The dim, hazy lights cast a soft glow on skin, wrapping each patron in an indistinct aura of sensuality—except for one woman.

Tucked into a shadowed corner booth, a stunning long-haired woman seemed utterly out of place. Draped in a black coat that hugged her slender neck, her cool porcelain skin glowed under the low light. Her natural black hair fell loosely over her shoulders and bent elbow, slightly curled at the ends like velvet tufts. It brushed against nearby women, leaving a faint, teasing itch in their hearts.

Her beauty was impossible to ignore. Even in the darkest corner, even without effort, she bloomed like a perfect rose, stealing every gaze. The entire bar buzzed with curiosity about this newcomer.

Jianglai drank alone, her eyes fixed on her glass. Her thoughts churned with turmoil only the burning liquor could numb. She’d faced the most absurd crisis imaginable—one misstep, and her entire life would shatter.

Unaware she’d become the bar’s focal point, Jianglai ignored the lingering stares. To others, she looked like a heartbroken soul drowning sorrows. She didn’t care. Her mind was locked on one thing: how to face her daughter. How to make her understand the impossible truth.

If it hadn’t happened to her, she’d never believe it. This woman—flawless, radiant as a rose—had, just days ago, been a respected executive feared by subordinates. A father her daughter relied on.

She’d only come here because her daughter was home for winter break. No drinking at home. This place was expensive, and those probing stares made her skin crawl. She’d chosen it solely because every patron was female. The rigidly conventional Jianglai didn’t realize it was a lesbian bar. Now, she was walking straight into the lion’s den.

Old-fashioned morals made her despise bars. She’d forbidden her daughter from ever entering such "disreputable" places. Yet here she sat, breaking her own rule.

When her daughter’s return loomed, Jianglai’s first instinct was escape. Work stress and family pressure had crushed her. She just needed to numb the pain. She couldn’t let her daughter see her like this—her fatherly authority would vanish forever.

Ever since her transformation, her perfect life had crumbled to dust.

She’d taken five days off work. With weekends, she had seven days of hiding. But Monday was D-day. More leave would trigger a call from the CEO. Lost wages were nothing compared to losing her job—the only thing keeping her family afloat. Where would she go then?

How could she face the world? If she revealed her true identity after becoming a woman, her fifteen-year career would evaporate. Her old life would be erased. But if she confessed the full truth—a healthy man transformed overnight into a woman—she feared being dragged off for dissection by some mad lab.

As she aged, Jianglai craved routine. Change terrified her. Faced with this impossible choice, she chose oblivion.

*Just get drunk. Stop thinking.*

She glared at the high-proof vodka before her. No glass. She lifted the bottle to gulp it straight down.

A hand suddenly blocked her view. Slender fingers, sharp knuckles, pressed the bottle back down.

Jianglai blinked up, dazed by alcohol. Her eyes swam. She reached clumsily for the bottle—and missed. Only a firm grip on her arm kept her from tumbling off the stool.

"Drinking alone is no fun~"

The woman’s voice stretched like warm taffy. She leaned closer, her whisper soft as cotton candy. Her gaze dropped instinctively to Jianglai’s hand on her arm—long fingers, elegant bones, nails faintly pink like pearl. *Surprising. She’s the submissive one.*

She’d watched Jianglai all night: that shadowed gaze heavy with sorrow and intoxication. She’d braced for resistance. But this? This was easier than expected. Her voice dripped with champagne-bubble sweetness, spilling over with promise.

"Let me buy you a drink?"

Maybe the dim light blurred reality. Maybe the vodka fogged her mind. Jianglai’s lashes fluttered as she studied the woman. *She’s female…*

Jianglai trusted women implicitly. Her world revolved around three: her late wife, her beloved daughter, and her sister-in-law—the one she’d failed most.

This bar *was* odd. No male patrons. Not even male bartenders. But that was fine. Safer. She could finally breathe.

Crossing that invisible line, Jianglai nodded—as if bewitched.

She didn’t know this single nod was her first step into the abyss. Her first betrayal of her wife.