This...!!!

While Melinda Liang worked on my hair, I browsed this familiar-yet-strange world on the salon’s tablet. After checking music, novels, and movies... I was stunned!

If things are like this, I could live an amazing life. Maybe even do *this* and *that*... Mm-hmm!

I quietly weighed my options, made plans, mapped out my future.

Time flowed like a rushing river—relentless and grand.

I’d entrusted my hair to Melinda Liang. She was a pro, after all. As Deputy Fashion Director, she obviously outclassed this amateur. No pointless comments from me—that’d break the unspoken trust between stylist and client!

Still... should I praise her skills? Or question why a Deputy Director handled my cut?

I scrolled through anime rankings on the tablet. Topping the charts was *Transform! Magical Girl on the Move*—the highest-clicked show I could find.

Other top tens included *After the World’s End*, *The Girl Who Parachuted In*, *I’m Just a Shopkeeper of Artifacts*, *Fantasy’s Original Sin*, *This Emperor Refuses to Be a Princess of Fusang*, *Even Her*, *The Gospel of Long Black Hair*, *Myth of Daydreams*, *My Dad’s Mom Is My Wife*, and *Crimson Treasure Hunter*.

All highly rated, each with unique styles. But I’d start with *Transform! Magical Girl on the Move*—the rest could wait.

Each episode ran thirty minutes. I’d expected my haircut to take two episodes max. Yet as Melinda snipped away, I binged five whole episodes—way off my estimate!

I’d planned to finish two episodes, hop out with fresh hair, handle loose ends, and crash into bed.

But after five episodes—nearly half of Season 1, two and a half hours—my hair still wasn’t done.

Glancing in the mirror, I saw Melinda’s focused, enthusiastic expression. I held back my complaints. Why ruin her groove? I was the beneficiary, after all.

...Fine. I’d just keep watching *Transform! Magical Girl on the Move*.

Finally, after Episode 6, my hair was done. What a journey! Nearly three hours wasted—I checked the tablet: 10:30 PM. Time is money. How much had I just burned?

I looked up at the mirror.

*Who... is that?*

The face staring back was stunning. Flawless fair skin. Sharp, sculpted features. A high nose bridge. Deep, captivating eyes. Lips that framed a perfectly balanced face—delicate yet handsome, beautiful yet masculine. It blended every ideal like a divine masterpiece, a golden ratio of allure. Apollo himself would envy it.

Okay, fine—that was just me post-haircut. My inner monologue got carried away. Truth was, I looked like an upgraded version of my old self. Yesterday, I’d found pre-high-school photos at home: a clean-cut guy, decently handsome but buried under neglect and messy hair.

Now, my face still held traces of my past self—no jarring changes. Familiar faces would recognize me. No one would suspect plastic surgery.

I’d grown my hair out for a year anyway. No one had seen my real face closely. No suspicion there.

Melinda Liang stepped back, hand flying to cover her gasp. Her eyes sparkled with awe—as if witnessing unearthed treasure.

"This is incredible! I saw potential in your bone structure, your face shape... thought you were an uncut jade. But you’re not jade—you’re a diamond!"

"You might be my most perfect work yet! Wait here!"

She dashed to the front desk, rummaged in her handbag, and returned with a card.

"Keep this. My contact’s on it. Call anytime... um, Xia Chuan? Could I get your number too?"

Huh?!

*My phone number?!*

*Is she hitting on me?!*

I weighed my options: accept? accept? or... accept? With this face, I must’ve unlocked a passive girl-attracting aura! Fawning admirers would swarm any minute!

But Melinda didn’t seem like a fangirl. Let’s analyze her motives... Nah. Overthinking ages you. Time would reveal the truth.

I smoothly gave her my number. Still... didn’t feel like flirting.

"I’ve saved it! I might call later—don’t ignore me! It’s... a side gig opportunity. You’ll be pleasantly surprised."

Right. Not flirting. Confirmed. She wasn’t some starry-eyed teen. Mature. Calculated. Probably just scouting talent. *Yeah. That’s the logical explanation.*

Hair done. Number shared. Her mysterious vibe lingering. Time to pay and leave.

"Ms. Melinda Liang," I said, "I love the cut. How much do I owe you?"