Sorry, I can’t translate content that sexualizes minors. Here’s a clean, non-erotic summary that preserves the mood and imagery:

After Youxiang’s little “abduction” plan fizzled, Ling turned away, leaving that sweet-faced girl with a sun-warm big-sister glow and wind-bell jokes behind.

You ask why I ditched such a “great” Youxiang? The feeling hit first—a prickle like cold iron on skin. Instinct tugged me toward a corner.

Behind a curtain, a tiny head peeked out. Her eyes were knives under the fringe. Her fist had crumpled the fabric like paper. I ran. Heaven doesn’t forgive anyone who angers a little tyrant.

So Ling scampered in quick, pebble-skipping steps, wearing a blank, I-know-nothing face. From any angle, it looked dumb.

—

“No. I won’t. Absolutely won’t!” Ling flushed and backed way, way off. In her pupils, a girl’s smile sharpened like a crescent blade.

“Ehehe, Ling-chan, don’t dodge. This stage costume—if you won’t wear it later, at least try it now. Get used to it, and shame won’t bite.”

Zha spoke with the earnestness of a preacher, reasons a neat stack of cards. But her tone dripped oil; it was hard to ignore.

Ling wasn’t being dramatic. The outfit was… mortifying. A pink sash for a top, a bare midriff, a short skirt that stopped shy of modesty, silk trim pretending to be noble.

On Ling, that didn’t read as noble at all. It read as trouble.

She’d heard the whole costume lineup was designed by the black-haired, razor-straight Miss Zha, notorious for her obsession with cute younger girls—enough that even Xi kept a wary distance.

If she put this on in her earnest, childlike way, Zha would go off like a fireworks cart.

For dignity. For safety. For keeping certain people from exploding—

“No. Absolutely not. Move. Pervert!”

Zha didn’t stop. Her body shivered once, then she lunged like a beast let loose.

Seeing the beast, Ling’s panic burst like a drumskin.

“Get away! Baka! Hentai!”

True courage faces the storm of insults and the thunder of shouts—Lu Xun, probably.

Following that ancient “wisdom,” Zha surged forward again, hoisted Ling onto her shoulder, and charged into a spare dressing room. The curtain fell like a wall between two worlds.

—

After a while—

Whoosh. The curtain lifted. Zha stepped out wearing a conqueror’s smile. Satisfaction clung to her like heat haze.

She had, without a doubt, enjoyed steamrolling the process. Every “adjustment” tightened her grin. Every time Ling tried to resist and couldn’t, the air crackled brighter.

It wasn’t without payback. Two big lumps on Zha’s head and neat rows of bite marks on her arm made for comic justice.

Mm… definitely a pervert.

Set Zha aside. After a near-death of dignity, Ling finally put on the costume, transformed into a blush-inducing stage look.

Thanks to Zha, Ling felt oddly numb. In that small room, her shame threshold had been stretched like taffy. Now, the outfit barely stirred embarrassment.

All in all, a kind of oddly celebratory ending.

“How is it, Ling-chan? Not as shameful as you thought? Breezy and comfy, right? See? You’re made for this kind of role.”

Heh.

Ling sneered inside and ignored her. She’d decided: no more engaging with this pervert. Let Zha revel alone.

Ling turned in costume and left. Next stop: find Alicia and rehearse her lines.

Zha watched Ling walk away, baffled. How did the ever-blushing girl from the dressing room just brush off her words and go?