"Go for it." Feng Yijiu smiled. As someone who loved watching drama unfold, she’d long been ready to enjoy the show. Besides, if Li Hao and Zhou Wen Yao actually got together—one her new bestie, the other her new bro—it honestly didn’t sound half bad.

But judging by Li Hao’s clueless-blockhead act? Winning Wen Yao’s heart would be a long, arduous road indeed. Feng Yijiu spared him one silent second of sympathy, then set the thought aside.

"Any plans for the holiday?" Li Hao asked as afternoon tea wound down.

"Not really," Feng Yijiu mused. "Homework at home, some gaming… maybe a few other things."

"I see." Li Hao nodded thoughtfully. *She’s basically grinding revision all break.* His resolve hardened. Liu Zhenyu had invited him to the arcade tomorrow—but that suddenly felt trivial.

A fire ignited in Li Hao’s chest. *How could gaming compare to the thrill of real-life demon hunting?* He sprang up, striking a cringey, dramatic pose, and thrust a hand toward Feng Yijiu. "Feng Yijiu! Midterms—dare to bet against me again?"

"Sure, why not?" Feng Yijiu shrugged. *Please. I’ve been revising nonstop. Losing to this guy, still deep in his cringey phase? Impossible.* That ridiculous comment he’d just made? Perfect chance to knock him down a peg.

A faint smile touched her lips—so effortlessly lovely she didn’t notice its effect until she looked up. The blockhead was utterly spellbound.

"Hey! Hey!" She waved her hand before his dazed eyes.

Li Hao jolted back. After silently chanting *"Da Wei Tian Long"* three times, he finally met her gaze.

Her oddly familiar smile vanished. Lips pouted slightly, head tilted, big eyes slanting toward him with a hint of playful annoyance.

"Hey! Spacing out on me? Fencing?" Feng Yijiu snapped, refusing to lose composure.

"N-no! Just… remembered something," Li Hao stammered, cheeks burning. *Mortifying—to be caught staring by another guy.*

Feng Yijiu’s eyes twinkled. She softened her voice, draped an arm over his shoulder, fingers curled delicately. "C’mon, we’re practically family! Totally get it—no need to be shy."

Li Hao’s hair stood on end at her exaggeratedly effeminate, "helplessly alluring" act.

♂♂♂♂♂… The male symbol looped endlessly in his mind. He sat bolt upright, rigid as a first-grader.

"Tch." Feng Yijiu dropped the act, shooting him a withering glare.

Li Hao felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, face flushed crimson.

"Weren’t we talking about the bet?" Feng Yijiu sat straight, expression serious. The shift eased his tension—her earlier act had momentarily blurred his sense of gender.

"Right! Bet on grades again!" Li Hao’s voice steadied, fiery enthusiasm cooled to calm focus.

"All nine subjects?"

"All nine."

"Fine." Feng Yijiu shrugged. "Stakes?"

Li Hao froze. He hadn’t considered that.

Recalling his earlier "macho" posturing, Feng Yijiu seized her chance. "Anime convention the weekend after midterms. We go together—but loser cross-dresses for cosplay."

Li Hao shuddered at "cross-dress." But meeting her gaze—three parts disdain, three parts mockery—a defiant spark flared. "Deal! I accept!"

*Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Break the boats, sink the pots—Chu claims Qin’s fortresses. Heaven aids the diligent. Sleep on firewood, taste gall—Yue’s army conquers Wu.* These words were *his*.

*Pfft. Even Sima Yi—the famously cautious strategist—would’ve balked at cross-dressing. But I? I’ve slept on firewood. Broken the boats. This "great demon" Feng Yijiu? One strike.*

He raised his palm upright before her.

Feng Yijiu blinked, then met it—*slap, slap, slap*.

She stayed perfectly calm. *Please. Even without my "transmigrator’s cheat," betting a guy against a girl on cross-dressing? Hmph. You might win the battle. I’ll never lose the war. Mindset over mechanics.*

A lopsided smirk tugged one corner of her mouth—a faint dimple on one side, cool confidence on the other.

"Alright, I’m off." She popped the last fry into her mouth, shoved hands in pockets, and walked out with the serene aloofness of a master with no worthy rivals.

Only outside McDonald’s did she groan inwardly. *Ugh. Why did I get swept up in that blockhead’s hype?*

Li Hao clenched his fist. *This time… I will not lose.*

At home, he froze. His usually quiet mom was cooking—aromas swirling, dishes plated to perfection.

*What’s the occasion?*

"Gou Gou, you’re back!" Dong Shu emerged, smile warm as April sunshine.

Li Hao tilted his head, uneasy. *Is it me… or is Mom acting weird? Wait—could this be… menopause?*