"Dongming, I need your help with something. Don’t be scared—I’m not a pervert."

Under the deep night sky, the roadside barbecue stall hung thick with smoky grilling aromas. Seated at makeshift tables beneath a banyan tree, the young man’s expression was grave as he gazed at his old friend across from him.

"Go ahead."

"I think I’ve encountered a system—the kind from novels. Complete tasks, get rewards."

"Mm, keep going."

"There are lines of text floating above your head. A three-choice task. I’ve already accepted Option One."

"Bro… Have you read too many novels, or is something wrong with your head? Stop messing around."

"I’m not joking!"

He stood up, palms flat on the table, leaning forward with dead-serious intensity.

"Dongming, cross-dress! Just put on women’s clothes! I’ll treat you to this whole barbecue—deal?"

His eyes locked onto the glowing text above Dongming’s head, face alight with desperate hope.

[Option 1: Dress Wu Dongming in women’s clothing. Reward: A property

Option 2: Sincerely confess to Wu Dongming: “My world holds ten thousand steeds and armies, yet shrinks to only you.” Reward: Basic English proficiency

Option 3: Treat Wu Dongming to a meal. Reward: Random attribute points

Task 1 selected. Complete ASAP!]

An Han had no clue where the system came from—but he knew his life was about to peak.

Every system-bound protagonist became a global tycoon or legendary hero. And him? He was the protagonist now.

A whole property! Even in a small city, flipping it meant easy millions. Financial freedom was *right there*.

And the task? Just get Dongming to cross-dress.

"…"

Dongming looked up. Seeing that hopeful little gleam in Han’s eyes, he fell speechless.

The air froze. Awkward tension thickened.

"An Han…" Dongming’s voice sharpened. "We’re college juniors! Can you stop using me for jokes?"

"Even if I’m guilty, let the law punish me! I must’ve been insane to befriend you."

Head bowed in helpless resignation, he nibbled a skewer while listing Han’s crimes: "Freshman year—I just got a girlfriend, and you fucking ruined it."

"Sophomore year—I’m on the phone with my mom, and you shout ‘husband’ beside me! Now my family thinks I’m gay!"

His voice rose, years of grievances boiling over: "And now you want to trick me into cross-dressing?!"

"I said—it’s a system task!" Han cut in, panicked more secrets would spill.

"The system *requires* you to cross-dress! I bought the wig, short skirt, thigh-high socks—your favorite style!"

"How about this? I’ll split the reward fifty-fifty!" Han offered, pained.

Silence stretched. Han remained standing, gaze earnest. "Please… cross-dress for me."

"Bro, *I’m* begging *you*—act human!"

Dongming covered his face, shielding from curious onlookers. "Liking skirts doesn’t mean I’ll wear them, okay?!"

"Skirts were invented for men originally!"

"Not my problem. I’m not wearing it."

"Just help me finish the task. *Please*."

"Did *you* complete it?"

"How can I if you won’t cross-dress?"

Dongming stared at An Han like he was a freak, a pervert, certifiably unhinged.

Classmates. The only two Dota 2 players in class. Not dormmates, yet closer than brothers.

Problem was An Han… Call him "wildly unconventional" politely. Bluntly? "Pervert" fit perfectly.

After a long pause, Han whispered: "What will it *take* for you to cross-dress?"

"I’m stone-cold straight! Only *you’d* suggest this!" Dongming snapped. "You’re under 170cm with that uke face—why don’t *you* cross-dress?!"

"If the task was *my* cross-dressing, think I’d beg like this?" Han shot back. "You’re under 170cm too!"

With utter despair, he sat, skewer in hand. "You cross-dress… I’ll give you 300 bucks."

"Not even if you call me Dad!"

"Dad! Cross-dress! I’ll transfer 1,000 *now*!"

Dongming nearly spat out his cola. "No! You ungrateful brat!"

"If someone paid *me* to cross-dress, I’d agree…"

"Don’t you *fucking* compare us!"

Dongming didn’t believe in systems. But he knew: if he cross-dressed, An Han would tease him forever.

He could already picture Han at his gravesite, waving a tiny yellow-paper skirt, cracking jokes.

Han couldn’t abandon this task.

*A whole apartment!* Home county prices topped 10k per sqm! Dongming in a skirt = twenty years of struggle saved.

"We’ve been brothers for decades…" Han sighed mournfully. "Won’t you do this tiny favor?"

"Get lost! We haven’t known each other three years!"

Seeing Dongming’s firm refusal, Han’s mind went blank.

Straight talk? Dismissed. Cold cash? Refused.

Yet Dongming spammed Bilibili comments urging UPers to cross-dress. Why refuse when it’s *him*?

Stalemate. Han’s spirit dimmed. He sighed, chewing skewers glumly.

"How about this?"

"Hm?" Han’s eyes lit up.

Dongming chugged his cola dry, squinted with a sly grin. "You cross-dress first for me to see… *then* I’ll do it."

"You’re not tricking me?"

Han eyed him suspiciously.

Truth was, Han pulled stunts—but Dongming wasn’t innocent either. In life, in Dota 2, they sabotaged each other daily. Surface-level brothers. Secretly wishing the other would drop dead.

…That’s just sworn brothers for you.

"Really, why lie?" Dongming shook his head. "After all these years—if you don’t trust me, fine. *You* asked *me* first."

"Deal!"

Risk of betrayal? Worth it. Han wouldn’t give up scoring a property for free.

Energy surged. He stood, calling to the stall owner: "Boss! Bill please!"

Before the owner approached, he turned to Dongming: "After barbecue, straight to dorm for clothes! Worried about being seen? We’ll book a hotel room—sound good?"

"Whatever."

"You’re truly the best brother of my lifetime~"

"Hmph."