The boy closed the door and left. Once again, the spacious Student Council president’s office held only me and the demon girl.

“Xiaoxi, you’re quite the charmer,” she teased. “I’m honestly curious how your classmates would react to you cross-dressing.”

Predictably playful—pure demon girl essence.

“Is this enough? Please… let me change and go home,” I pleaded softly.

“Go home? To what home? I still have a task for you.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“My little sister’s entering an elementary math competition soon. I checked your records—your math scores have always been stellar. You even won second prize in a city-level contest back in middle school, right?”

“Yes…”

It *was* something to be proud of… yet hearing it from *her* sent a chill down my spine.

“So today, you’ll come to my house and tutor her. Do well, and the reward won’t disappoint.”

Tutor an elementary student?

As a high schooler, it shouldn’t be hard—but a bad feeling clung to me. Especially with Senior Xiao Qingqing’s smiling face. Was this another twisted “training” session? Tied up, forced to answer “What’s 1000 minus 7?” on infinite loop?!?!

“Hey… you’ve got a weird, silly grin,” she noted.

“I—I don’t!”

“Let’s go. The butler’s car should be at the gate any minute.”

As Xiao Qingqing turned to leave, I hurriedly called out, “Wait! This… this outfit…”

“Problem?” She arched a brow, voice turning icy. “Forgot to mention—my house rule: no man steps inside except the butler.”

Huh? What kind of rule is *that*?

“So you’ll tutor my sister *as my junior*. Understood?”

Understood? Yeah, right!

“Why are you deliberately making this so hard for me…”

“Oh? What’s wrong? Does little Xiaoxi-dog have complaints?” she purred.

“But why cross-dress?! What if your parents see—”

“Relax. Only my sister and the elderly butler live there.”

I still didn’t want to go. Wearing this girls’ uniform to meet strangers? Humiliating!

But Xiao Qingqing never gave me room to argue. One foot already past the door, her voice cut cold: “Follow me obediently… or those photos go public.”

I…

*Sigh.* What choice did I have? I trailed after her downstairs—girls’ uniform, wig, makeup, all intact.

By the Student Council building’s exit stood a side mirror. I glanced.

Silky black hair. A delicate oval face no bigger than a palm. Crisp uniform hugging a slender waist. Long legs beneath the skirt, sheathed in pure white thigh-high socks.

A sweet, innocent high school girl—that was my reflection.

I had to admit: wig and makeup worked wonders, erasing every trace of masculinity. Walking like this on the street? Heads would turn. Yet the chance of exposure felt strangely low.

After all… who’d suspect a delicate schoolgirl in uniform hid a certain “beast” beneath her skirt?

But I was still *on campus*. Ten minutes from here to the gate.

I took a deep breath, matching Xiao Qingqing’s pace.

*I won’t be exposed… Qian Sheng’s my classmate—he didn’t recognize me. Others won’t either.*

Thankfully, I’d always stayed low-key: rarely left class, few friends. Many saw me; few remembered.

…Until I noticed it.

Why were those girls staring? I didn’t know them—must be from other classes.

*Did they see through me?*

Fear attracts fear. The more I thought it, the sharper their gazes felt—whispering, pointing.

Ex… exposed?!

My heart hammered. If someone suddenly yelled, *“Look! A cross-dressing guy!”*—a crowd would swarm in seconds.

*No! Gotta get out!*

I ducked my head, quickened my steps—but they followed, perfectly in sync.

Too obvious. They were onto me.

Then the tall one sped up, stepping beside me.

My face went pale. *Any second now—“Why’s a boy in a girls’ uniform?!”*

What do I do?!

Xiao Qingqing lingered exactly three meters behind, watching with quiet amusement.

*You’re doing this on purpose… hoping I embarrass myself?*

Panicked, I braced to beg her silence—

“You’re Xixi-chan, right?” the tall girl asked, eyes bright with excitement.

Huh?

No one ever called me “Xixi.” Just “Xiaoxi” or Lin Xiaoxi.

*Xixi-chan* was the stage name Senior Xiao Qingqing gave me yesterday…

Before I could speak, she thrust her phone forward—a Bilibili video playing. “This is you! Singing a duet with Wang Yi?! You shone so bright—I’m so jealous!”

I froze, cheeks burning.

Other girls swarmed like they’d spotted a panda at the zoo, chattering:

“Wow, the overnight viral star!”

“She *is* from our school! Comments weren’t lying!”

“But she’s in first-year uniform… why’ve we never seen her?”

“Right? A girl this pretty shouldn’t be invisible!”

*Wait—why the suspicion again?!*

I’d heard girls notice *everything*. One tiny detail, and—

“Um, Xixi-chan… which class are you in?”

*There it is.* The trap question.

Saying “Class 3” was impossible—no “Xixi” existed there. Lie about another class? Exposure was inevitable.

I opened my mouth…

Silence.