Chapter One: The Transformation Program

At six in the morning, the high-speed train station was already bustling. The bullet train glided into the platform, and travelers hurried about, each heading toward their own destination. Amidst the throng, a peculiar group drew curious glances from the passersby.

Leading the group was a handsome but sullen-looking boy, about sixteen or seventeen, backpack slung over his shoulder, his expression dark as he strode into carriage number seven without a word.

Trailing behind him were several cameramen and staff, all hefting heavy filming equipment, making it clear they were shooting a show.

The boy found his seat, sat down, and immediately pulled his cap low over his face, lying back as if to sleep—a clear message for everyone to leave him alone. Yet, undeterred, one of the cameramen set up the camera directly in front of him, capturing his every move.

Other passengers in the carriage craned their necks, watching with open curiosity. The young woman with her hair in a bun in the front row couldn’t resist turning around to ask, “Are you filming a variety show?”

At her words, the boy opened his eyes, his face darkening further. He seemed to want to say something, but in the end, no words came out.

The cameraman beside him replied, “Yes, we’re from the Transformation Project team.”

Transformation Project? At that, the young woman gave a knowing “Oh~,” and then stared at the boy like he was some sort of exhibit. So he was a troubled youth after all—what a waste of such a face.

Oh, what’s that supposed to mean! The boy shot her an annoyed glare and turned to gaze out the window, trying to ignore everything. How did things end up like this?

Zhou Miao let out a long sigh. He had never imagined that his first appearance on television would be on the "Transformation Project," a show dedicated to the reformation of delinquent youths.

The "Transformation Project" is a reality show where children from the city and countryside swap lives, focusing on the conflicts between individuals and their new environments. The city kids chosen are usually all rebellious troublemakers. As a viewer, it's easy to laugh at their struggles in the countryside, but being the one watched like a monkey is quite another matter.

Was this punishment for kicking over Granny Meng’s soup at the Bridge of Forgetfulness in his previous life?

That wasn’t just his imagination. In his last life, Zhou Miao died young at twenty-six from a congenital heart disease. After death, his soul arrived at the underworld’s bridge, and, unwilling to have his memories wiped, he kicked over the old woman holding the soup and dove straight into the Well of Reincarnation.

When he next awoke, he was an infant crying for milk. This life, the nightmare illness never returned.

At five years old, Zhou Miao flipped through all the TV channels, realizing he didn’t recognize a single celebrity. That’s when it dawned on him: this was a parallel world, strikingly similar to his old one, but not quite the same.

So, he scratched out his previous ambition to become an athlete and wrote in a new one: singer.

In his past life, severe heart disease meant he could never get too emotional. His parents constantly reminded him to stay calm—no excitement, no anger, no sadness, not even too much happiness.

So he stayed home, headphones on, and let music fill countless lonely days and nights.

Given a second chance at life, he was determined to leave his mark—through song.

From a young age, Zhou Miao devoted himself to music, learning guitar, piano, voice—anything he could. His parents, seeing his passion, were happy to indulge him.

They couldn’t say what he might achieve, but at least it beat getting into trouble outside. But as Zhou Miao grew older, they realized something was off. He loved music, but he didn’t like studying. Homework went unfinished, copied hastily in the morning; he slept through classes and played piano at night. Now in his second year of high school, he had no interest in preparing for college, and instead formed a band, disappearing after school.

His homeroom teacher was constantly visiting their home, to the point of befriending Zhou Miao’s mother. Just then, the Transformation Project came to his school, looking for problem students.

After a discussion between the teacher and his parents, they decided to send Zhou Miao to the remote mountains, hoping he’d learn the meaning of hardship and perhaps turn over a new leaf.

Despite strong protest, Zhou Miao was forced onto a high-speed train bound for a distant village in Yunnan.

The journey was long. The cameraman tried to make conversation. “Hey, Zhou, have you ever watched the Transformation Project?”

“I have,” Zhou Miao replied expressionlessly.

He’d more than watched it—the show was famous among kids his age. Joking around, they often used its catchphrases: “If you don’t listen to your parents, they’ll send you on the Transformation Project!”

He never imagined he’d really end up on the show.

He could already picture his friends and classmates bursting into laughter when they saw him on TV.

Ah, kill me now...

“Then why do you look so unhappy?” the cameraman pressed.

“Is being on the Transformation Project something to be proud of?” Zhou Miao shot back.

At that, the young woman in front couldn’t help but laugh and interjected, “Hey, little brother, when does your episode air? I actually want to watch it.”

Zhou Miao glared at her, yanked his hood down, and shut his eyes, pretending to be dead, refusing to say another word.

If I don’t speak, there’ll be no footage of me on TV!

Unconsciously, still tired from the early start, Zhou Miao drifted off to sleep. When he was finally shaken awake, it was already eleven in the morning. There was no direct train from Suzhou to Yunnan, so they transferred once, and after the high-speed train, endured another three hours on a long-distance bus.

By the time Zhou Miao, stomach growling, stood at the entrance to Water Buffalo Village, it was already five in the afternoon.

By coincidence, the other two city kids on this season’s Transformation Project had arrived as well. They were standing at the roadside, frozen in fear by three barking mongrel dogs.

Zhou Miao glanced at them: one was a non-mainstream girl with a gaudy, over-the-top hairstyle; the other, a chubby boy with a face as white and round as a steamed bun. Both looked around his age.

“Aren’t you going to do something about those dogs? How are we supposed to get in?” Zhou Miao asked the cameraman.

“From here on, you’ll have to solve all the problems yourselves,” the cameraman replied mercilessly.

