“Tinghan, you don’t seem very good at lying.”

Gu Chuan’s words landed softly. Wen Tinghan’s mind instantly tangled into knots.

“I… I…”

Her voice shrank to a whisper—wanting to speak, yet lost for words.

“No worries. It’s just us here. I’ll keep your secret.”

“Of course… if Tinghan doesn’t want her little secret found out, or isn’t ready to share… that’s totally fine too.”

Gu Chuan felt a flicker of regret.

He’d almost believed he’d finally unlocked the milestone: *“Reading doujinshi with a close friend”*—or maybe photo novels.

“Gu Chuan! Do you… really want to know?”

As if unable to bear disappointing him.

Or perhaps a decision she’d wrestled with for so long finally plummeted to the ground.

Wen Tinghan called his name, eyes still lowered, voice trembling with nervous hope:

“Can you… truly accept me… like this?”

So helpless. So fragile.

That was all Gu Chuan felt hearing those words.

Wen Tinghan had always been a delicate “boy,” but now, before him, she seemed even more tender.

Seeing her slender frame, Gu Chuan thought—if she were a girl, he’d have pulled her into his arms without hesitation.

A strange notion flickered in his chest. But he swore: it was only concern.

“No matter what you look like—I accept you.”

Their friendship needed no proof.

Gu Chuan smiled, reached out, and rested a hand on her slight shoulder.

He held back the urge to squeeze gently—afraid it might feel like overstepping with a shy girl.

Such a strange feeling…

“Th-then… could you step out… just for a moment? I’ll be quick.”

Wen Tinghan sniffled. Her eyes glistened with vulnerable sweetness, yet her lips curved into a faint, hopeful smile.

Her resolve had settled.

“…Okay.” Bewildered but obedient, Gu Chuan left.

He stepped out, pocketing two cherries, and closed the door softly.

Pacing outside, he heard the wardrobe creak open behind him, then rustling fabric.

Just then, Zaizai trotted over on stubby legs, tilting its cat head in confusion.

“Meow?”

Seeming to think Gu Chuan got kicked out, it let out a smug *“meow-ow!”*

Yet it lingered by his feet, unwilling to leave—drawn by the cherry’s scent.

Typical little rascal. Only sticks around when snacks are involved.

Gu Chuan bit a tiny piece of cherry, placed it in his palm, and offered it like last time with strawberries.

Zaizai, now familiar with his scent, stretched tiny paws to cling to his hand and licked the crimson flesh with a pink tongue.

Zaizai loved fruit.

Truth was, Zaizai just loved *food*.

Gu Chuan’s thoughts drifted to Xuechun at home—

Never picky. Cat form? Ate cat food. Catgirl form? Happily shared human meals.

“You… can come in now, Gu Chuan.”

A voice drifted from the bedroom—familiar, yet subtly changed.

Tone? Emotion?

Still Wen Tinghan.

Yet something had shifted.

As if from this moment, Wen Tinghan was no longer Wen Tinghan.

And yet… she still was.

Gu Chuan turned without hesitation.

But the instant he pushed the door open, his thoughts froze.

Zaizai, the chubby cat, froze too.

Because standing in Wen Tinghan’s room was a breathtakingly beautiful girl—appearing from nowhere.

One glance: eyes like rippling mist, stealing time itself.

No makeup. A trace of shyness and worry between her brows outshone a hundred blossoms.

Her gown shimmered with starlight and moonlight. Gauze veiled elegance—every fold, every reveal, perfectly intentional.

In a heartbeat, Gu Chuan saw porcelain-white arms, a delicate collarbone like polished jade, dainty feet meant for gentle hands.

But Wen Tinghan only saw *him* drawing near—her pulse quickening with every step.

And Zaizai? Darting faster than light on four stubby legs.

*“Meow-ow!”*

It launched into her arms, wrecking her poised moment.

What could she do? How to scold this shameless fluffball?

Flustered and blushing deeper, she barely knew where to look.

Yet a shy thought whispered in her heart:

*If it’s him… whatever he does… I wouldn’t mind…*

Gu Chuan stopped a step away.

Zaizai, nestled in her arms, waved tiny paws as if guarding her.

“I almost thought you hid a beauty in the closet…”

Now Gu Chuan understood Ji Gewei’s shock that day—

Walking into a loved one’s room… and finding a mysterious, stunning girl.

He’d nearly misunderstood Wen Tinghan—until he drew closer.

Closer… until he saw her shy-yet-inviting eyes, caught the fresh gardenia scent clinging to her.

*You are May’s gardenia. I am the youth walking beneath your bloom.*

“…”

“Then I realized… the beauty was you.”

Wen Tinghan’s chest tightened.

First compliment since dressing as herself again.

And from *him*—the one her heart held.

“Gu Chuan…” she murmured, voice no longer disguised.

Soft. Delicate. Every note like smoothed jade.

Yet fragile as early winter’s thin ice—afraid of cracking.

Who walks on thin ice?

Who touches the pure heart beneath?

His hand wrapped gently around her waist.

She sucked in a sharp breath—but held it tight, refusing to release even a sigh of the chill he brought.

Yet his words missed the mark of her longing, leaving her dazed.

“If… this is your hobby, your secret—it’s okay, Tinghan.”

“I accept it. You have every right to appreciate beauty.”

“Besides… you in women’s clothing… are breathtakingly beautiful.”

“Eh…?”

*Women’s clothing…? What does that even mean?*