It was Tang Coco’s first time undressing in front of someone else, moving like a hesitant fawn, while Aunt Qin watched with a sun-warm smile.

Yup—so very Yiyi’s taste. Pink lingerie, soft as cherry bloom.

Coco’s cheeks tinted like a ripe peach. Uh… Yiyi bought all of these.

Mm, they suit you—cute as spring rain—but with your willow waist and moonlit poise, you can try many palettes. I’ll grab a few.

Oh… sorry to trouble you, Aunt Qin. Her voice dipped like a bow.

Aunt Qin slipped out of the fitting room, and standing in only lingerie felt like winter air on bare skin, so Coco drifted to a chair like a harbor.

Hmm? The sound rose like a sparrow.

She’d barely sat when the wall-length mirror caught her eye, a tall lake set in the wall, and she stepped to it as if moth to flame.

A blush bloomed like dawn on water, then a small smile opened like a petal. Her poses followed, the kind girls do for photos, silk loosening with each motion.

For the last one, she crouched sideways like a cat, legs folded in a neat stack, one hand on her waist, the other finger hush-pressed to her lips.

Her chin tipped up, a slim crescent catching the light.

Mm, that pose is truly tempting, came Aunt Qin’s voice like a breeze from behind.

Ah! Coco startled like a bird under sudden thunder, sprang upright, head bowed like reed in wind.

Hahaha, what’s there to be shy about? It’s normal for a girl. When I was young, I played mirror games too, alone and giggling.

Oh… Her reply was a pebble dropped into a pond.

Here, start with black—midnight lace with a whisper of moon.

Coco took the set, hesitation knotting in her chest like a tight tide.

Truth was, she’d always liked lace back when she was a man; now it would sit on her own skin like night on snow.

What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?

No… I… Her words snagged like a fish on a hook.

Shy? It’s fine. There’s a little cubicle in the corner, a seashell just for changing lingerie.

Aunt Qin’s patience flowed like tea. Coco carried the set to that nook like a quiet stream.

Steady, she told herself, heart firm like stone. If I chose to change, I’ve got to see it through.

She shed the pink like falling petals and fastened the black like midnight stitching shut. In moments, she stepped out, dew-like cuteness traded for slow-burning spice.

Mm… very good. Aunt Qin’s gaze was a lantern in mist.

Why keep tugging that strap? Is it uncomfortable?

She watched Coco’s left hand lightly pull the side strap at her hip, the bottom piece like a ribbon at tide’s edge.

Only by tugging did Coco feel clothed, like grasping a kite string; after the question, she let it go, hands calm as still water.

Hehe. Aunt Qin’s laugh curled like warm steam.

But that’s not enough. Real allure is a veil of mystery, moon behind clouds. Wait, I’ll find you a few things.

She slipped out quick as a breeze. Coco stepped to the mirror, cheeks flushed like sunset, eyes drifting over herself like a painter’s brush.

Here, put this on. Aunt Qin returned with an armful of fabric, an armful of garden.

Okay… Her voice was soft, like wind through bamboo.

Coco unfolded the pieces, studying knots like twining vines, lost for a beat until Aunt Qin guided her hand like a lantern in dusk.

Alright, I’ll help you dress. After that, put on these shoes—black and red, a platform like stepping on embers.

Aunt Qin moved with swift hands, a sudden gust, leaving Coco no room to refuse.

Outside, Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan picked their favorites, fabrics floating like clouds, planning to have Aunt Qin judge them later.

They drifted to Coco’s fitting-room door, waiting like swallows on a rail for the moment to rise.

Soon, the door opened, and when Coco stepped out, both women froze, breath swept away like a tide.

A deep-purple dress wrapped her like grape dusk, its open neckline a snowy swath at throat and collarbone, winter-light against night silk.

Two purple ribbons arced from the bust’s sides over her shoulders, twin streams crossing the moon.

Her waist was cinched, a willow stem revealed, and a red sash ringed it, a fire ribbon knotted as a giant bow behind.

Its tails fell like twin comets down her back. The skirt’s hem was orange-red, pleats fluttering like autumn leaves just grazing the tops of her thighs.

On her feet, black-red platform heels stood like lacquered steps, straps winding her calves like ivy and ending in little bows.

Wow! Is that really Coco? Ye Yiyi’s voice sparked like a struck match.

It’s… pretty… Coco’s blush rained soft peach over her cheeks.

More than pretty—dangerously alluring, like a night-blooming flower caught at its hour. Li Muyan’s praise rang like polished steel.

She’d known Coco’s base would dazzle like a fresh blade, but the impact was a sudden flare, lanterns lit all at once.

If this weren’t a public place, I’d pin you to the wall and let the fire take the tinder.

Uh… you dirty woman, isn’t that too much… Coco fanned herself with words like a silk sleeve.

She wouldn’t admit she’d gone slack-jawed in the mirror too, this body and face carved like jade, perfection so smooth it felt unreal yet solid as stone.

A dream traced in mist, a grain you can touch; curiosity about her transformation stirred like a hidden current, but now wasn’t the hour for riddles.

Good, good—looks like everyone’s pleased. Let’s change into the next set. Aunt Qin’s clap snapped like bamboo.

Ah? More changes? Her protest fluttered like a trapped sparrow.

Of course. I want to see Coco in every season, every style like turning pages.

Come on, inside. Aunt Qin’s hand beckoned like a warm breeze.

Alright… Coco sighed, a leaf finally falling.