What? You want me to crawl on my knees? And… lick her feet?

This… is way too much!

But this time, I was truly at the edge of the abyss. As she said, this chance was my only lifeline.

What was nearly settled had, thanks to my own blunder, completely enraged her.

For me, this was the absolute last shot. Miss it… and I’d either sleep on the streets tonight or get a “warm welcome” from the gangsters.

Yet kneeling still felt utterly unacceptable—let alone crawling like a lowly little dog as ordered, lifting her silk-stockinged feet, and taking her plump, smooth toes into my mouth…

No way! Absolutely not! Not happening!

“Please… tell me this kneeling thing is just a joke, right?” I asked—my final, desperate plea, heart pounding with hope she’d laugh it off.

But reality never bent to my hopes.

“Do you think I’m the kind of girl who jokes?” she replied, ice-cold.

…Obviously not.

Though… her tone seemed slightly less sharp? Had her anger cooled?

“Xiao Xi, you lowly little dog—hurry up. Time is money. Keep dawdling now, and later you’ll be the one toyed with by sleazy old men.”

A chill shot through me. My mind flashed: homeless, penniless, forced into humiliating women’s outfits, fake-smiling in the arms of middle-aged creeps just to survive…

“So you’d rather wait to be violated by oily uncles? Then don’t kneel. Go back. Let the underworld ‘help’ you earn their money.”

Her voice carried the ruthless finality of a mafia boss discarding a pawn.

“Absolutely not!” I cried, panic sharp in my throat.

“Well, you’re not stupid. You know which bad option is worse,” she said, still aloof. Hearing my protest, she seemed faintly pleased I’d chosen her path—then added, mercilessly: “So after weighing it… which hurts less? Dignity? Or purity?”

Both sounded awful.

But compared to being violated by sleazy men… kneeling didn’t seem so bad.

Still, after a long internal struggle, I couldn’t bring myself to kneel.

“If you don’t kneel and lick my feet, no ten thousand yuan for you. And you’ll follow company orders: wear women’s clothing, shoot the ad.”

Her tone had softened—anger fading, though displeasure lingered.

…I weighed it. No money. Cross-dressing. But compared to kneeling and licking a girl’s feet? Suddenly, the dress felt… manageable.

“So you’d give up the cash and the chance to lick a beauty’s feet… just to keep that last shred of pride?”

Yeah… kneeling really wounds pride.

Wait—hold on! Why would *not* licking a girl’s feet be regrettable?! I’m not a pervert!

I ignored her question, turned my head, avoided her masked eyes—still glinting with menace—and murmured softly, “Where’s the makeup room and photoshoot studio? Just… tell me. I’ll go.”

She didn’t answer. Her gaze turned hazy, curious.

“I’m curious, Xiao Xi. If it were one hundred thousand yuan… would you lick my feet? Become my slave?”

“No! I’m not a pervert!”

“What if it was two million?”

“I’d lick like crazy! Lick till your whole family goes bankrupt!”

“Hmph. Men. In the end, it’s always about my money.”

…Ugh. How I envy that young heiress energy.

“You don’t know how lucky you are! With that wealth and status, you should help people—not indulge twisted whims!” I knew it might anger her, but I was past caring. Three months of steamed buns had me near tears from bitter jealousy.

She rolled her eyes, scoffed. “What a drama queen.”

…She saw right through me.

“Alright, I’ve had my fun. Makeup room’s on the 12th floor—studio’s there too. Outfits are ready. Don’t worry, totally normal: lolita-style dresses, black stockings.”

…Sure, “normal” for a girl. Problem is—I’m a guy!

*Clap, clap, clap!*

Startled from my thoughts, I jumped as Cheng Shun pushed the door open.

“Uncle Cheng, it’s settled. Take him to makeup. Are the outfits ready?”

“Reporting to Young Miss—they’ve been delivered to the studio.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Heart thudding, I followed Manager Cheng out. Glancing back, I caught her unreadable smile—clearly savoring my surrender.

Waaah… What am I supposed to do…