What exactly felt off, he couldn’t say. Maybe it was just his imagination.

Standing at the urinal, he reached down instinctively. In that instant, a strange sensation shot straight to his brain. A jolt. His mind went blank.

Outside, silvery moonlight filtered through the clouds like gauze, draping over him. His head throbbed harder. It felt as if his soul were peeling away from his body. Just now, when he reached down, he hadn’t felt his familiar companion. That was impossible. After all these years, even with his eyes closed, he’d never lose track of it!

And so…

His mind snapped into terrifying clarity, as if struck by lightning. Cold sweat burst out across his skin. Su Yuan froze in place.

“I didn’t feel it… I really didn’t feel it!” His companion was gone. The sensation between his legs and under his fingers confirmed it: something absolutely foreign now occupied that space.

Yes. It was an utterly unfamiliar feeling.

A slit. A seam that left Su Yuan stunned and bewildered. Beneath soft, dark hair, what should have been familiar hardware had been replaced by something as astonishing as the Mariana Trench itself.

Dazed. Confused. A long, hollow silence. Only when a cold draft slipped through the window and snaked down his collar did he shiver violently, drenched in cold sweat.

He didn’t remember how he finished relieving himself. All he recalled was the soft, unsettling sound of liquid trickling from that new opening, a sound that echoed in his ears long after. Even after climbing back into his familiar bed, the noise haunted his dreams, faint yet persistent, impossible to escape.

Heat.

A burning hotter than summer’s worst blaze. In his dream, Su Yuan felt himself roasting over open flames, skin searing, organs cooking. Then a sharp blade plunged into his abdomen. Agony ripped through him.

…

Morning came. He heard Gao Jun and Ji Yehan calling his name, something about registration. Half-asleep, he mumbled that his student ID was on the desk below and asked them to sign him in. They seemed to agree.

When he woke again, it was already 9:15 a.m.

He was alone in the room.

Su Yuan sat up, rubbing his temples as if he’d downed several bottles of beer. His head still ached, his whole body soaked in sweat, strands of hair clinging damply to his cheeks. Suddenly, he remembered something. He threw off the blanket and rushed into the bathroom.

Inside, hands trembling, he slowly pulled down his underwear.

The next moment, cruel reality shattered every last shred of hope.

Gone. His companion was truly gone.

In its place, soft, shy, unmistakable, was a slit.

All strength drained from his limbs. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, mind empty. What had happened last night? He strained to recall every detail of the previous day, but nothing explained this. “It makes no sense! One minute everything’s normal, the next—this?!”

Was it supernatural?

A ghost story?

This wasn’t fiction. It was real life. Even in novels, such a twist would come with clear foreshadowing. Where were the clues? The buildup? How could something this monumental happen without warning?

After a long while, the chill of the floor brought him back. He stood up, pulled his underwear back on.

Su Yuan wasn’t weak-minded. The initial shock had overwhelmed him, but given time, he began to steady. He looked into the large mirror hanging in the bathroom. Maybe it was his imagination, but his features seemed softer now, less angular. Still recognizably himself… yet undeniably more delicate.

That “pretty” look people teased him about? Now it was undeniable.

A wave of despair hit him. Could he have been abducted by aliens halfway through the night for some bizarre experiment?

That was the only explanation that made any sense.

Perhaps extraterrestrials from deep space, observing Earth’s civilization, grew curious about human gender dynamics, so unlike other animals. Since they reproduced asexually (like Namekians, he thought bitterly), they wanted to test whether human consciousness shaped behavior. And so, they chose him, a random college student, as their test subject, using advanced tech to switch his sex for long-term observation.

(Of course, this was pure fantasy. But right now, it felt more plausible than reality.)

Then another terrifying thought struck him: Was this change complete, or just superficial? If they’d merely removed his original parts without giving him functional replacements, the situation wouldn’t just be tragic, it would be catastrophic. As someone who valued completeness, Su Yuan needed a full transformation. Anything less was unacceptable.

The more he thought about it, the more panicked he became. What if those “aliens” were lazy amateurs? What if they’d simply cut him off and forgotten to install the proper female anatomy? Then he’d be stuck as a broken experiment, neither one thing nor the other.

And if those aliens barely understood human biology, treating gender like a casual science project… that made them dangerous amateurs. Very dangerous.

Cold water rained down from the showerhead, washing away the sweat. Su Yuan changed into clean, neutral clothing, withdrew a few hundred-yuan bills from an ATM, and headed straight for the Second Hospital near campus.

…

At the hospital registration window:

“Sign me up!” a slender young man said to the clerk, a woman in her early twenties.

“Which department?” she asked routinely.

“A full physical,” Su Yuan said through gritted teeth.

The clerk smiled slightly. She studied him, no, her, and hesitated. Was this a boy or a girl? With androgynous beauty so common these days, it was hard to tell.

“Name?”

“Su Yuan.”

“Gender?” She waited expectantly.

“...Female.”

After a tense pause, Su Yuan finally whispered the word, voice faint as a breath, as if the syllable drained all his energy.

Now understanding, the clerk asked gently, “Full body check-up, or specifically female-related exams?”

“What’s the difference?” Su Yuan asked, confused.

“A general exam covers standard health checks. A female-specific one…” She gave a knowing smile. (She was actually a nursing intern, temporarily assigned to the front desk, and found Su Yuan oddly endearing.)

“I’ll take the second,” Su Yuan muttered.

The nurse processed the request cheerfully. But when Su Yuan received the medical card, she advised against the full gynecological panel. It was expensive. Better to consult a doctor first and get targeted tests. Su Yuan agreed. As a student, he couldn’t afford to blow his meal budget on unnecessary procedures.

Standing outside the gynecology clinic, his face burned. If he was wrong, the embarrassment would be unbearable. But he’d checked online beforehand, compared images of female anatomy to his own. The match was exact. He had to be right.

After minutes of hesitation, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The room was simple: a desk, a computer, an examination bed. He closed the door. Only he and a female doctor in her fifties remained.

Thank goodness it was a woman. He’d heard some gynecologists were male. If so, he’d have turned and fled.

The doctor, experienced and perceptive, recognized his shyness immediately. “Don’t be nervous, dear. It’s just us. You can tell me anything.”

She noticed his pretty face, clearly a beauty, but his chest was flat. She smiled knowingly, guessing his unspoken worry. “You think something’s wrong with your body, but you don’t know how to say it, do you?”

Su Yuan nodded vigorously.

“I’m Dr. Li,” she said kindly. “Now, please take off your clothes and lie down on the bed.”

It was summer, just a thin top and pants. At the instruction, Su Yuan froze. Dr. Li chuckled. “What are you so shy about? I’m not going to eat you. Go on, take off your pants too.”

Su Yuan forced a weak smile, reminding himself this was just a medical exam. With clumsy, hesitant motions, he undressed and climbed onto the bed.

Dr. Li, used to such scenes, picked up her stethoscope. But when she saw he still wore men’s underwear, she shook her head and gently removed it herself.

A cool draft hit his skin. This was really happening.

“Lift your legs and open them,” Dr. Li instructed calmly.

Like a reluctant initiate, Su Yuan obeyed, guided by her hands. His most private part was now fully exposed.

Under the doctor’s gaze, the delicate organ looked like a flower about to bloom, fragile, innocent, deeply moving. Dr. Li glanced at Su Yuan’s tightly shut eyes and murmured softly, “You’re a good child.”

In today’s world of indulgence and excess, such untouched purity was rare.

Her expression softened with quiet respect.