Ling Xie had no idea how he'd gotten home. Still in a daze, he sank into the soft white couch in his room with a muffled poof. His gaze drifted blankly to the glass table in front of him, but his thoughts were far away, lingering on the touch of that mysterious man.
Then it hit him. Phone!
The denim backpack perched on his left leg was immediately attacked. Ling Xie dumped its contents onto the white marble floor without a second thought, scrambling to find his phone.
Relief washed over him as he spotted his Samsung, still intact. Ignoring the mess he'd made, he grabbed it and quickly inspected it for anything unusual.
The lock screen seemed normal—a stunningly realistic painting of a single large rose. But when he unlocked it using both his fingerprint and an eye scan, the wallpaper that greeted him made his jaw drop.
It was him.
The picture showed the man who had held him earlier. It was clearly stolen—crookedly angled, as though it had been taken in secret. In the image, the man was mid-conversation with someone outside the camera's view, casually pinching the straw of a strawberry slush.
Ling Xie let out a high-pitched squeal that could rival any fangirl's. Overcome with a mix of embarrassment and excitement, he rolled back and forth on the floor, clutching his phone like it was a precious artifact.
'MY YI'ER HUGGED ME!!!'
Ling Xie rolled around on the floor, squealing until his racing heart finally began to calm. Holding his phone above his face, he stared at Chen Yi's picture, memorizing every detail of his face for the millionth time.
Chen Yi. A well-known, independent bachelor who owned multiple restaurant chains—and Ling Xie's ultimate crush.
Ling Xie giggled foolishly, rocking himself side to side as snippets of the evening replayed in his mind—the kabedon scene, the intensity of Chen Yi's gaze, and that brief, electrifying moment of being in his arms.
But as his thoughts wandered back to the way Chen Yi had looked at him—with those obsessed, possessive eyes—Ling Xie's giddy excitement was dampened by a swirl of conflicting emotions.
As much as he longed to be in a relationship with Chen Yi, he didn't want it to be skin-deep. He feared falling into something fleeting, only to end up broken and empty again, realizing there had been no real love from the start.
Before he could drown in his worries, a sharp series of knocks echoed through the room, pulling him from his thoughts. The double mahogany doors creaked open without waiting for a response.
A stunning woman, who looked to be in her twenties, stepped inside. She pushed a cart laden with boxes of makeup, topped with one box wrapped elegantly in blue ribbon.
"Chang'er, the floor is cold!"
Ling Xie got up hurriedly, but the sound of his mother calling him by his real name made his brows knit together. He brushed off the nonexistent dust from his clothes, quickly gathered the scattered items on the floor back into his bag, and greeted her with a brief kiss on the cheek.
"Hey, Mom," he said, his voice carrying a subtle chill.
His mother sighed, understanding the reason for his sudden mood shift. Without missing a beat, she decisively changed the subject.
"Come here." She pulled him into a warm embrace, gently patting his soft, curly hair. When she pulled back, her eyes lingered on his. The once-pure innocence that used to shine there was now dimmed, and she couldn't stop the pang of sadness that tugged at her heart. But she masked it well.
"Let's get you prepped for tonight's client, yeah?" she said, forcing a bright, sweet smile.
It worked.
Ling Xie mirrored her smile, just as bright, his hair bouncing slightly as he nodded enthusiastically. "Mn!"
Without protest, he allowed his mother to lead him to the mahogany dresser with its large, ornate mirror. She guided him into a vintage rolling chair and carefully removed his thick, fake glasses, letting his full charm shine unrestrained.
Ling Xie stared at his reflection as his mother busied herself with the preparations.
The reflection in the mirror revealed a pale-skinned youth with emerald-painted peach-blossom eyes and cheeks lightly tinged with pink. His moist red lips and androgynous allure created an image of ethereal beauty, like someone out of a dream.
Ling Xie reached up, sweeping back his soft curls and holding them in place. For a moment, he didn't see himself—he saw Cao Chang.
The him from high school. The him who had endured heartbreak and a deeply traumatizing event.
A tear threatened to spill from the corner of his eye.
"Xie'er, don't look!"
His mother's voice broke through the rising tide of emotion. She hurriedly lowered his arms back to his sides and tousled his hair, letting the curls fall messily over his face to obscure it once more.
"Close your eyes, alright? Let's do this like we always do." Her voice trembled despite her efforts to sound strong.
Ling Xie gave a small nod and obediently shut his eyes.
There was a part of him that couldn't understand why Cao Chang haunted him so much. Cao Chang was him. So why did it feel like someone else entirely?
He knew it was tied to the gaps in his memory—pieces of his past that had been lost. But the thought of uncovering them filled him with fear.
A part of him urged him to keep the past locked away—never to see the light, never to hurt him again.
As his mother worked, a variety of brushes delicately touched Ling Xie's face, while his eyes remained shut. His hair was tamed with countless bobby pins, and a long, wavy blonde wig concealed it completely, completing the transformation. After a few final dabs, his mother stopped.
"You can open them now."
Despite having seen his mother's handiwork countless times, Ling Xie still couldn't help but be amazed. The delicate, elegant girl reflected in the mirror had no trace of his former self.
He stood up, and his mother immediately handed him a red turtleneck sweater, a grey high-waisted plaid skirt, and black high-heeled boots.
"Go change."
He absently complied, slipping into his dressing room with practiced ease. The process was second nature—slipping on the fake chest, the bra, and the underwear, all of it as familiar to him as his own skin.
When he stepped back out, it was as if he had become someone entirely new. His mother beamed, nodding in approval, her eyes glinting with pride. Her son could pull off any look, and as a fashion designer, her heart swelled with satisfaction.
"You've got until eight to meet with your new client. It's still your birthday, after all. Let's celebrate with your sister when you get home."
Ling Xie lightly hugged his arms and smiled, his posture even more feminine than his mother's.
"Thank you, Mom."
His mother watched him with a hint of concern. Isn't he too good at this? she thought, her worry lingering despite her pride.