In my previous life, I made a name for myself at the National Intelligent Robotics Competition, only to be accused afterward of stealing my younger brother’s first love’s research. My own brother stepped forward to clear her name and produced the complete program code. Furious netizens cursed me, saying I deserved to die, while my parents told me I might as well jump off a building and kill myself. I developed depression, but my family sent me to a psychiatric hospital, where I was abused to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the eve of the competition. I immediately announced that I wouldn’t participate, and everyone panicked.