Zhou Miao scratched his head. He didn’t want to argue—no point in giving them more footage. But clearly, unless those dogs were dealt with, they weren’t getting in.

The other two were so scared they looked about to wet themselves—no help there. Zhou Miao sighed and stepped forward. What a pain. It always had to be him.

“With country dogs like these, the last thing you should do is show fear. The more afraid you are, the fiercer they get,” Zhou Miao said, taking his bag in hand.

The other two’s eyes lit up at his words. A savior! They hurriedly let him take the lead.

Zhou Miao swallowed hard as he faced the snarling, baring-toothed mutts. Damn, these dogs were pretty vicious.

Still, forcing himself to remain calm, he casually swung his bag at them and shouted, “Get lost!”

Behind him, the other two watched in awe at Zhou Miao’s bravado—until they realized something was wrong. The dogs weren’t scared at all; in fact, they were infuriated and launched themselves at the group, barking madly.

“Oh crap! Run!” Zhou Miao, seeing things about to go south, dropped his bag and bolted. The girl and chubby boy scrambled away in terror, nearly tripping over themselves.

The cameraman, who had just said all problems were up to them, was stunned. From the earpiece came the director’s furious voice: “What are you standing around for? Go save them!”

After a frantic scramble, all three were rescued in one piece—thankfully, they’d run fast enough not to get bitten. Only the chubby boy’s pants were soaked through; he’d clearly wet himself. The non-mainstream girl’s hair stood on end, her face streaked with tears and snot as she glanced around, terrified another dog might appear.

Zhou Miao climbed down from a tree, embarrassed, scratching his head. Great, barely arrived and already made a fool of himself.

Escorted by local elders, the group finally reached their host’s home at the foot of the mountain. The owner was a man in his sixties, slightly stooped, with a weathered face and a stern, taciturn air.

Seeing them arrive, however, he managed a small smile. “You’re here! You must be starving. Come, eat—I've just finished cooking.”

Only Zhou Miao greeted him politely; the other two stormed off inside, flopping down wherever they liked, sulking. The old man had to call several times before they reluctantly settled at the table.

One look at the food, and their faces fell again: roast potatoes, fried potatoes, potato rice, and a greasy pot of chicken and potato stew—hardly appetizing.

“What is this? Why is it all potatoes? How are we supposed to eat this?” the non-mainstream girl complained, her dialect thick with a northeastern twang.

The chubby boy said nothing but poked around the dishes with his chopsticks, looking utterly defeated.

Embarrassed, the old man brought out a bowl of chili powder. “Uh, I didn’t know what you’d like, so let’s just make do tonight. Tomorrow I’ll go to the market. Here, dip it in this chili powder—I made it myself, it’s very flavorful!”

Zhou Miao sighed helplessly. Here it was—the inevitable scene where the city kids make a fuss over their first meal in the countryside, a staple of every season. He had no desire to lecture them; he just wanted to get through his stint as quietly as possible.

He took a roasted potato, dipped it in the chili, and took a bite. It was fragrant, and with the old man's homemade chili powder, surprisingly delicious!

The chubby boy, seeing Zhou Miao eating heartily, squirmed uncomfortably in his wet pants, growing more irritable. He lashed out, “What, just because we’re not eating, you’re going to show off? Trying to make yourself look good compared to us?”

Outside, watching the monitors, the director’s eyes lit up—here comes the conflict!

Zhou Miao found it baffling. “If you don’t want to eat, does that mean no one else can? If you’re so delicate, why don’t you just keep not eating?”

“Screw you—are you looking for a fight?” The chubby boy slammed the table, ready to brawl, but the old man quickly held him back, trying to calm him.

“Don’t fight, don’t fight. You’re all friends, no fighting. Sit down and eat, let’s eat first.”

“Friends? With him? All he does is pretend,” the non-mainstream girl sniffed, pulling out a small comb to fix her hair and mocking Zhou Miao.

Zhou Miao’s eyes narrowed with amusement. “When it comes to pretending, I’m not your equal. You’re like a hen trying to act human—almost pulled it off, except your hair doesn’t look the part.”

The girl flushed scarlet with rage, sputtering but unable to retort. The chubby boy, unable to bear it, jumped in, “You—”

“You what? You’re the one turning your nose up at potatoes—have you looked in the mirror? Short and fat, you look just like a potato. In twenty seasons of Transformation Project, have they ever found someone uglier than you?” Zhou Miao cut him off, rendering him speechless.

Seeing the chubby boy rolling up his sleeves, ready for a fight, Zhou Miao stepped forward, chest out, ramming him slightly. “Want to fight? Even if you jumped, you’d barely reach my knee. With your cowardice, you think you can act tough? Proud to be on Transformation Project, are you?”

The chubby boy, retreating under Zhou Miao’s advance, was eventually backed into a corner. Outmatched both verbally and physically—Zhou Miao stood a head taller at 5’9” to his 5’3”—he glared fiercely, as if about to breathe fire, but in the end, only tears flowed. He howled and rushed out of the house, shouting, “I quit! I’m not filming anymore!”

“Hey, where are you going? It’ll be dark soon!” the old man called after him, stamping his foot in worry.

“Leave him be. The crew won’t let him go far—he’ll be back soon. Let’s eat,” Zhou Miao said, digging into his bowl with gusto. He was famished; he’d had nothing but instant noodles on the train, and his stomach had been complaining for hours.

The non-mainstream girl, stunned by the scene, hesitated, then quietly picked up her chopsticks and started eating.

An hour later, the chubby boy returned, eyes red, accompanied by the director. Without a word, he sat down and started eating the roasted potatoes.