The so-called photography studio was just a square, windowless room flooded with bright lights. Professional gear and office computers lined the walls. Directly opposite the door hung a massive solid-blue backdrop—perfect for chroma keying later.

The moment I stepped inside, a young man with long hair and a beard hurried over. “Manager Cheng, is this the new model? Why so slow? You’re only here now?”

“Alright, Xiao Zhang,” Cheng Shun said calmly. “I’ve brought the model. Her stage name is Xixi-chan. First audition. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

He scrutinized me head to toe, then nodded slightly. “Manager Cheng, this newcomer is impressive. Pure, fresh aura—perfect for the shoot’s theme. I’m sure the client will love the results.”

I kept my head down, playing ostrich, so ashamed I wished I could vanish into a floor crack.

Cheng Shun took a drag of his cigarette and smiled. “Xixi-chan, call him Teacher Zhang. Go on, greet him.”

Greet him?

Even in wig and makeup, my voice was still mine. How could I speak like a girl?

But under his threatening stare, I cleared my throat, raised my pitch slightly, softened my tone: “Hello, Teacher Zhang.”

The words left my mouth—and even I was startled.

Not quite a typical girl’s voice, a hint deeper… yet close enough. Like a young girl with a subtly androgynous tone. At least, not suspicious.

Teacher Zhang smiled politely. “So you’re Xixi-chan. I’m the studio’s full-time photographer. Call me Teacher Zhang. Don’t worry—I’ll guide you patiently through anything.”

Phew. He hadn’t noticed a thing.

But me—a boy—effortlessly mimicking a girl’s voice, my appearance raising zero doubt… thinking about it… kinda sad.

Beside me, Cheng Shun smirked eerily and patted my shoulder. “Xiao Zhang, Xixi-chan’s a high school girl. Sweet sixteen. Very delicate. Be extra polite during the shoot.”

“Hm? A student? Sixteen?” His eyes lit up. He rushed to the rack. “Perfect! The client included a school uniform. Xixi-chan, try it on first! Fitting room’s right there.”

Five or six brand-new women’s outfits hung neatly. He plucked a sailor uniform, then dug from a prop box a sealed pair of white stockings and round-toed leather shoes, handing them over.

No way…

I suddenly regretted everything. Please, just spare me…

Cheng Shun’s voice slithered behind me, laced with threat: “Tsk tsk… Lately, so many new models skip duties. I’ve got breach-of-contract cases to discuss with my lawyer later.”

Ugh…

Refuse? Debt jumps from one million to two…

No choice.

Gritting my teeth, I took the bundle and slipped into the side fitting room.

A small square space—slightly bigger than mall stalls—with a rack, shoe cabinet, stool, and a full-length mirror reflecting every detail of my figure.

I stared at my reflection: a face undeniably pretty, rivaling most girls. A bitter smile tugged my lips. I wanted to yank off my T-shirt and shorts and shove the skirt on—

But I couldn’t! Aaah!

These pristine white stockings only deepened my despair. Their sheen and texture screamed premium brand—not cheap street-vendor stuff.

If some ethereally beautiful girl wore these before me? I’d happily stare. But roles reversed… *I* had to wear them?! Plus a blue-and-white sailor uniform?!

Then, that devilish voice drifted through the door: “Xixi-chan, changed yet?”

I hadn’t even started undressing my boy clothes!

Silence outside—then chatter:

“Xiao Zhang, she’s nervous. Fetch a female staffer to help her change.”

“Yes, Manager, I’ll just—”

“No, Manager Cheng, please!”

A choked cry escaped me.

If another woman entered, my secret was dead. More witnesses = faster exposure. Worse than cross-dressing? The whole world knowing I was cross-dressing.

Cheng Shun’s words were the final ultimatum.

Head bowed like I’d lost something precious, I slowly peeled off the clothes that marked me as a boy.

A deep sigh. I unfolded the delicate sailor uniform… and those white stockings—the kind that’d haunt my psyche forever, worn or not.

“Tick-tock, little Xixi.”

Hopeless, I stared at myself—down to my briefs. Then I spotted it, tucked inside the uniform… a pair of blue-and-white triangle panties…

Almost instantly, the devil’s voice returned: “Oh right—change your panties too. Certain angles demand perfect underwear. Client satisfaction is non-negotiable.”

So you can just trample my male dignity like this?! NOOOO!!

But a lamb led to slaughter has no say.

So… so embarrassing…