A flicker of doubt skimmed across Scarlet Leaf’s eyes, like a cloud sliding over a pale moon. Lingcai felt her right eyelid jerk, sharp as a startled sparrow.

We were cooked. The air tasted like a storm about to break.

Back in Child’s hometown, nothing scared Lingcai more than making Scarlet Leaf cry—tears falling like summer rain. Yet another fear sat colder beneath it.

It was when Scarlet Leaf went from sobbing to solemn in a heartbeat, like a lake freezing under night wind.

Moments like that, she turned razor‑bright and terrifying.

Tears still clung to the corner of Scarlet Leaf’s eyes, silver as dew, but her expression was steady enough to chill bone.

Lingcai knew then—thanks to Xueyu, that stubborn pig‑teammate—the truth would be hard to bury. Her gut dropped like a stone into deep water.

“How did A… how did Lingcai end up as Her Highness’s stand‑in?” Scarlet Leaf’s words were smooth but edged, like silk hiding a blade. “Two people who look so different—how do you tie that together?”

Scarlet Leaf threw her question first, an arrow in clear air. Lingcai, hollow with guilt, had her script ready but couldn’t meet Scarlet Leaf’s gaze. Her voice snagged like thread.

“Uh… it was cross‑dressing. He… I mean, dressed as a girl, then made up as the princess… that’s all…”

A glimmer of a clue bloomed in Scarlet Leaf’s mind, like ink seeping into rice paper. She leaned closer to Lingcai’s ducked head and studied her features, patient as a painter.

“But I remember Lingcai was expelled for an accident, right? So how did he meet Her Highness?”

On the surface, Lingcai looked calm. Inside, cold sweat ran from scalp to spine like winter rain.

Even so, she believed Scarlet Leaf couldn’t read anything off her face. She kept her voice level, cool as water in a clay bowl.

“It was… a chance meeting on the road. A chance meeting, then he stepped in and saved her life…”

Scarlet Leaf leaned closer, serious as a lantern lit at dusk. She examined Lingcai again, then suddenly asked:

“Tell me honestly—are you Lingcai?”

Thud.

Lingcai’s heart seemed to skip a beat, like a drum falling silent mid‑song. For a breath, she almost confessed. Then reason rose like a wall. She forced herself into the lie, her tone relaxed and flat, like a pond hiding its depth.

“Miss Scarlet Leaf, that’s a stretch. How would a perfectly normal man suddenly turn into a girl just like that?”

Doubt faded a fraction from Scarlet Leaf’s gaze, like mist thinning under morning light. She let out a heavy breath tinged with disappointment, a sigh that rustled like dying leaves.

“Right… that makes sense… Forgive me. I worried too much.”

Whew. Air finally returned like wind through a cracked window.

But just as Lingcai let her guard drop, Scarlet Leaf’s next question landed like a pebble in still water:

“Then when did you turn into a girl?”

“Ah. Don’t ask. It happened after the expulsion accident and then… uh…”

Scarlet Leaf’s eyes shifted from suspicion to certainty, like dawn melting the night. Lingcai stared, mind blank, then quietly slapped her own cheek.

“Ah… no… wait…”

Am I an idiot?

Two lines in and I walked right into her net.

Lingcai shot an awkward glance at Xueyu, hoping for rescue.

Xueyu spread her hands, helpless as a cat caught in rain. This mess was yours. No words would save you.

You absolute genius.

Desperate, Lingcai went for one last struggle. “Cough… sorry, that came out wrong, Miss Scarlet Leaf… please let me explain…”

Her last defense shattered when Scarlet Leaf surged forward, tears shining like glass beads, and wrapped her in a trembling embrace.

Scarlet Leaf buried her face against Lingcai’s chest. Her voice broke like thin ice.

