Chapter 81 081. Su Peng
An Han sat comfortably on the base of the basketball stand, sipping an icy cola and biting into chilled watermelon, having completely forgotten about his stomach trouble from two days ago. Wu Dongming was seated beside him, doing exactly the same thing—and likewise enduring the glares from a group of resentful freshmen.
But their anger didn’t intimidate either of them at all. On the contrary, the two were chatting and laughing, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
“An Han, have some humanity, will you? Dragging me out in broad daylight just for this?” Wu Dongming muttered through a mouthful of watermelon, subtly shifting his hips a little farther away from An Han.
He hadn’t hung out much with An Han lately, and now he found An Han strangely unfamiliar.
Their old dynamic—roughhousing, exchanging vulgar jokes, and scheming against each other mercilessly—was gone. With An Han’s recent changes, Wu Dongming had grown awkward around him. He no longer felt comfortable cracking his usual jokes or playfully shoving him.
Coming to the sports field with An Han now felt more like going on a date with a girl.
The problem was, he’d always been terrible around girls and had no idea what to say to them.
Wu Dongming covertly glanced at An Han’s excited expression—clearly delighted by the freshmen’s suffering while he lounged in comfort—and noticed the faint dimples on his cheeks.
But just then, An Han leaned back against the stand, his expression suddenly turning melancholic. “Son~”
“…” Wu Dongming barely resisted the urge to slap him.
“Do you know if Su Peng has a crush on anyone?”
“How would I know?”
“You’ve shared a dorm with him for two years—same as his second dad, second bell, or whatever—you must know if there’s anyone he likes! Or at least someone he’s gotten close to?”
Wu Dongming didn’t understand why An Han had suddenly become obsessed with matchmaking. After thinking it over seriously for a moment, he shook his head. “He’s pretty much a homebody.”
“So宅男 deserve to stay single! How’s he supposed to meet girls if he never leaves his room?! Yet he’s always whining about wanting a girlfriend!”
An Han ranted indignantly, leaving Wu Dongming feeling oddly targeted.
He sighed softly, slumped back against the basketball stand like a classic couch potato, occasionally taking a swig of cola—his expression practically dripping with melancholy, as if drowning his sorrows in soda.
The issue with Long Xing and Su Peng still hadn’t been resolved, and now the system was forcing him to wear a qipao... Honestly, he’d always been fascinated by traditional Chinese attire—especially those elegant qipao photoshoots of beautiful women.
But this time, *he* had to wear the qipao—and not just for a photo, but to go out in public for an entire day.
If the system hadn’t been gradually feminizing him, he might have accepted it for the sake of other rewards—just like that first time Wu Dongming tricked him into cross-dressing.
But now, he worried the system was warping not just his body, but his gender identity itself.
He reflected on the system’s recent “rewards”:
- *Cute, feminine physical traits*—making him unconsciously adopt graceful, delicate postures. Besides attracting more male attention, it was also pushing him toward more feminine behavior.
- *Feminine aesthetic preferences*—so now whenever he saw a pretty girl, his first thought was, *“That outfit would look even better on me.”*
At first, the system only tormented his body. Now it was messing with his mind.
“Hey, Dongming,” An Han suddenly turned and asked, “Is it possible for someone who’s biologically male to have a psyche just like a girl’s?”
“Aren’t you the living proof?”
“…”
“Hey, what’s it like being *princess-carried* by Su Peng?” Wu Dongming abruptly changed the subject, curiosity glittering in his eyes.
An Han froze, his face instantly burning crimson. He turned away quickly so Wu Dongming wouldn’t see his flushed cheeks, and snapped defensively, “It felt like nothing! If you hadn’t insisted on gaming yesterday, would I have gotten carried like that?!”
“Tsk tsk, lots of people saw it.”
An Han shot him a glare—but even that scowl now looked more like a girl’s coy pout than a real threat. Wu Dongming couldn’t meet his eyes, suddenly feeling inexplicably guilty, as if *he’d* done something wrong.
That feeling made Wu Dongming even more uneasy. Surrounded by An Han’s faintly floral scent, he quickly stood up. “I’m heading back to the dorm.”
“So early? Why?”
“I’ll get beaten up if I stay here any longer.” Wu Dongming tossed his watermelon rind into the trash, shook the juice off his hands, and muttered as he walked off toward the dorm, “They sell watermelon but don’t even give you a napkin…”
An Han watched his retreating figure, keenly sensing Wu Dongming’s discomfort around him.
Could it be… that even Wu Dongming’s brotherly bond was turning into something else?
But his favorability was only in the 60s, right?
“What nonsense,” he grumbled to himself. He didn’t want to stay alone on the court anymore either—afraid Wu Dongming might actually be right about getting punched.
Better focus on the quest instead.
An Han got up from the basketball stand and wandered aimlessly out of the sports field, pulling out his phone to browse qipao listings online.
He’d assumed qipaos were expensive and fancy, but to his surprise, there were cheap ones available—some for just a few dozen yuan.
He could accept wearing something that cheap once and throwing it away.
But most of the qipaos—whether on models or in customer photos—looked less like traditional attire and more like *qipao-style lingerie*.
The skirts barely covered half his thighs, many featured high slits, and some even had large chest cutouts showing bare skin. The qipao he’d imagined was the kind worn by elegant, demure ladies in period dramas—graceful and refined—not something designed to arouse men.
And he had to *wear this outside*!
That was way too intense for him.
“Maybe… that’s exactly what the system *wants* me to wear,” he thought darkly.
Thankfully, he eventually found a few modest, conservative options—still inexpensive, around 70–80 yuan.
“But… would I even look good in this?” An Han worried. “If it looks terrible, I can’t possibly wear it in public.”
“What if it doesn’t fit? I can’t exactly go get one custom-made…”
He fretted over his body shape. Even though his frame had already become noticeably slimmer than the average male’s, compared to petite girls, his bones were still too broad.
“An Han.”
He jumped in alarm. Looking up, he realized he’d wandered near the club activity room without noticing.
Su Peng must have just come out—he was wearing a white tracksuit and waving from a distance.
The moment An Han saw him, his body tensed, and his cheeks flushed pink again.
Just as Wu Dongming had said, yesterday’s incident—Su Peng carrying him bridal-style all the way from the dorm to outside campus—had been witnessed by many students. Someone had even posted about it on the school’s forum.
Fortunately, there were no photos, so the gossipers mistook it for a romantic love story—unaware that both “lovers” were, in fact, guys.
After a moment of hesitation, An Han swallowed his embarrassment and jogged over. “What is it?”
He couldn’t afford to seem too flustered—that might give Su Peng the wrong idea. Better act natural.
“Just saw you and wanted to say hi,” Su Peng said warmly, his smile bright and gentle.
Yet An Han instantly took a step back, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You definitely have an ulterior motive! Spit it out—don’t play games with me.”
“How’d you figure that out?”
“Because your smile looks fake.”
——————
By the way—what are Su Peng’s and Long Xing’s current favorability levels toward An Han again?
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