“We girls should dress beautifully—that’s just how it is! Ignore those gross, shrimp-headed 🦐 guys ogling us. As independent women of the new era, we have the right to wear whatever we want! Sis, wear what makes you happy!!”

Hua Xin scoffs coldly and swipes past the video.

She’s a veteran of Anti-Bar, Sun-Bar, Jia-Bar, Nei-Bar, Li Yi Bar, Meizu Like Spring Yan Bar, Nuclear War Bunker Bar, Arknights Foot-Stink Bar, Lei Huo Zhi Jian Bar, Burning ** Chasing Stars Boy Bar...  
As a certified member of the “League of Handsome Bros,” could she really be brainwashed by some obvious XXN influencer? 😡

Besides—she specifically searched for “girls’ fashion,” so why is this video just a long-winded lecture?!  
If you’re not showing legs or anything revealing, who’s even watching?? (Slams table furiously.)

…Though, to be fair, that “shrimp-head girl” wasn’t entirely wrong.  
Without clothing freedom, where would she find those fire-hot cosplayers on Yinfu (Music/Video App) to feast her eyes on? 😚  
Who else would cater to her royal pleasure? 👑

Her mind drifts—  
A teacher in a little black dress, fish-tail skirt, black thigh-highs, and a sleek black collar sways seductively on-screen, hips rolling to the beat of the BGM... 🤤

Ah~ 😋 Isn’t that ZZZ’s famous “Shark Girl”?  
She doesn’t even play the game, but… she’s adorable. Wanna— 🤤

And just like that, the long-lost “niniu” that had flown off into freedom seemed to soar right back to her side, standing tall and proud once more...

Hua Xin’s hand drifts downward—then… and then…

Nope. Nothing happens. (Silence.)

(You’re dreaming, dummy! 🤣)

Wiping the drool from her chin, she keeps scrolling—tears welling in her eyes. 💧

“Tips for meeting your boyfriend! Girls, I just discovered the ultimate ‘attack-speed outfit’—wear black thigh-highs under your jeans or sweatpants, then ‘accidentally’ reveal them at the hotel. Guaranteed to boost his stamina by a whole box’s worth…”

“?”

Hua Xin feels her already-distant “niniu” retreating even further into the void.

Wait—  
I searched for girls’ fashion!!!  
Why am I getting “boyfriend tips”?!?!  
I swear, I’ll dig a hole and bury you all alive!! 😡 (Single-dog rage.)

And—hello?—where exactly is my boyfriend?? 🤔  
I’M A GUY!!!! (Blushes, tries to sound defiant.)

“Hextech’s latest innovation! Magical push-up pads instantly turn A-cups into E-cups!!! Girls, I found this amazing product recently…”

Hua Xin twitches. Suddenly recalling some past images she’s seen, she shoves her keyboard forward, sits up straighter, and shifts her posture confidently.

Duang duang (her chest gently bouncing on the desk).

Ahhh… feels so light now…  
She lets out a vague, relieved sigh, smugly eyeing the salesy influencer on-screen.

“Hehe, ‘Hextech’? Pfft. I’m 100% all-natural—a meta-defining, stat-buffed goddess. Like I’d need that junk?” (Scoffs.)

Next!

“How to quickly win your boyfriend’s heart? After a month of research, I’ve found the ultimate answer: unbeatable texture, whisper-quiet smoothness, seamless white thigh-highs with dreamy sheer coverage…”

Snap.

She closes the app, utterly exasperated.

She gets it. She understands. She’s seen it all—and yes, she likes it…  
—but ONLY when someone else is wearing it, getting pampered like a cream-filled puff pastry, then tearfully whining about it afterward!!! 😭

She needs outfits she can actually *wear outside*—  
not this fantasy stuff...

What even is her style...?

She sits up straight—and instantly, that familiar weight returns, gravity reasserting its undeniable authority.

She only searched out of curiosity... definitely not because she wanted to try crossdressing herself. Nope. Never.

Her gaze drifts to the corner of her room, where a pile of old, unfashionable clothes sits shoved away.  
Yet seeing them fills her with a deep sense of comfort.

“Yeah… you old buddies never let me down…”

Ding ding!  
Cough cough.

Just as she finishes her heartfelt sentiment, a QQ message pings on her computer.

“He… replied??”  
“Time to cash in, old man—start dropping those coins!”

