Two thousand?
Every extra second of hesitation was a blatant disrespect to those two thousand bucks!
This way, he could pay Lu Quan back for that ridiculously expensive shirt sooner.
He hated owing anyone anything.
The young man led them backstage. The room was empty except for rows upon rows of all sorts of clothes on one side and a bunch of colorful wigs on the other.
At that moment, the young man pulled a form-fitting long dress from one of the racks.
“Go ahead and change first.”
Liang Zhixia looked helplessly toward Lu Xingzhu. Lu Xingzhu arched a brow. “Does Xia Xia want me to help you put it on?”
Liang Zhixia’s eyes flew wide open. He clutched the clothes to his chest and bolted for the changing room.
The long dress wasn’t hard to put on—it was just… weird.
He stood in front of the mirror, his face flushing red. The skirt had a high slit along the leg, high enough to faintly reveal the color of his underwear underneath. The lace-edged leg bands gripped his pale thighs tightly, squeezing out bits of soft flesh at the edges.
He had a tall, slender figure, and though he was skinny, his body wasn’t scrawny at all—there was flesh where it counted.
Someone called from outside. He tugged at the skirt hem, hesitating. Maybe he should just forget about the two thousand.
He looked ridiculous in the mirror. Totally off.
But the calls from outside grew more urgent, so he had no choice but to open the door.
Before he could even speak, gasps erupted from the group outside.
Blushing furiously, he lifted his head, his lips twitching. “It looks really weird, doesn’t it?”
“It’s perfect!” The young man’s eyes burned with excitement as he shoved his way forward. He waved to another guy, who hurriedly handed over what he was holding.
It was a silver wig—high quality, incredibly realistic.
He had no idea how to put it on. The young man pushed the stranger forward. “This is the makeup artist. He’ll help you.”
The makeup artist secured the silver wig to his head with all sorts of clips, then smeared on various products Liang Zhixia didn’t recognize.
When it was all done, he opened his eyes and stared at the person in the mirror.
He looked like a completely different person.
His sharp, defined features had softened into something more feminine. His plump, rosy lips glistened with lipstick. His thick, dense lashes fluttered delicately. Delicate butterfly clips adorned his small earlobes, while sparkly decorations framed his eyes, their corners flicked up just enough to hint at allure.
He touched the silver locks that fell to his waist. The quality was top-notch, feeling just like real hair.
Finally, the makeup artist painted teardrop-shaped marks beneath his eyes with some pigment. It was the perfect finishing touch, vivid and lifelike.
Time waited for no one. Before Liang Zhixia could hear what his friend thought, the young man hustled him toward the exhibition area.
As they walked, the young man explained, “This character’s simple—High Mountain Flower. You don’t have to say a word. Just half-recline there, eyes closed, and occasionally interact a bit. Pose for photos.”
He slowed his steps, hesitating. “I have to take photos too?”
Lu Xingzhu, walking beside him, poked his cheek. “Xia Xia, you’re all made up—no one will recognize you. I’ll have them add another thousand for your appearance fee.”
“Fine.”
The character was insanely popular. Liang Zhixia glanced at the line in front of him. It stretched on forever.
The sacred white dress trailed along the ground. His straight, slender legs peeked out from the hem now and then, his porcelain-smooth skin gleaming. He half-reclined, body slightly turned to the side, following the young man’s instructions. He closed his eyes and became the sleeping beauty.
The lifelike teardrops shimmered beneath his eyes. The organizers had even set up scenery around him. The impatient crowd calmed instantly—and grew even more excited.
“She looks just like her! What’s her name? I need to follow!”
“Where’d the organizers find this cosplayer? She’s gorgeous!”
“Wow, her skin is flawless!”
“Anyone find her account? Why didn’t they post her name?”
Lying there pretending to sleep, Liang Zhixia naturally overheard them. They’d agreed beforehand not to put his name out there. After all, this was a one-time thing—dressing up as a girl.
Little did Liang Zhixia know that dressing as a girl only happens zero times or countless times.
He spent the entire afternoon posing for photos with fans. When Comic-Con wrapped up, so did his gig.
The makeup artist removed everything. A flicker of fatigue crossed his delicate, pretty face, but his eyes still shone with satisfaction and joy.
They paid daily here. The event had barely ended when three thousand bucks hit his phone.
The colorful balloon that had been tied to his wrist earlier was long gone. He felt a twinge of regret—he’d planned to take it back to the dorm and keep it inflated for a few days.
