Bai Ying did not resist wearing a skirt.
After all, before he started elementary school, there had not been enough boys’ clothes at the orphanage, so the teachers had basically dressed him up as a girl. Moreover, this gauze skirt was truly beautiful. In the Ghost House, Bai Ying had been completely captivated by the Ghost Bride, even forgetting his fear.
But… now that he had grown up, wearing a skirt would be quite strange, wouldn’t it?
“You’ve come all this way,” Liu Qingzhang said with an argument Bai Ying could not easily refuse. “Why not take some photos as a memento?”
As everyone knew, the phrase “you’ve come all this way” was just like “it’s the holidays”—once spoken, the words that followed were hard to turn down.
Bai Ying’s already wavering heart finally tipped completely toward Liu Qingzhang.
But he had one more issue.
“Hiss hiss?” Through the transparent glass of the display case, the little white snake tilted its head, staring at the skirt’s layers of gauze. The little snake’s beady eyes gradually turned bewildered. The skirts it had worn before were the simplest styles, but this elaborate gown? Just trying to figure out its structure could turn the little snake’s already small brain into a mushy mess.
How exactly was this skirt supposed to be worn?
The little snake could not speak human words, but Liu Qingzhang knew exactly what was confusing it.
When had he ever understood how to put on a lady’s formal gown? Having a girl from the Zhong Family teach the little snake might have been the best choice. But some inexplicable possessiveness made Liu Qingzhang unwilling to let anyone else see Bai Ying’s appearance next.
He said softly, “I’ll help you.”
The little snake coiled on the counter, nervously yet expectantly nibbling on its own tail.
Liu Qingzhang, now back in human form, was on the phone with the souvenir shop’s manager. After learning the location of the display case key, he hung up. He entered the code to open the hidden safe in the souvenir shop. Inside was only a metallic box with a turquoise shell. He gently unlatched it to reveal a brass key embedded with three small gems resting on a red velvet cushion.
This was the largest souvenir shop in the Amusement Park. The dance skirt, displayed solely for show, sat in a spot visible to everyone upon entering the store, surrounded by plush toys shaped like ghosts, black cats, and skulls.
The brass key slid into the lock with a soft click, and the glass door opened. Liu Qingzhang carefully lifted out the white gauze dance skirt—which was periodically taken for maintenance but had never been worn by anyone until this night. He returned to the little snake, picked it up with one hand, and gently placed it on a soft stool inside the shop.
Only when Liu Qingzhang reminded him to transform back did Bai Ying dazedly realize that he was really going to wear it…
The little snake’s beady eyes stared at Liu Qingzhang hesitantly for a long time, but Liu Qingzhang showed no sign of turning away. Instead, his gaze silently urged the little snake on. Bai Ying agonized over it, but finally thought: Mr. Liu was his kin, his elder, and a fellow male. They’d even bathed together in hot springs… so transforming back into human form right in front of Mr. Liu should be fine, right?
The little white snake vanished, replaced by a youth with a slender naked body. Bai Ying lowered his eyelashes, not daring to look up, and grabbed the skirt to cover himself.
But Liu Qingzhang pressed his hand down.
Bai Ying’s body stiffened instantly. Then he heard Liu Qingzhang say, “Let me see how it goes on.”
“…Ah, o-okay.” Bai Ying stammered. Fortunately, besides the dance skirt, the matching veil from the Ghost Bride was also in the display case, and Liu Qingzhang had taken it out as well.
Bai Ying used the veil to shield his body, but it was translucent, vaguely outlining the contours of his form.
He brainwashed himself: Mr. Liu is an elder, Mr. Liu is an elder, Mr. Liu is an elder… To him, I’m just a kid, a kid, a kid… So even if he sees my body, it should be fine!
Liu Qingzhang also told himself that Bai Ying was no different from a child to him—a junior.
He deliberately ignored his dry mouth and racing thoughts, deliberately avoiding why he wanted to stay.
His gaze lingered for several seconds on the youth draped in white gauze, knees drawn up on the soft stool. Only then did the great demon, still considering himself merely an elder, turn his attention to the skirt in his arms.
Though he had never dealt with skirts before, Liu Qingzhang quickly figured out how the dance skirt worked. He casually set aside the matching petticoat—the hoops would be uncomfortable anyway, so no need to trouble the little snake. The skirt’s ten or so layers of gauze would puff out slightly even without it, preventing it from collapsing flat.
