Reborn: I'm the One Who Leaves First

Hugh's POV

Upon hearing my agreement, Monica Shepherd, my benefactress, paused mid-drag on her cigarette. She then turned to look at me, chuckling softly before blowing a plume of smoke right into my face. She drawled playfully, asking, "What's the matter, Hugh? Did I upset you?"

I held her gaze through the hazy smoke, looking completely serious. "I'm doing what you told me to do, so shouldn't you be happy about it?"

Monica held my gaze for a couple of seconds, her expression unreadable. She then let out a sudden, mocking laugh and rose to her feet with a languid air. "You'd better stay in your lane; being my husband isn't something you should ever think about, Hugh.

It was such a simple truth, yet in my past life, I stubbornly refused to heed the advice. I was a poor student sponsored by Monica, who had encountered me at the age of 16 years old while accompanying her grandfather, Darren Shepherd, to the countryside.

I was only 12 years old back then, an age when I should have been a young lad, but because of malnutrition, I looked like an eight- or nine-year-old boy. I didn't really have any sense of gender boundaries back then, so I stripped naked to catch fish in the reservoir.

Monica, who was passing by, caught sight of me and called me up in disbelief. She blushed deeply upon seeing me standing stark naked in front of her. She hurriedly took off her coat and threw it over me.

It was quite strange, really. I had always been completely thick-skinned and shameless, but because of that single action of hers, I suddenly understood what it felt like to be embarrassed.

Mr. Shepherd Senior had spent his life as a philanthropist, and Monica seemed determined to follow in his footsteps.

She had emptied an entire summer's allowance to purchase my freedom from my father and stepmother, then taken me away with her. She was well-educated, kind, and beautiful, caring for me in a manner that was almost maternal.

Thus, it was pretty much impossible for me not to fall for her.

Monica hated me, though, a realization that nearly broke my heart. I didn't know when it had started, nor did I understand why, but by the time I understood the truth, I had already met my death in that dark, squalid alley.

I quickly got dressed, got up, and returned to my room once I finally gathered my thoughts. I turned on my laptop and decided to pursue the dream I had abandoned in my past life.

I signed up for a government program placing university graduates in rural administrative posts, planning to return to my hometown to contribute to its development.

In my past life, Monica had reacted with intense aversion upon learning of it, going so far as to smash my laptop right before the registration deadline.

I chose not to tell anyone in this life, though. I finally breathed a sigh of relief after submitting my application.

In the next instant, Monica's voice suddenly rang out. "What are you signing up for?"

I slammed my laptop shut and looked back. Monica and Michael Harrison were standing side-by-side in my room. They looked like a well-matched couple, both equally good-looking.

Michael was dressed plainly, his thin hands tightly clenched. He looked as if he were afraid of me. "I came to ask Monica for help with some questions, Hugh. She mentioned she'd gone over them with you before, so she wanted to borrow your study guides to look at."

I was momentarily dazed, realizing Michael was actually quite similar to how I used to be, whether it was his style of dress or certain micro-expressions.

Upon seeing me frozen there, Monica assumed I didn't want to lend them to Michael. "How can you be so selfish, Hugh? Those—"

I didn't even wait for her to finish before I turned around. I grabbed the study guides Monica had bought me—along with all the key notes she had personally written—and stuffed them all into Michael's arms.

Monica instantly froze, her gaze full of confusion.

In my past life, I had made a huge fuss over these study guides, protecting them as if my life depended on it. Michael had played the victim, crying and claiming it was his fault, only to steal the study materials away when I wasn't around.