A faint blush rises on her cheeks from embarrassment—but her eyes stay stubbornly proud.

Online #1 Bestie: “Not happening.”

“?”

Her happy little face instantly freezes. The blush deepens. (40°C)

Online #1 Bestie: “You really think I’d believe some sweaty dude suddenly using a voice changer and claiming to be a girl—and then fall for you?”

(50°C)

Online #1 Bestie: “Did playing cat games rot your brain? Do you even remember what Sett’s ultimate is called? 👊🏻”

(60°C)

Online #1 Bestie: “Not replying? Listen up—doesn’t matter if you’re guy or girl, I’ll stomp you either way. 😋”

(70°C)

Online #1 Bestie: “Your scam’s weak. Might as well just say you’re a tea seller whose grandpa raised you alone.”

(80°C)

Online #1 Bestie: “Where’d you buy that voice changer? Not bad, actually helped me out. Pro tip: if you’re this bad, just practice more. One day you’ll realize—you’ll never hit Master.”

(CRITICAL HIT – 100°C)

“AHHHHH!!! 😡 AAAAAAH!!! 😡 AAAAAAAAAH!!!! 😡 👊🏻 AAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! 🤒” (Boiling over)

Her chest heaves violently as she hyperventilates, her composure crumbling. She leaps 🐵 onto her bed and starts pummeling her pillow like it’s her enemy.

I’m gonna punch you at birth—I’ll kill you, KILL you, KILL-SHA-SHA-SHA-SHA— (gasping for air)...

Peng peng!

Another message notification.

“Oh, you’re DEAD... I swear I’ll—”

Fuming, she flops back into her chair, ready to unleash hell—  
but then remembers her true goal.

Her flushed face cools slightly.

“Patience. Lose your temper, lose the money. Lose your cool, lose everything...”

She can’t crack first.  
Haha… she’s not mad at all… not one bit...

Online #1 Bestie: “If you’re really a girl, call me ‘husband,’ send a leg pic—no typing. I don’t have time to play games.”

“Bro.”

(1000°C — SYSTEM OVERLOAD)

That single word—“Bro”—shatters her last thread of sanity.

She grabs her phone and fires off a voice message, screaming with unrestrained fury:

Invincible Kitty Paw:
“You piece of TRASH 🗑️, MAGGOT 🐛, PERVERT 🤳🏻, BORN-DOG 🐶, FILTHY SHRIMP-HEADED 🦐 SCUMBAG—GO DIE!!!  
Wanna see my legs?!? I’LL STOMP YOUR PERVERT FACE INTO THE GROUND!!!”

She stomps hard on the floor—*thud thud thud*—as if personally crushing Xia Yan underfoot.

After this cathartic barrage of loving curses, she collapses back into her chair, utterly drained.

…She messed up. 🥺  
…but damn, that felt good. 😋

She revels in the imaginary victory—yet also realizes she’s failed her original mission:  
to make that dumb dog fall head-over-heels, become obsessed, and shower her in gold coins.

(Sobs internally. 😭)

————————

Elsewhere, Xia Yan walks down the street, one hand holding steamed buns and soy milk, the other casually gripping his phone.

Vibrate.

Still salty, huh?

He’d been so aggressive already—yet this dude still tries to pose as a girl?  
Nope. The act’s falling apart.

He raises an eyebrow at the two new voice messages, taps to play them, and holds the phone to his ear.

(After listening to the “limited-edition, affectionate scolding”)

Xia Yan: “….”

Good thing he never uses speakerphone.

The voice… doesn’t sound like a voice changer at all.  
Steady breath, naturally sweet tone, clear enunciation—no digital distortion. And there were actual footstep sounds in the background.

…Could she actually be a girl??

He frowns. Her past messages really didn’t read “feminine” at all…  
But then again—if she’s just a hardcore female gamer… maybe it’s possible?

Completely unfazed, Xia Yan types a calm reply, tucks his phone into his pocket, and keeps walking as if nothing happened—  
as handsome, composed, and effortlessly cool as ever.

————————


Ding ding. Cough cough.

Huh? Not him again…

Hua Xin reluctantly opens the message, exhaustion written all over her face.  
Her stamina’s too weak—daily meme-scrolling clearly isn’t building her physical resilience.

Online #1 Bestie: “Wifey, scold me some more 🥵 — I love it. And show me those legs 🥵.”

Hua Xin: “?”