Neither of them said a word.

The girl only then noticed the two figures at the door. She let out a startled cry, hurriedly swung her legs off the desk, and pressed down the hem of her T-shirt.

The pair at the doorway moved in perfect sync—turning their heads, stepping back, and closing the door.

Outside, Jiang Zixuan and Shu Yuxin exchanged a one-second glance. He broke the silence: “Why’d you come out?”

“Huh… yeah, why *did* I come out?” Shu Yuxin muttered under her breath.

She could technically stare at another girl’s naked body openly now—but that wasn’t the point.

After a brief pause, Shu Yuxin reopened the door and stepped inside, luggage in tow.

The dorm girl had abandoned her game and was frantically pulling on a pair of pants.

“Um… sorry! We didn’t know you were in here,” Shu Yuxin apologized softly from the doorway.

The girl finally got her pants on, hopped twice to adjust them, and grinned broadly. “Ah, no worries! My bad—I knew someone else was coming… Hehe, it’s just crazy hot today.”

Shu Yuxin blinked, then tugged slightly at her cropped vest.

“Wait—is that your boyfriend outside? Tell him to come in, I don’t mind!” The girl waved dismissively and swiveled back to her chair.

Shu Yuxin nodded, opened the door. “Zixuan, come in.”

Jiang Zixuan, weighed down by the hallway full of staring girls, felt instant relief. He practically fled into the dorm.

Shu Yuxin had brought her own bedsheets. After Jiang Zixuan helped make the bed, he took her to West District Plaza. They bought a lightweight summer quilt—and on impulse, a light pink all-in-one mosquito net and bed curtain with a distinctly girly vibe. He paid before she could react; returning it was no longer an option.

Setting up the bed took little time. Jiang Zixuan almost offered to organize her clothes too—then remembered she was a girl now—and quietly dropped the idea. “Call me if anything comes up,” he said before leaving.

Shu Yuxin turned to her desk. The previous occupant had clearly been a fangirl: the interior was plastered with faded posters of Korean oppas. Thankfully, they peeled off easily. After half an hour, the desk was clean. She sighed in resignation at the crumpled-paper mountain by her feet. “Um… is there a broom?”

“Broom? Balcony.” The other girl had switched to watching short videos, letting out occasional muffled giggles.

Shu Yuxin fetched the broom and began sweeping her corner.

“Hey, beauty—what’s your name?” a voice chimed beside her.

Shu Yuxin paused. “Shu Yuxin. And you?”

“Peng Xiaoxiao. Call me Xiaoxiao!” Peng swiveled her chair with a smile. “So… that handsome guy earlier? Your boyfriend?”

“No. Just a friend.”

“A *friend*? A regular friend does all that?”

“We’re close.”

“Hehe, I get it,” Peng Xiaoxiao said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “He’s chasing you, right? Or… backup plan?”

Shu Yuxin shot her a puzzled look. “Seriously. Just friends.”

“Eh——" Peng drawled the syllable.

Not knowing how to explain, Shu Yuxin bent back to sweeping.

She couldn’t exactly say, *I used to be a guy*.

Peng Xiaoxiao took the silence as aloofness. “Alright, alright. You haven’t checked in yet, right? After tidying up, head to West District Library entrance—grab your military training uniforms. We meet the instructor tonight.”

*She thinks I’m some cold goddess*, Peng mused. *Guess she doesn’t wanna chat with someone like me.* Peng wasn’t one to force conversation where unwelcome.

“Thanks,” Shu Yuxin nodded.

An awkward quiet settled over the room.

Was Shu Yuxin really aloof? Not at all. If she could read minds, Peng’s assumption would’ve made her laugh. Too bad neither could.

To Mr. and Mrs. Shu, their child was cheerful and friendly—and Shu Yuxin often seemed that way too. But only around old, trusted friends. Truth was, she wasn’t naturally social. Her style was passive: wait for others to reach out first. So while she *seemed* to have many friends, only a few truly counted.

Which explains this: before becoming a girl, Shu Yuxin had never held another girl’s hand. No exaggeration—just fact. Back then, as Shu Yumo, he was merely passably good-looking. Few girls approached him. Paired with his passive nature? Nearly impossible to connect. His inner qualities might’ve scored high—but without contact, they never mattered. Friends teased him about having “no luck with women.” But real “no luck” means *no one notices you, and even when you try, they ignore you*. Shu Yuxin only met the first part. The second? Never tested.

All this meant: after twenty years, her experience talking with girls was scarce—mostly childhood memories. She had zero clue how to chat. When a girl spoke first, replies were strictly one-word answers. Awkward silences followed. Making female friends? Harder each time.

Like right now.