It’s all life’s doing…
Xuye Cheng gathered a handful of hair, comb in hand, gently working through the tangles.
Start with the ends…
He repeated the motion softly, his mind calm, yet a faint weariness seeped in.
Once the ends were smooth, he combed the strands back along their natural grain…
Xuye Cheng recited the steps silently. Admittedly, watching the frizzy strands turn sleek under the comb’s glide was oddly soothing.
As he lifted his hand to comb the crown, the teeth snagged at his nape. The sharp tug on his scalp made him feel like his skull was peeling off.
His face twisted in pain.
*Better go lighter.*
He eased his grip. After the crown came the "goat horns"—the side tufts.
With a bit of practice, it wasn’t so troublesome anymore.
He glanced at the mirror. His once-frizzy hair now gleamed, smooth and lustrous.
A surge of pride swelled in Xuye Cheng’s chest.
*Huh. Guess I’ve got a knack for this hair thing~*
He preened for a moment—then froze.
*Wait. What the hell am I proud of? Is this really something to brag about…?*
He sighed inwardly. In the mirror, the girl’s brows were knotted, lips pressed tight in misery.
He smoothed his forehead. His eyes dimmed briefly—then the face in the glass smiled. The fatigue in his heart lifted just a little.
*This face looks better smiling.*
He thought it, then pinched his own cheek. Soft. The texture was undeniably nice.
Just seeing this face lifted his mood.
Maybe this was the only spark in his dull, flavorless life—at least he could become something pleasant to look at. A visual comfort.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. A knock followed. Xuye Cheng stiffened. "Wai—"
The voice that slipped out froze him mid-breath.
*Shit!! Why did I speak?!*
"Huh? Baby Cheng, what’re you up to in there? Sounded like a girl’s voice!"
Panic shot through him. He fumbled for his phone, turned the volume down low, and played a pre-saved audio clip.
As the mask dissolved, his body snapped back to its original form. A sharp ache flared below his waist.
His face paled. He loosened his pants’ drawstring in a hurry.
*Too tight… squished everything when I changed back…*
He took a deep breath, straightened his clothes, and opened the door. Zheng Wenxuan stood there, grinning like a fox.
"Full of energy, huh, Baby Cheng? Locked in here half an hour. Next time, wear headphones. Sounds were leaking out."
Xuye Cheng stared, dumbfounded.
*What does he think I was doing? Relieving myself?*
He almost snapped at Zheng for thinking so low of him—but then realized… that explanation actually fit. What else could that voice mean?
"I’ve got stamina, obviously," Xuye Cheng shot back, mimicking Zheng’s eyebrow waggle.
"That long? What’d you eat?" Zheng sneered, teasing.
"Naturally gifted. You wouldn’t understand." Xuye Cheng returned to his seat and reopened his online course.
Frankly, this stuff annoyed him. To Xuye Cheng, these theories felt useless for real life.
He pulled out his phone, picked a decently priced pair of white sneakers, and checked his cart. Then he remembered—
He hadn’t bought panties.
Swallowing thick shame, he typed into the search bar. Weird results flooded in. He hadn’t realized panties came in so many styles.
Stripes. Lace. Colors. Fabrics…
*What even is "ice silk texture"?*
He sighed. Since getting that mask, his knowledge of the opposite sex had… expanded.
He chose plain white ones—two pairs for rotation.
Wait…
Another problem hit him.
He’d need to wash the girl’s clothes. But how? He couldn’t just hang them to dry in the dorm…
Underwear. All the intimate stuff…
His head throbbed. He hadn’t even started his part-time job yet, and he’d already spent so much.
*Hope the café boss pays well. Need to recoup costs… maybe even save a little.*
His phone rang.
His mother.
Xuye Cheng frowned, answered, and stepped onto the balcony.
"Hey, Mom. What’s up?" He leaned against the railing, gaze drifting to the campus grove below—then snapped away when he spotted a couple holding hands.
"Eat yet?" Her middle-aged voice crackled through.
"Yeah." His tone turned hesitant.
"How much for this month’s allowance?"
Just as expected.
"Twelve hundred." He needed it for his phone loan, Zheng’s birthday gift, and other bits. Cash was tight.
"Why more than last month…" Her sigh carried weary frustration.
"Got some expenses." He kept his voice flat.
"Be thrifty." Another sigh. "Your dad keeps asking where my money goes. Where *can* it go? His few thousand each month—I send you a thousand. Your sister needs allowance, fruit, clothes… it vanishes. Where *can* it go…"
Xuye Cheng listened silently, temples pulsing.
He was already lightening this family’s burden in his own way. He was exhausted. He didn’t need her complaining over pennies.
"Grandpa’s medical bills are piling up too…"
"Mm." He hummed noncommittally.
Truth was, he resented this family. He felt like a tool raised to secure their future—a safety net for their old age.
Of course he’d never abandon them when they aged. But this bond… it felt less like parent and child, more like a transaction.
