Chapter 95 094. Why Is There Another Skirt—No Wings Again?
“Bro Long, I told you to get up earlier,” Chen Junjie said, standing outside the convention hall with the look of a man who’d already lost all hope in life.
He stared ahead at the winding, serpentine line snaking into the venue. Though they’d only waited less than ten minutes, an overwhelming exhaustion had already settled deep in his bones.
“There are way too many people lining up…” he groaned. “And the sun’s so damn hot—why didn’t you bring an umbrella, Bro Long?”
“What kind of man carries an umbrella?” Long Xing crossed his arms, his muscular frame and intimidating scowl—accentuated by the tattoos snaking up his arms—keeping a full meter of personal space cleared around him.
Suddenly, he turned to Chen Junjie and asked, “Where’s Xiao Han? I saw him rush out early this morning.”
“Probably on a date with his boyfriend,” Chen Junjie muttered sarcastically—whenever the topic was An Han, his mouth always spat venom.
But recalling An Han’s adorably flustered antics from the night before, he felt a pang of guilt and quickly backtracked: “Maybe he went out with Su Peng from next door. I noticed Su Peng wasn’t in the dorm this morning either.”
“Su Peng, huh…” Long Xing nodded thoughtfully.
Lately, An Han and Su Peng had been spending a lot of time together—An Han even loved calling Su Peng “my disciple” just to tease him.
After about half an hour of queuing, the two finally entered the venue. All their earlier fatigue vanished the moment they saw familiar cosplay characters all around. Excited, they wandered through the massive hall, snapping photos of every pretty cosplayer they could find.
At the main stage, popular online “otaku dance” UPloaders were performing the iconic “Gokuraku Jodo” (“Pure Land”). Long Xing and Chen Junjie kept their phones raised the entire time, filming nonstop—only resuming their wanderings once the stage performance took a break.
It wasn’t until they’d reached a quiet corner that Chen Junjie suddenly blinked in surprise and asked, “Wait, they sell hanfu at comic cons now?”
“Maybe some hanfu shops also make cosplay outfits?” Long Xing replied.
Following Chen Junjie’s gaze, Long Xing spotted a girl standing outside a hanfu booth—dressed in an exquisitely ornate, ancient-style outfit.
She looked oddly familiar. After staring for a few seconds, realization struck him. He slapped Chen Junjie hard on the shoulder. “Isn’t that Lin Yi?”
The blow nearly knocked Chen Junjie to his knees. He winced in pain, rubbing his sore shoulder and complaining, “Bro Long, go easier next time! So what if it’s Lin Yi? It’s not like it’s An Han!”
Living with Long Xing came with one major problem: the guy loved slapping shoulders and throwing arms around necks. With others, it might’ve been fine—but Long Xing lifted weights every day. His strength was monstrous, and Chen Junjie’s slight frame simply couldn’t handle it.
“How could Xiao Han be here?” Long Xing muttered under his breath as he squinted at the distance. “Though… Lin Yi does look pretty good in hanfu.”
“I tried asking her out once—turns out she’s got a boyfriend,” Chen Junjie sighed.
“I’m not like you,” Long Xing said with disdain, shooting him a look of contempt.
Just as Long Xing turned to leave, his peripheral vision caught another figure stepping out from the same booth.
Though far away, something about that silhouette felt oddly familiar.
“Another classmate?” he murmured, stopping to stare.
It was a slender girl in a short white qipao. She seemed shy, hands clasped in front of her, head bowed, occasionally tugging at her skirt. From beneath the hem, a pair of long, fair, perfectly straight legs extended—so long they seemed unreal. The high side slit revealed just a hint of what lay deeper beneath.
Her waist was delicate, her curves hugged flawlessly by the form-fitting qipao—drawing the hungry gazes of every man nearby.
Long Xing stood frozen, jaw slightly agape.
Seeing his dazed, lovesick expression, Chen Junjie joked, “I could lick that girl’s legs so hard they’d break.”
Before the words even left his mouth, Long Xing whacked him again—this time with at least double the force. Chen Junjie turned ghostly pale, half his soul seemingly knocked out of his body.
“Let’s go take a closer look,” Long Xing said, his face flushing with excitement, blood pumping wildly.
*So I really am normal!* he thought triumphantly.
*My crush on An Han was just because of that damn crossdressing illusion! Look—this girl’s got me hooked too!*
His heart pounded faster, his fingertips tingled, and an overwhelming impulse surged through him. He quickened his pace toward the hanfu stall, eager to hear the girl’s voice, to brush against her fingers…
As he drew closer, the girl’s petite, fragile figure became clearer. His heartbeat accelerated—nearing 200 beats per minute—his chest ready to burst.
Perhaps hearing his urgent footsteps, the girl lifted her head and turned toward him.
Her face was nothing short of breathtaking—delicate, doll-like, dusted with a soft, innocent blush. Her almond-shaped eyes held shyness and embarrassment, while a tiny mole just below the outer corner of one eye added a teasing hint of allure.
It was the kind of face that sparked both protective instincts and the desire to tease mercilessly.
But the moment Long Xing recognized her, his heart nearly stopped.
That face was far too familiar.
He was still uncertain—until the girl’s expression shifted to panic, forcing an awkward, polite smile that revealed faint dimples on her cheeks. That sealed his fate.
He was convinced now: in a past life, he and An Han must’ve been mortal enemies.
In his entire twenty years, only two girls had ever made his heart race—and both turned out to be An Han in drag.
“…”
An Han, standing near the booth, offered Long Xing a strained smile—then quietly stepped back. Shame flooded through him, his skin rapidly reddening.
He didn’t know what to say. Even though he’d mentally prepared for running into Long Xing, he still instinctively lowered his head and tried to slip back into the shop—his legs moving on their own.
“An Han?” Lin Yi grabbed his wrist. “What are you dawdling for?”
“I… uh…”
Lin Yi finally noticed his face—flushed so deeply it looked like it might bleed—and followed his gaze to the approaching figures.
“Wait… is that your roommate?” she whispered, spotting Long Xing frozen in place. She wrapped her arms around An Han’s shoulders. “He recognized you? That can’t be—he shouldn’t have! I did your makeup and put on a wig!”
“So… he didn’t recognize me?” An Han asked timidly, peeking up.
Long Xing was still standing there, eyes locked on him.
An Han’s expression crumpled like a kicked puppy. “Does that look like someone who *didn’t* recognize me?!”
Lin Yi blinked innocently. “Maybe… he didn’t?”
An Han had expected he *might* run into Long Xing at the con—but actually facing him left him utterly panicked.
Worse yet—Chen Junjie was now heading this way too!
Being seen in女装 by Long Xing was bad enough—they’d been through this before—but Chen Junjie? If *he* saw An Han like this—in a scandalously short qipao—he’d never hear the end of it!
An Han tugged desperately at Lin Yi’s sleeve.
“Then go hide inside?” she suggested.
“Bro Long!” Chen Junjie suddenly jogged over. “Why’d you walk so fast?”
An Han’s breath hitched. He spun sideways, pretending to adjust clothes on a nearby rack, keeping his head down and silent.
Meanwhile, Long Xing lifted his face—a face now drained of all emotion, filled only with the hollow despair of a man whose faith in love had just shattered.
“Bro Long, what’s wrong? You’ve just been standing here like a statue,” Chen Junjie said, glancing casually at An Han’s back. He leaned in and whispered, “Her chest’s a bit small, sure—but damn, those legs! If you’re too shy, I’ll go ask for her WeChat for you?”
“No thanks,” Long Xing replied, his voice utterly defeated.
Lol🤣😹