2017. An era where cross-dressing boys were everywhere. Wearing girls' clothes had long stopped being shocking—it was now a hot topic, even celebrated. Unlike before, it wasn’t something to hide.

Prejudice still lingered, but it had faded greatly.

Yue Feather lived decades apart from the story he wrote. He set it so far back because he believed that time felt purer.

Truth was, it was just his mind polishing old memories.

Recollections always seemed beautiful. But back then? That memory hadn’t been beautiful at all.

A shut-in who avoided going out whenever possible, Yue Feather’s skin wasn’t as dark as his protagonist’s. Not pale, just… ordinary.

Shut-ins came in two types: painfully thin or heavily built. Average builds barely existed in their world.

Yue Feather belonged to the thin category. Perfect, really, for what he planned.

He sat before his computer, searching makeup tutorials online. His Taobao cart held one carefully chosen dress—tailored to his frame.

No hallucination of Silver Bell hovered nearby. He was certain his mind was clear. He knew exactly what he was doing.

No doubts. He wanted to *play* a girl. Yes—*play*, not *become*.

And the girl he’d play would be Silver Bell.

Right…

If Silver Bell was imaginary… nonexistent… untouchable…

Why not *become* her himself?

Then she’d step into reality. Then he could truly hold her hand, hug her body.

Yue Feather was sure he wasn’t crazy. This felt rational.

In this cross-dressing era, tutorials were everywhere—overwhelmingly plentiful. Hard to choose just one.

He’d started because Silver Bell hadn’t appeared in days.

Three days, maybe.

Others might shrug it off. For Yue Feather, it was agony.

*Why won’t she show up?*

*Even when my mind feels hazy…*

*Does forcing that haze not work?*

*Even shaking a real bell brings no sound… no her.*

*Has she vanished completely?*

Yue Feather grew haggard. Her absence drained him.

Where had she gone? Would she ever return?

Like losing his anchor, he lost all drive.

Cross-dressing was just another attempt to bring Silver Bell back.

A week slipped by.

Scorching summer arrived. School broke for vacation.

Yue Feather dove deep into his studies.

When someone focused completely—undistracted by the outside world—their efficiency soared.

Yue Feather’s IQ was normal. But single-minded dedication sharpened his instincts.

Self-taught from online guides, he progressed shockingly fast.

Another month blurred past. He barely ate or slept. Literally.

Meal money vanished into makeup supplies. Practice consumed products like water. His savings dwindled. He cut costs where he could: food.

Now he ate once a day—if lucky. Sometimes, one meal stretched over two days. His stomach growled, ignored.

This path risked anorexia. But immersed in his world, Yue Feather never considered it.

Why could he stay immersed? Because after starting makeup lessons, Silver Bell reappeared.

In reality, he painted his own face. In his mind, he painted *hers*.

He chatted with Silver Bell. Joked with her. Slept beside her. Learned and grew with her.

It felt utterly real.

No—for him, it *was* real.

A month flew by. He’d mastered basic makeup.

Exhausted and starving, he collapsed onto his bed.

Even his dreams held Silver Bell.

Skipped meals carved him thinner. From 120 pounds down to 100. Not skeletal, but fragile.

Perfect for girls’ clothes. Female frames were naturally smaller anyway.

Dawn broke. Yue Feather woke.

Hunger forced him up—he’d rather have stayed asleep.

His stomach churned. He managed only an apple.

Not anorexia, perhaps. Just a shrunken stomach from irregular eating.

"Silver Bell?" He glanced at his empty bed. No trace of her.

They’d fallen asleep together last night.

Gone again.

He didn’t know how to make her stay.

But now he’d try this: if he became a girl, would Silver Bell remain by his side forever?

After months of preparation, it was time.

He showered meticulously. Scrubbed every inch of skin cleaner than ever before.

His body glowed pink. A month indoors had bleached his skin—pale, almost sickly.

Softer now, but still not truly feminine. Enough for Yue Feather.

Depilatory cream erased unwanted hair. Stubborn strands yielded to tweezers. Hours vanished.

Then came makeup. Two more hours.

Finally, the dress. The wig.

Up close, masculine traits remained—broad shoulders, narrow hips.

But Yue Feather was satisfied.

His mind auto-edited the reflection. The mirror showed Silver Bell in a new dress. He beamed with pride.

The skirt’s swish. The stockings’ whisper. So real. He felt like the happiest person alive.

He’d succeeded. Silver Bell would never leave him again.

But the person he played wasn’t Yue Feather anymore. It was Silver Bell.

Beside him, Yue Feather’s phantom appeared.

Their eyes met.

The boy playing Silver Bell… let’s call her Silver Bell now.

She hugged Yue Feather, nuzzling like a kitten.

She’d always wanted a girl to do this for her. Since no one ever had, she made it happen herself.

"I love you most, Yue Feather."

"Eh… eh?" The phantom Yue Feather flushed, flustered. She found it adorable. Leaning close, she enunciated slowly: "I. Love. You."

The illusory Yue Feather scratched his head, voice barely a whisper: "I… I love you too…"

"Mmm~ Love you!" Silver Bell pulled him close. Their lips met. Tongues tangled. Minty freshness filled the air. The sensation? Like cool, soft jelly—impossible not to crave more.

*Knock knock knock.*

The door shattered her world.

But she didn’t retreat. Hand in hand with Yue Feather’s phantom, she opened it.

"Who is it?" Her voice sounded sweet to her own ears. To others? Uncanny.

"Huh? Who’re you?" Ji Fan squinted from the doorway, failing to recognize his friend.

"I’m Silver Bell!"

"Silver Bell? What kinda name’s that?" Ji Fan finally placed the voice. He pressed a palm to Yue Feather’s forehead. "You sick, man? Fever?"

"No."

"Then why’s a dude wearing a dress? Oh! Finally going full cross-dresser? Not bad. Actually… kinda cute."

"…" Silver Bell’s smile tightened. Ji Fan’s words ripped her from the dream.

She snapped back to being Yue Feather.

Shame flooded him. Face burning, he coughed sharply. "What do you want?"

"Came to hang. Bored alone." Ji Fan peered past him. "Hiding something sketchy in there?"

"…"

"Relax! Cross-dressing’s no crime." Ji Fan grinned. "Hey—next comic con, you *gotta* come with me in that outfit. Bet you’d slay!"

"Give it a rest," Yue Feather muttered, slightly annoyed—Ji Fan had just shattered his daydream.

"Oh wow, you still eat jelly? How old are you? Hmm, let me try one... Mint-flavored? Not bad..."

"What do you even want?"

"Nothing much. Just here to hang out."

"There’s nothing fun here," Yue Feather replied, his tone turning icy.

"Heh heh, upset? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, okay?"

"... " Yue Feather sighed helplessly. He was truly irritated, but facing his best friend, anger just wouldn’t stick. "I’m going to change my clothes."

"Huh? No need! It’s kinda fresh—let me stare a bit longer. Don’t be shy."

"Go away..."