I, Luo Xiaoyao—male? Wait, probably female—am about to do something super important today.

Pressured by reality, pushed by friends, and driven by my own will, I decided to ask Qingli how to act like a proper girl.

Just for daily stuff, of course.

Right now, Qingli pulled out a huge box filled with bottles and jars. She rummaged through it, muttering firmly:

"Xiao Yao’s still young. No makeup needed. But it’s autumn now, so moisturizer is a must. Hmm… adult formula or… baby cream?"

Don’t treat me like a thirteen-year-old kid!

After studying my face for ages, Qingli finally picked a baby cream tub with cartoon prints. She dipped her finger and dabbed dots on my forehead, cheeks, and nose.

"Come on, our great Yao Race’s smartest species, symbol of wisdom—you can rub it in yourself, right?"

Pfft. It’s just baby cream. I’ve been doing this since elementary school! I slapped my hands on my face and scrubbed hard.

Qingli stopped me, exasperated: "Are you washing your face or scrubbing bath grime? Gently!"

She took over, rubbing slowly with her palms. So soft, so comfy, a little ticklish.

But this takes forever! Just for a face rub? Ugh, girls are such a hassle.

Next up: lip balm. Qingli explained:

"Lips are the most delicate part of your face. Sometimes you won’t feel the cold, but your lips crack first. And if they freeze-split? Permanent wrinkles might form."

Her scary words made my spine chill. I grabbed the balm and jammed it onto my lips.

"Whoa, slow down! Are you applying lip balm or unclogging a toilet?"

Yep, she scolded my rough move again. She took the balm and smoothed it evenly over my lips.

Sweet, fruity scent. The tube was pale orange—definitely orange-flavored.

Somehow, I felt like I was using kid stuff. Real girl cosmetics I’ve seen have elegant, clear packaging. But Qingli’s tube? Bright orange with playful cartoon letters and tiny red flowers.

I guess I really am being treated like a little girl.

"Now, hair."

Her soft hands gathered my cherry-blossom pink hair into a bundle, sweeping it from my right ear to my front. "Brushing hair? First, tie it up. Then pull it forward. Brush the ends—otherwise, you can’t reach the back."

Ohhh! No wonder I struggled this morning. Wrong method. Gotta pull the hair forward.

"Next," Qingli combed my hair and let it fall back. "Trim hair regularly. Cut the ends. They’re the oldest parts—losing shine, splitting, getting damaged. Snip them off. Let fresh hair grow down to replace them."

She described hair care vividly, with fairy-tale charm. Fun to hear. But her tone…

Sounded exactly like a kindergarten teacher lecturing toddlers.

Anyway, the training stayed peaceful until later. Total chaos then. Sitting posture? Fine, seiza is bearable. But duck-sitting or kneeling? Nope. Not human poses.

Walking posture? Control leg width, step length, lift speed, landing speed… Ugh. I just wanna be a normal girl, not some mansion heiress.

Eating manners…

"Qingli, please! Enjoying food is my last life joy. Don’t kill it. What’s left to live for?"

"Well… okay."

Under my "die-or-comply" threat, Qingli scrapped strict rules. I sighed: "Cry, throw a tantrum, threaten suicide"—that’s the real girl power move.

Maybe I accidentally unlocked the secret to being a normal girl?

After solving daily grooming, I zoned out. Qingli got distracted too. She started teaching girl stuff but shifted to her obsession: bride training.

"Xiao Yao, as a girl, outfit coordination matters."

"Mm-hmm. I’ll learn from that game ‘Frosty World Tour’ later. Skip it today."

"Xiao Yao, as a girl, cooking skills matter."

"Mm-hmm. I’ll watch food anime later. Skip it today."

"Xiao Yao, as a girl—"

"Mm-hmm. I’ll do XXX later. Skip it today."

We both realized we were just picking fights. Qingli snapped first, grabbing my chubby cheeks and yanking sideways.

"Owwww!"

I yelped, then lunged at her. Qingli leaned back to dodge. I pressed on. Our bodies tilted wildly—

*Thud!*

*Yelp!*

First sound: heavy crash. Second: my cry. Hitting the floor wasn’t painful. Something soft cushioned my forehead—oh. I hadn’t landed on the ground. I’d landed on Qingli, who’d hit the ground first.

"Sorry, Qingli! You okay?"

She took the fall and my full weight but didn’t whimper. So tough. I lifted my head apologetically—then froze. Qingli’s face was flushed crimson, tears welling in her eyes. My gaze drifted lower…

Calm down, Luo Xiaoyao. Breathe. Assess the situation.

Everyone knows: two sticks leaning together. Even same length, when they topple, the top one lands on the bottom one’s upper half. Try it with chopsticks at home.

Same for people. Qingli’s taller, but not by much. When we fell toward her, I natu- natu- naturally… smashed my head into her chest.

"How’s it feel?"

Comfy? Yeah. But I couldn’t say that. Seeing her flustered, blushing face, I panicked and blurted:

"Okay. But kinda small. Mine’s bigger."

"…"

*Slap!*

……………………

I, Luo Xiaoyao, am sixteen. Or maybe thirteen. Who knows, right?

Today, I did something life-changing: "How to Be a Good Girl" training.

Results? Decent. Learned daily tricks. Also, I might’ve unlocked two girl-exclusive talents.

First: "Cry, throw a tantrum, threaten suicide." Use it to get your way. Works like magic.

Second: "Confidence boost." Girl-confidence. Compare your assets to others’. Win big. Take control easily.

Funny thing? I tested both today on my trainer—Qingli. Effects? Extremely effective.

But believe me. Seriously, believe me. Today’s outcome? Not what I wanted.

Not at all. My sweet orange lip balm can vouch for me.