Did I hear that right? To demand I kneel the moment we meet? How utterly outrageous!
“No—impossible! I’d be truly grateful if you helped me, Miss. But if you insist on humiliating me like this before offering help… then I… I won’t agree!”
This is the backbone of a true man!
I will never yield, no matter what!
“Oh? Is that so?”
*Snap!*
A bundle wrapped like a crimson brick flew from her office chair. It rolled twice across the floor before I realized—cash! A thick stack of vibrant red bills!
Judging by the thickness… at least ten thousand!
My heart skipped…
Wait, no!
“Now,” the girl said with a devilish smile, “if you obey quietly and follow company arrangements, this can be an advance on your wages.”
“I… I would never stoop for money!”
“But you *would* wear women’s clothing for it.”
“Absolutely not!”
I clung to my stubborn pride. Yes, this crisis threatened my entire future—but cross-dressing for a photoshoot? Never.
“Hmm. So you’d rather become… an ‘entertainer’ at a shady club than wear a dress?”
An “entertainer”… You mean *that* kind of work?
“Huh?! What… what do you mean?”
“Unfortunately,” she said calmly, “I’ve received word: all your debts have been transferred to the city’s largest underworld syndicate.”
…
My eyes widened in disbelief.
“Let me be blunt—I’m pulling you from the abyss. Refuse, and in days, it won’t be debt collectors at your door. It’ll be men in black from an underground syndicate. Do you understand?”
“How… how is this possible…”
As if sensing my confusion, she added lightly, “Oh, and I know their ‘repayment process.’ Toss you into a gray-zone club to earn black money for years… then, once you’re past your prime? Let’s just say organ sales might come up.”
“This…” At sixteen, barely halfway through my first high school semester, I’d never faced a crisis this dire. Panic tightened my chest.
She rocked her chair leisurely, shot me a sideways glance, and spoke in a deceptively casual tone:
“So—the choice is yours. Become a money-making machine for middle-aged men… or listen to me. Pick up that cash. Go next door. Put on a dress. Be a model—at *least* one with a shred of dignity.”
…
Was this even a choice?
Just as I feared. Coming here left me with none.
That stack of red bills on the floor had become a tempting demon.
Pick it up? I’d fall under this enigmatic girl’s control… forced into things I despised.
Leave it? I already knew the outcome: dragged off by thugs… forced to be *that* kind of machine for life.
“Decided yet?”
“Mm…” I took a heavy step forward, stopping before the scattered bills.
No escape. This was inevitable.
For my own sake… I had to pick it up.
Just as I moved—she spun her chair around.
Huh?! The moment I saw her face, I froze solid, as if struck by Medusa’s gaze.
Breathtaking.
Beneath delicate features lay mountain-snow purity. Flawless porcelain skin, silken hair, a graceful yet striking figure—like a celestial being descended to earth.
An unattainable bloom on a lonely peak: cold, proud, mesmerizing.
Words failed me. Utterly captivated.
Yet instead of awe, a strange familiarity washed over me. Not just her voice this time—her face felt hauntingly familiar.
And to my surprise, she watched me with a flicker of genuine anticipation.
After a brief silence, she spoke first. Her usual icy arrogance had softened.
“Lin Xiaoxi,” she asked, voice gentle yet expectant, “do you know who I am?”