He fully untied the laces at the back. Kneeling on one knee before the stool, he gestured for Bai Ying to extend his legs so he could slide the skirt up from below. The little snake clutched the covering veil, moving a bit slowly, so Liu Qingzhang supported the back of his knees.
Bai Ying realized a serious problem and said weakly, “Mr. Liu, I haven’t put on any underwear yet…”
When he transformed back into a little snake, all his clothes fell off, including his undergarments. Liu Qingzhang had collected them in a bag and handed it to a Zhong Family member acting as staff; they were not at hand.
And Liu Qingzhang had not asked anyone to bring clothes just now, which meant Bai Ying was completely naked…
“It’s fine,” Liu Qingzhang said. His palm slid down the smooth skin, grasping Bai Ying’s calf to help guide his leg into the skirt. “The skirt is long.”
Even without anything underneath, it wouldn’t show from outside.
That made sense, but the little snake, who had never done this before, felt utterly mortified. Yet the great snake acted completely unfazed, so… it must be okay, right?
Once both legs were in and it was time to pull the skirt up, Bai Ying realized he had no shoes either.
The Ghost Bride in the Ghost House had danced barefoot, but that puppet was suspended by thin wires, never touching the ground. Bai Ying, however, could not avoid the floor.
The souvenir shop floor looked clean, but it had been walked on by countless shod feet, so it must have dust. The cleanliness-obsessed little snake pulled his feet back.
“Step on my shoes,” Liu Qingzhang instructed.
Bai Ying’s pale bare feet stepped onto the surface of the black leather shoes.
It was a bit hard on his soles, so he rose onto his tiptoes. To keep balance, he had to lean toward Liu Qingzhang, steadying himself on his shoulder. Bai Ying’s cheek nearly pressed against Liu Qingzhang’s shoulder. He felt Mr. Liu’s hand reach around to his back—the skirt had been pulled up. It was a strapless gown that exposed the back.
“Will it fall down?” Bai Ying asked uneasily.
After all, his chest was a man’s—barely curved. Even with anti-slip strips inside the gown, he remained anxious.
“It won’t.” Liu Qingzhang reassured him. His lips were very close to Bai Ying’s ear, his warm breath brushing the earlobe, bringing a tingling itch. Bai Ying flinched away, but encircled in Liu Qingzhang’s arms, leaning back would upset his balance. He could only press closer, burying his face in the crook of Liu Qingzhang’s neck.
Liu Qingzhang tightened the laces at the back of the gown.
The slender, supple waist—like a snake’s—was accentuated. Liu Qingzhang’s hand brushed over Bai Ying’s bare back, where there was a dip.
It tickled.
As Liu Qingzhang’s fingers trailed down that dip, Bai Ying thought involuntarily. He held still, merely gripping Liu Qingzhang’s shoulder tighter.
“Done?” Bai Ying asked, unaware that he had unconsciously arched his chest slightly and tensed his waist.
“Done.” Liu Qingzhang tied off the bow with its dangling ribbons, then finally lifted Bai Ying and set him back on the soft stool.
Looking at the youth cradling the white gauze skirts in his hands, eyes downcast in shy unease, Liu Qingzhang smiled and praised, “Very beautiful.”
Liu Qingzhang took many photos.
Bai Ying sitting on the stool, sitting amid the plush toys, with the veil on, without the veil… He had Bai Ying step on his shoes again to photograph the little snake fully leaning against him in the full-length mirror. Or he reopened the display case, letting Bai Ying stand on the soft velvet pedestal, snapping shots through the glass where Bai Ying looked like a beautiful doll in a showcase.
“Mr. Liu, are you treating me like a doll?” After so long, the little snake propped his chin and could not help asking.
“One last one,” Liu Qingzhang promised. “You look so good right now that I couldn’t help taking a few more.”
Once praised, the little snake shyly lowered his lashes, but at Liu Qingzhang’s voice, he would lift his shimmering eyes, peering through the white gauze toward the lens.
The veil was long, with a short front and long back—even the shorter side nearly reached the floor. When Bai Ying sat up, the white gauze enveloped him completely. The gown and veil, made to the puppet’s size, fit Bai Ying perfectly; he matched the dancing figure in the Ghost House in height and build.
Through the white gauze, he gazed at the lens—at Liu Qingzhang. He had not had time to get a haircut these days; his hair had grown a bit long, the ends nearly reaching his shoulders. Sometimes he tied it into a small ponytail at the back with a hair tie.
The gauze blurred his features, making him seem somewhat androgynous for a moment. Liu Qingzhang felt as if he were seeing a fairy hidden in the white mists of a forest.