“Mhm… any explanation works… I’m listening, I’ll listen to anything… Lingcai… I missed you so much…”

Scarlet Leaf pressed close, and Lingcai almost couldn’t breathe, crushed by warmth and need. After a long moment, Lingcai stroked her hair, smooth as silk threads, and let the embrace settle like rain on parched earth.

“…I missed you too… Leaf… mm‑mm…”

Unlike slender girls light as reeds, Scarlet Leaf was soft and plush, springy like fresh mochi. When her cheek nuzzled close, it was dangerously easy to sink into that comfort.

Just don’t say “fat” or “chubby” in front of her. Never.

“Lin—gcai—”

“Le—af—”

“Cai—”

“Leaf—”

The whole room reeked with syrupy love, thick as melted honey.

In that moment, Xueyu felt just how extra she was, like a blinding 1000‑watt spotlight in a midnight garden.

Weren’t we supposed to be acting?

Lure the dog in and kill it?

To cover her bone‑deep embarrassment, Xueyu tried to become background—fading like ink wash into the wall.

“I’m scenery… you can’t see me, can’t see me…”

She was almost translucent when Scarlet Leaf’s words pulled her back out of the backdrop like a hook in a pond.

“You must be the real bodyguard, right? Thank you for looking after our Lingcai. If there’s nothing else, can we go home now?”

Her face brightened with hope, like lanterns lit across a bridge. The first half was polite. The second half—taking Lingcai home—was the truth in her heart.

Dragged out of the background, Xueyu waved weakly, resigned as wind through bamboo. “All right, all right. Nothing else. You two go home. May you live happily ever after…”

Scarlet Leaf tightened her arms around Lingcai, fierce as a hawk with prey. “Home! Let’s go home now! Wait—no, let’s get married right here first! We’ll rent the Royal Capital’s biggest hall! The priciest dresses! Uh… how big are the halls in the capital?”

On the road, Scarlet Leaf had already planned this like beads counted on a string. Child’s region was remote. It had grown in recent years, but landmark buildings were rare, churches few and far between. The largest one came from a retired cardinal who built it with his own savings.

Scarlet Leaf was an ordinary country girl, but her heart wanted a wedding grand as a temple bell.

“Uh… wait, let me go first…” Lingcai wriggled out of Scarlet Leaf’s arms, breath unsteady as a lantern’s flame. The speed of Scarlet Leaf’s mood left her wobbling.

“What’s wrong?” Scarlet Leaf’s eyes were puzzled, clear as spring water.

Lingcai shook her head, then stood before her. Under that gaze, she turned once, showing her petite, loli‑small frame like a doll on a silk turntable. She lowered her head, cheeks flushing peach‑pink.

“Like this… you accept me so easily? No resistance?”

Scarlet Leaf rose and gently lifted Lingcai’s bowed face, palms warm as sunlight. She set her arms on Lingcai’s shoulders, eyes deep and tender.

“Whatever you become, Lingcai is Lingcai. The outside is a shell. I love your soul. Across gender or even life and death, Scarlet Leaf will marry no one but you.”

Oh my god.

Even Xueyu’s skin crawled at that country‑sweet line, goosebumps popping like rice in hot oil. Mushy didn’t usually go that far.

Under that vow, Lingcai teared up, drops shining like pearls. She flung her arms wide and dove back into Scarlet Leaf’s embrace.

“Le—af—!”

“Lin—gcai—!” Scarlet Leaf caught her eagerly, hoisted her tiny frame, and spun in place like a festival dancer.

“Leaf—!”

“Cai—!”

“Lea—f~~!”

“Ca—i~~!”

Heat swelled in the room, honeyed and cloying. Xueyu’s corner felt shadowed and out of tune, like a wet umbrella left in a bright gallery.

…Enough. Seriously.

Xueyu tasted just how unnecessary she was—punished by secondhand sweetness, mouth stuffed with dry dog food and no water.

We strayed from the original plan, but here we are. Can Lingcai really go home smoothly?

As for what comes next, we’ll leave it to the next chapter.