“Mic check, mic check, one two three four, two two three four~!” Without thinking, Shu Yuxin blurted the words out. She reached up and touched her neck. The absence of an Adam’s apple felt slightly off—but that wasn’t what weighed on her mind.
Her new voice? Undeniably goddess-tier. Even Shu Yuxin, no vocal connoisseur, found herself captivated by her own tone. She swore it wasn’t vanity—just pure appreciation.
All in all, this body was flawless. For the first time, she wondered how her family’s genes could be this good. Too bad they now showed up in *her*. She’d daydreamed more than once: *What if the girl in the mirror were my little sister?* Easy on the eyes, someone to kiss, hug, lift up high… But being *that* girl herself? Not so sweet. Nearly twenty years as a guy—suddenly a girl? No one adapts overnight.
And until ten days ago, she’d still been a virgin. Never even held a girl’s hand.
Her parents, though? Overjoyed. Thrilled beyond measure. As Dad put it: “Our son’s alive, and we gained a beautiful daughter too. How could we *not* be happy? Used to worry about him marrying—now? Easy. Just wait for our girl to find a good guy.”
So after discharge, they’d even borrowed from relatives to buy her a closet full of stylish clothes—half of them pretty dresses. Her old clothes? Donated. That’s why she hadn’t stepped outside in days.
Sighing, Shu Yuxin flopped onto the bed, yanked the blanket up, and decided to sleep some more.
Outside her room, lunch prep continued.
“Honey, Yuxin still not up?” Dad glanced toward the bedroom while chopping potatoes.
Mom stir-fried with practiced ease. “That kid’s been lazing in bed daily. I can’t drag her out, can I?”
“…Should’ve checked that body first,” Dad muttered, slicing another potato.
Mom snorted. “Says the one who was over the moon back then.”
“I was just… happy our kid’s healthy!” Dad flushed but held firm. “Ahem. Still, should’ve asked *her*.”
Mom paused. “You’re awfully quick to say ‘Yuxin’ now.”
“Else what? Call her Yumo? Household registration’s changed. *You* adapt too.”
The name change came fast. When Shu Yumo became Shu Yuxin, the institute director had anticipated the hassle and promised help. Lucky—the state-backed institute got approvals swiftly. Police even visited home to verify identity, all with warm professionalism.
The couple simply felt “Shu Yumo” didn’t suit a girl. After deliberation, they chose “Shu Yuxin”—no deep meaning, just smooth to say, pleasant to hear.
The institute also handled enrollment: records updated, a fresh university acceptance letter issued. Generous compensation. Life seemed untouched—skip senior year, then university, career, love, family… Only her identity had shifted slightly.
Parents were satisfied. But Shu Yuxin?
That’d show soon.
Tomorrow: university registration day.
*Ding-dong! Ding-dong!*
The doorbell cut through the kitchen. They exchanged glances. Mom nudged Dad. “Old man, spacing out? Go open it.”
Dad wiped his hands and headed to the entrance. “Coming!”
A young man stood there.
Jiang Zixuan. Nearly twenty. 180 cm. Lean, athletic—clearly trained regularly. Handsome face straight out of a BL manga, neat short hair adding crisp charm. Just standing there, he’d turn heads.
He’d met Shu Yuxin in eighth grade. Same middle school, same high school class by chance. Similar personalities, shared interests—four years forged an unshakable bond. Only bitter note? His dating luck: while she’d never held a girl’s hand, he’d already lost his virginity.
But girls wouldn’t break brotherhood. Time might—but not in a year. When Shu Yuxin left school with terminal illness, Jiang tracked his friend closely, skipped class to visit, urged him to hold hope. Still aced entrance exams for a top university.
Hearing his best friend survived surgery and was home? Jiang dropped everything and rushed over.
Naturally, the parents adored such a sunny, upright friend. Dad beamed. “Zixuan! Why no heads-up?”
“Uncle,” Jiang greeted politely, eyes drifting to the bedroom door. “I heard… Shu Yumo’s illness is cured?”
“Haha, all better! *She’s* been back days,” Dad laughed, waving him in. “Bedroom’s open. Go on.”
“Thanks!” Jiang smiled and hurried off.
Dad watched him vanish inside—a flicker in his eyes.
Back in the kitchen, Mom called: “Zixuan?”
“Yep. Looks freshly arrived.” Dad sighed fondly. “Kid’s lucky to have him. Set an extra bowl.”
“Mm.” Mom shot him a look. “Yuxin’s a *girl* now. Really fine letting him in?”
Dad met her gaze, smiling faintly. “Honey… don’t you think Zixuan’s a good match? Family’s better off too.”
“…Selling our daughter already?” Mom huffed. But didn’t object.