He had no intent to bewitch, yet any traveler stumbling into the woods and parting the leaves to witness this would likely only think to take him home and cherish him.
Possessiveness surged uncontrollably, impossible to suppress—only ignored for now. But one day, it would swell until self-deception was no longer possible.
After pressing the shutter to capture the moment, Liu Qingzhang’s finger gently traced the little snake’s cheek in the photo. Finally, he reluctantly pocketed his phone and asked Bai Ying, “Want to play up on the castle?”
“I can’t walk,” Bai Ying said, wiggling his bare feet coquettishly. “And I’m tired.”
“I’ll carry you up,” Liu Qingzhang replied. “If you’re tired, we can just catch the breeze at the top of the high tower.”
“Okay—” Bai Ying drew out the word.
The little snake threw himself into the great snake’s arms, wrapping around his neck. Liu Qingzhang scooped him up bridal-style. His arms were steady, his pace unhurried. Bai Ying felt no jolts in his embrace—only security.
An adult man’s weight was like a feather to a great demon. Even carrying him from the Ghost House all the way up the castle’s high tower brought no fatigue—only concern that he might accidentally crush this tender leaf with too much force.
The wind atop the high tower was strong. Liu Qingzhang unbuttoned his overcoat, letting Bai Ying slip inside. Bai Ying nuzzled him affectionately. If he had done this as a little snake, Liu Qingzhang would have found it merely cute. But now, he was a youth so stunningly beautiful it dazzled the eyes.
Liu Qingzhang’s thoughts scattered for an instant. Silently, he held Bai Ying tighter.
It was as if, from the moment he first saw the little snake, his stagnant heart had begun pounding wildly for him, beyond his control. He alone wrestled with it; Bai Ying remained blissfully unaware.
He simply depended on him with pure-hearted trust, as he did now, saying softly, “Mr. Liu, thank you. There are so many things I wouldn’t know who to tell except you…”
When troubled, people instinctively sought help from friends, teachers, or family. Bai Ying had lived twenty-five years, made many friends, and been taught by numerous teachers. But perhaps because his life had always lacked family, whenever he felt down, he yearned most for comfort from kin.
This kin specifically meant elders, like parents.
He had never had them. His birth parents were ordinary snakes from the wilds, their lineage dead for generations. The orphanage teachers could have played that role, but with so many children to care for, even their fondness for Bai Ying left him scant love and attention.
Only upon meeting Liu Qingzhang did that missing piece in Bai Ying’s life seem filled.
Liu Qingzhang was not blood kin, nor had he raised him. But he was the only demon Bai Ying knew—and a snake like him. Bai Ying could not help drawing close, depending on him. And every time he did, Liu Qingzhang responded.
“Thank you for coming to keep me company tonight,” Bai Ying said, returning Liu Qingzhang’s embrace with a tight hug.
Liu Qingzhang murmured, “I can always be with you.”
Bai Ying joked, “Like parents with a child?”
It was a joke, but as he said it, a faint expectation stirred in Bai Ying’s heart.
Yet Liu Qingzhang immediately replied, “No, not that kind of relationship.”
This was a completely subconscious response, blurted out without thinking, and Liu Qingzhang even paused slightly in surprise.
Why couldn’t it be that kind of relationship?
He wanted to grow even closer to the little snake. The bond between parents and child was obviously far more intimate than that of an ordinary elder and junior.
Why was he unwilling? This step could be taken with ease—it was a smooth, open path laid right before him—yet Liu Qingzhang insisted on choosing a thorny, rugged trail overgrown with brambles.
What he wanted was…
Bai Ying’s mood sank a little. “It’s fine. Things are good just like this.”
His low spirits lasted only a moment before he quickly let it go, embarrassment taking over instead. In his heart, he scolded himself as an idiot. Who went around begging someone to be their dad? He was just a tiny little snake, while Liu Qingzhang was a massive one. The gap between them was enormous—wasn’t this just putting Mr. Liu in an awkward spot?
Bai Ying stopped dwelling on it and nestled into Liu Qingzhang’s arms, the night breeze now gentle and no longer biting cold.
But Liu Qingzhang found himself rooted in place by Bai Ying’s words. “Things are good just like this”—yet he wasn’t satisfied. He was like a greedy serpent that could never fill its belly. Over and over, he questioned himself in his mind: What do I want? And through the endless cycle of interrogation and denial, the truest desire buried in his heart could no longer be hidden.