Just as the two of them were about to leave Comic-Con, the young man came running up with a bag. He shoved it into Liang Zhixia’s hands, panting. “These are all yours—brand new. Thanks for saving our asses today.”
With that, he dashed off again, looking swamped.
Liang Zhixia blinked dumbly at the bag and opened it. Clothes?
He lifted the fabric for a peek, then shoved it back inside. His fingertips clenched the bag’s opening so tight it rustled loudly.
Even though he was quick, Lu Xingzhu still caught a glimpse.
“Didn’t expect them to give you these.” Seeing his friend didn’t seem thrilled, he added, “Those pieces are expensive. You could sell them.”
Liang Zhixia took that in and quietly gripped the bag tighter.
If they could be sold for money, then they were useful.
His makeup-free face was clean and fair. Under the streetlights, his light tea-colored eyes sparkled like they held entire galaxies.
The two of them went for dinner afterward. After working all afternoon, he was starving—his stomach practically glued to his spine. They devoured a ton of food.
Once they were stuffed, Lu Xingzhu asked curiously, “You still chatting with that guy?”
Liang Zhixia knew exactly who he meant and nodded.
“How much longer?”
He was about to say two months when he remembered the message from L that afternoon.
His face heated up. “At most half a month,” he said stiffly.
Lu Xingzhu mulled it over and nodded. Seemed doable.
That very night, Liang Zhixia had a dream.
An indistinct-faced man loomed over him, propped on his arms. Something hot, wet, and sticky wrapped around his fingers. He looked down to see the man licking them with his tongue.
His fingers glistened with saliva. The man leaned in close to his ear and nipped gently.
A low, husky pant sounded right in his ear without warning. His heart hammered in his chest, his body heating up uncontrollably.
He wanted to escape, but he couldn’t.
The man took his left ring finger into his mouth. His tongue—wet and pink—teased and nibbled the sensitive inner side, sending tingles racing through him. All the while, the man kept talking, his voice breathless and intimate.
“Zhizhi’s fingers are so pretty. I want to lick them every day.”
It was his own dream, yet Liang Zhixia had no control over his body. He could only watch as those long, elegant hands roamed over him.
“Zhizhi’s lips are pretty too. Can I lick them?”
Callused fingertips brushed his lips, then trailed slowly downward to his neck. It tickled, but he couldn’t pull away.
“Zhizhi’s body is pretty as well. Can I lick it? I promise I’ll be gentle. Won’t hurt you at all.”
At some point, his sleepwear had turned into the white dress from Comic-Con. Someone gripped the lace-edged leg bands tight. The man seemed obsessed with his legs, pressing his scorching palm against them. The heat made him shiver.
A helpless whimper escaped him.
Just as the man’s lips and tongue were about to touch him, he jolted awake.
The dorm was silent except for his ragged breathing.
He shifted and froze solid. In disbelief, he glanced under the covers.
Suddenly, he clapped his burning hands over his face and buried his head in the pillow.
After a long moment, he nervously drew back the bed curtain, the flush still lingering at his eye corners. He flicked on his flashlight and shone it briefly across at the opposite bunk.
Lu Quan was asleep.
Only then did he exhale in relief. He snatched some clothes from the wardrobe and darted into the bathroom.
Unbeknownst to him, the instant the bathroom door clicked shut, Lu Quan—supposedly asleep—opened his eyes. There wasn’t a trace of grogginess in them.
He listened to the sounds from the bathroom. As a man himself, he knew exactly what was going on.
That kittenish whimper from moments ago echoed insistently in his ears. Slowly, he closed his eyes and cranked up the volume on his headphones, Zhizhi’s voice filling them.
The next day.
Liang Zhixia was back on the sports field as the mascot, clutching his phone and searching with his head down.
[What if you have a wet dream about your chat companion…]
He deleted it.
Typed again.
[What if you start liking your chat companion…]
Deleted, retyped.
[What does it mean when a male chat companion says he likes you?]
Replies poured in almost immediately.
Most said not to take it seriously—it was just the job.
Liang Zhixia figured the same.
He scrolled down, but one reply stood out.
[Just seduce him. Make him fall for you, then dump him.]
Someone asked how.
[Put on a dress and seduce him, duh!]
Liang Zhixia jerked his head up. His profile still listed his gender as male.
…He’d forgotten to change it.
But that idea? He could think about it.
Zhizhi: Good idea [Cat] [Cat] [Cat]
