Chapter 94 093. Qipao
It was a short white qipao. The moment An Han saw it, he immediately called out toward the door.
“Lin Yi! Why is it a short one?!”
He had wanted a long, modest qipao!
“So what? Showing more skin attracts more customers!” came the reply from outside.
“Then why are you wearing so much?!”
The voice outside suddenly lowered. Lin Yi muttered defensively, “You’re a guy—what’s the big deal if other guys see you wearing less? It’s not like your dormmates haven’t seen you completely naked before.”
“???”
What kind of logic was that?!
“Hurry up and put it on! I still need to do your makeup!”
Lin Yi’s reasoning seemed... slightly plausible?
That thought involuntarily flickered through An Han’s mind—but he immediately shook it off in frustration.
Plausible my ass!
He hesitated, holding the qipao up with both hands and examining it carefully.
It actually looked... pretty nice?
It was a sleeveless, white, floral-patterned short qipao. At first glance, the whole outfit looked unusually petite and delicate, making An Han wonder if he could even fit into it.
His aesthetic sense loved it—and even An Han himself started to feel curious about how he’d look wearing it.
His blood rushed to his head. With a flushed face, he set the qipao aside and quickly stripped off his T-shirt and long pants.
The fabric felt reasonably thick, but An Han still dug two band-aids out of his pants pocket and stuck them over his nipples to avoid any embarrassing outlines or exposure.
Normally, dressed as a guy, even if his nipples showed, no one would care—and besides, he usually wore an outer layer to cover up anyway.
He slipped the qipao over his body and tried to zip up the back, but his arms weren’t flexible enough. He managed to pull the zipper up from his lower back to just below his shoulder blades, but couldn’t reach any higher.
“Lin Yi!” Though embarrassed, An Han had no choice but to call for help.
“What’s up?”
“Give me your hand—help me zip this up.”
“OK~”
The stall door cracked open slightly, and Lin Yi’s hand reached in, fumbling around. An Han turned his back, aligning the zipper’s position.
Soon, her hand brushed against his bare back—but instead of finding the zipper, it slid across his smooth skin.
“Lower… to the bottom left.”
Lin Yi giggled teasingly from outside, “Your skin’s really nice—so soft and smooth~”
*You could have skin this good too if you had a system like mine.*
“Do you use body lotion after every shower or something?”
“No!”
“Then how come your skin’s better than mine…?” Lin Yi sounded almost envious. “Seriously, you’d be better off just becoming a girl. If there were more guys like you, I’d die of jealousy.”
Finally, she found the zipper and pulled it all the way up.
An Han immediately shoved her hand out and slammed the door shut. Only then did he look down to examine himself in the qipao.
The qipao featured a teardrop-shaped cutout at the center of his collarbone—about the size of a baby’s fist—revealing a patch of fair skin. The sleeveless design left his shoulder blades exposed, and his round, pale shoulders sloped down into a pair of strikingly defined collarbones that shifted subtly with his movements.
The qipao hugged his waist tightly, emphasizing a slender, willowy figure. Below that, its silhouette flared gently outward, accentuating the soft curve of his petite hips.
The more An Han inspected himself, the deeper the crimson spread across his cheeks—his ears and neck burning with shame so intense he half-expected steam to be rising from his head.
But the real problem was the skirt.
His slender, straight legs extended beneath it. The hem barely covered half his thighs, and the side slit—designed for ease of movement—reached nearly to his groin, revealing a hint of his underwear.
“At least I’m wearing boxers…”
In this situation, his usual boxers would have to double as safety shorts.
“Lin Yi… Damn it!”
He was furious and embarrassed, muttering curses under his breath.
But when he glanced up at the mirror in the corner, a tiny, secret delight flickered through his shame.
An Han knew his mindset was messed up—he wanted to correct it—but he couldn’t stop the flood of dopamine his brain kept pumping out.
“Are you done yet?!” Lin Yi called impatiently from outside. “How long does it take to put on clothes?!”
“Done.”
Lin Yi pushed the door wide open, her face full of eager mischief—only to freeze the moment she saw him. Her expression instantly darkened.
“Hurry up,” An Han said, already seated at a simple makeup table. When he heard no movement, he turned back with an annoyed frown. “What’s wrong?”
He was deeply unhappy with the qipao style Lin Yi had chosen—but now that he’d already put it on, he had no choice but to go through with it.
“Are you really a guy?” Lin Yi asked, yet again baffled, her eyes fixed on An Han’s chest. Even through the snug fabric, the subtle curves were unmistakable.
And that slim, graceful figure—while not voluptuous—still carried a delicate, youthful charm.
She was so jealous she nearly bit her tongue. She tracked every calorie, avoided all treats, and did yoga daily just to maintain her figure, yet this guy, who clearly didn’t put in half the effort, was almost as well-proportioned as she was—only slightly smaller in bust and hips.
“I’m a guy!” An Han snapped, shooting her a glare.
But Lin Yi’s stunned, almost envious expression secretly thrilled him—his brain buzzing with excitement again.
“What kind of guy has boobs?” Lin Yi muttered as she approached.
Even with his short, masculine haircut, An Han now looked thoroughly feminine. His minor masculine facial features were easily overlooked.
Only his shoulders remained slightly broader than a typical woman’s—a flaw emphasized by the sleeveless cut.
“I’ll drape a short capelet over you to soften your shoulders,” Lin Yi said, studying his face. “And your hairstyle… you should let a few strands fall along your cheeks…”
“Don’t talk to me about that—I don’t understand any of it.”
“Alright, then I’ll do your makeup.”
“Hurry up.”
An Han was eager—almost impatient—to see his finished look.
He knew this eagerness was abnormal for a “normal” guy… clear evidence of psychological issues. But at this point, he’d already given up.
He’d already put it on. He might as well surrender to the pleasure his “aesthetic trait” was giving him.
At this stage, he couldn’t just take it off and walk away.
After all… failing the task meant forced execution by the system.
Just imagine—the system, that heartless bastard, would undoubtedly make him buy the most scandalous, seductive qipao imaginable and force him to strut down the street in it!
The thought alone made An Han’s face go pale—his blush fading in sheer horror.
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