim her eye condition was acting up due to stress.

Nonetheless, she stubbornly refused to transfer to a special school. She would throw the household into chaos during exam weeks.

My saintly parents attended her parent-teacher conferences together to spare Grace's feelings and prevent her from being looked down upon by classmates due to her adopted status, even when mine was scheduled for the same day.

My parents couldn't possibly be unaware that their favoritism had made me a target for mockery and bullying at school. My classmates called me the child who had life but no love.

Whenever they needed to sacrifice my needs for Grace, they would trot out the same brainwashing rhetoric I'd heard so many times I could recite it in my sleep.

"Grace is sickly, and she had a pitiful past. Just give in to her."

Nonetheless, I didn't care anymore, because knowledge gave me my greatest power. I used my free time to study ahead, and I skipped grades at 12 years old to become the youngest high school student in our city's history.

Suddenly, I became a household name in town—everyone knew the Lane family had a genius daughter.

Dad's phone was constantly ringing with calls from the upper echelon of society, people wanting their children to befriend me or even arrange engagements. But again, Dad canceled all those social gatherings to spare Grace's feelings. He never considered how beneficial connections in high society could be for my future.

Of course—how could I possibly compare to his precious darling Grace?

The day my acceptance letter arrived, the principal and newspaper reporters came to our home personally to deliver it. But all they saw were the backs of my parents as they hurriedly left.

Grace would never allow me to capture my parents' attention. She'd merely claimed she had a headache, and my parents had rushed her to the hospital without even taking time to greet the principal.

Despite having long been disillusioned with my parents, I still felt a twinge of hurt and helplessness in that moment.

The principal, Kate Weber, looked at me deeply and said earnestly, "Our school doesn't normally have boarding students, but you can apply to the school in advance if you want to live on campus. I'll make arrangements for you."

Ms. Weber's hand, which was gently stroking my head, was so tender. It had been so long since I'd felt care and concern from an adult that I couldn't help shedding tears in front of her.

I then gained the two people who would truly matter in my life because of those tears.

As the new school term approached, I eagerly moved to the dormitory, away from this home devoid of warmth. On the day I left, Grace again dispatched my parents to the hospital.

Though Jake was home on vacation, he showed no intention of helping me pack. He watched coldly as I bustled about, finally dropping a parting comment, "Finally, some peace in this house."

I lifted my last suitcase into the cab without sparing Jake a glance. The room Ms. Weber had prepared for me was excellent. It was a comfortable studio apartment, seemingly converted from spare faculty housing.

I spent a day making the dormitory clean and comfortable, then went to the bookstore to buy supplementary materials. High school coursework would be more demanding, and I needed to work even harder to outperform everyone.

On the first official day of school, I faced the expected ostracism from other students. They'd heard the principal had made an exception to arrange dormitory housing for me and immediately labeled me as someone with connections.

"Well, well, here comes the 12-year-old genius."

"Is the prodigy scared of living alone in the dorm? Won't you cry for your mommy at night?"

"Let's put the prodigy next to the water cooler. She might need to mix some baby formula between classes."

These self-important students rejected me because my existence overshadowed their brilliance. Such bitter remarks might devastate a typical teenager, but they seemed childishly amusing to someone who had undergone a rebirth like me.

Though young, I was tall for my age. I walked straight to a seat in the middle of the classroom and sat down. More discordant voices rose almost immediately.