Zheng Wenxuan was puzzled.

Just now, through the door crack, he’d glimpsed Xuye Cheng’s eyes—they truly looked different from before.

Though it was just a flash, Zheng Wenxuan still sensed something off.

"Why aren’t you going yet?" Xuye Cheng called from inside.

"The infirmary’s closed today. I’ll take my ID and buy it outside for you," Zheng Wenxuan replied.

"Hurry up!" Xuye Cheng urged.

"I’ll be back," Zheng Wenxuan said, grabbing his ID and stepping out of the dorm.

Walking down the hall, that fleeting image of eyes lingered in his mind.

Crap—he must’ve been single too long, seeing Xuye Cheng as handsome now.

He needed a girlfriend fast, or he’d start doubting his sexuality.

Zheng Wenxuan quickened his pace.

Xuye Cheng tapped the bathroom door softly. "Xuan, you still there?"

He waited a moment, confirmed silence outside, then carefully opened the door. The dorm was empty. Xuye Cheng let out a sigh of relief and slipped out.

Judging by Zheng Wenxuan’s reaction, he probably hadn’t noticed anything, right?

Xuye Cheng felt a twinge of guilt.

He’d gotten this incredible face-changing artifact but had no clue how to use it. Why no manual? It had just mysteriously landed in his hands.

What now…

Xuye Cheng sighed, recalling the mask falling off earlier.

Nothing special had happened.

After much thought, he came up empty. Instead, the pain in his ankle flared up.

He treated his wound simply and kept pondering.

"Does it fall off automatically after time?" Xuye Cheng muttered. But he hadn’t worn it long earlier. Logically, it should’ve dropped by now.

He rubbed his temples. The smooth skin under his fingertips stirred complex feelings.

Scanning the room helplessly, he searched for anything useful.

His eyes landed on scattered tape on the floor—left from Zheng Wenxuan’s package.

Maybe… cut a slit with a knife?

Xuye Cheng opened a drawer, pulled out a utility knife. He stared at it, then pinched his cheek. The soft texture shifted his mood subtly.

He extended the blade, slowly bringing it near his face—then stopped just short.

He was actually scared of pain…

Xuye Cheng sighed helplessly and gave up.

Just then, his phone rang.

Xuye Cheng froze. Seeing an unknown number, he set down the knife and answered.

"Hello, is this Mr. Xuye Cheng?" a man’s voice asked.

As the words ended, a cool sensation swept over Xuye Cheng’s face. The mask peeled off and landed with a soft thud.

Xuye Cheng stood stunned.

It fell off?

He bent to pick up the mask.

"Hello? You there?" the man’s voice grew puzzled.

"Ah, yes—it’s me," Xuye Cheng replied quickly. "What is it?"

"Your package is at the pickup station."

"Oh, okay. Thanks," Xuye Cheng said.

After hanging up, he stared at the mask, lost in thought again.

The mask fell off because…

Someone called his full name?

Xuye Cheng frowned.

Let’s test it.

He put the mask back on and called Zheng Wenxuan.

"Hey, what’s up? Dying already?" Zheng Wenxuan’s voice crackled with background noise.

Xuye Cheng took a deep breath. "No, Xuan—call my full name."

"Huh? Are you crazy?" Zheng Wenxuan sounded baffled.

"Less talk, just do it," Xuye Cheng snapped impatiently.

"Xuye Cheng…" Zheng Wenxuan sighed with resignation.

Xuye Cheng’s face scrunched up.

Why did it sound so gay…

But the next second, the mask fell off. Xuye Cheng’s face lit up with joy.

"So what was that about?" Zheng Wenxuan asked, exasperated.

"Nothing. Back yet?" Xuye Cheng asked.

"On my way," Zheng Wenxuan replied.

"Good."

Xuye Cheng sat down, feeling relieved.

He’d figured out how to use this thing.

But were there special tricks?

A sharp pain shot through his ankle.

Xuye Cheng inhaled sharply, glancing at his wound. The ache grew sharper.

He gazed at the mask in his hand, his expression turning helpless.

It only changed his looks. His voice, build, hairstyle—all unchanged…

To make money with this, he’d have to go online…

Create a cross-dressing persona and monetize views? But in a dorm, he couldn’t pull off much.

Xuye Cheng sighed again.

This thing seemed pretty useless for now.

Suddenly, the dorm door swung open. Xuye Cheng jumped, shoving the mask into his pocket.

Zheng Wenxuan entered with a small bag and handed it over.

"Here—bought ointment. Thirty bucks," he said, tidying his desk.

"Thanks," Xuye Cheng said, transferring the money via phone.

"Oh, on my way out, police cordoned off a street section," Zheng Wenxuan added. "Heard a gas canister exploded in an apartment upstairs."

Xuye Cheng took the ointment, bending to treat his wound. He paused. "The intersection near Jiayuan Convenience Store?"

"Yeah, I think…" Zheng Wenxuan replied. "Homeowner had severe burns, but survived—at least he didn’t die."

Could this mask be… the homeowner’s? Xuye Cheng thought, then asked, "Who’s the homeowner?"

"Dunno. Just saw it in a group chat."

"I see," Xuye Cheng murmured thoughtfully.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," Xuye Cheng said, standing up. "I’m grabbing breakfast. Starving."

He pushed the door open.

"Wait!"

Xuye Cheng turned back, puzzled. "What?"