Chapter 25 Chapter 25: My Weird Knowledge Just Increased Part 3
“Tingyun,” He Xiaohan said softly as a tear slid down her cheek, his voice instantly gentler. “Even if we went back to how things were before… do you really think we could make it work?”
“I understand your pain. I know your fears. And I know you still love me,” he continued.
“But you also know—this has all been going on for so long. Both of us have changed. Deeply.” A note of helplessness crept into his tone. “Be honest with yourself: we’re already on completely different paths. The only reason I’m still around is because you’re fragile right now—you need someone to vent to.”
He gave a bitter, self-deprecating smile.
“And let’s be real—He Xiaohan isn’t the person he used to be. The He Xiaohan standing here now? He’s just a scumbag.”
Little Wen Su stared at her mother’s tear-streaked face, confusion clouding her innocent eyes.
The adult world was far too complicated for her to understand.
“You’ve been running from reality for too long,” He Xiaohan said, his voice now cool and clear. “But the truth is right in front of you: Wen Su is here. It’s done. Final.”
“Stop pinning hopes on me. Maybe I should’ve walked away from you a long time ago.” His expression grew pained, conflicted.
“Wen Su is your child. Yes, she might feel like a chain tying you to this life—but she’s innocent. I get that you hate being trapped, that you despise this home… but this is reality. You know you can’t abandon her. And yet, you don’t have the means to raise her on your own.”
“So change your mindset,” he said after a long silence, voice low but firm.
“He Xiaohan…” Shu Tingyun whimpered, her voice raw with tears.
“I could tell you right now that I’ll take care of you and Wen Su—but she’s not my blood. How can you be sure I won’t change my mind someday?” He smiled faintly, almost mockingly.
Shu Tingyun looked up at him, her face soaked with tears.
“People change. I have my own dreams too—and they don’t involve you.”
He watched her wipe her tears. His eyes softened again—but his expression remained still as still water, utterly devoid of warmth.
“Your choices from now on are none of my business. You have a family now. And I… I don’t feel the same way about you anymore. We’re adults. It’s time you woke up.”
“You only have two options,” he said plainly.
“Either accept your current life and give Wen Su a stable childhood…
or build your strength until you can support her on your own—and then leave.”
...
He Xiaohan stepped onto the bustling street. From his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and took a slow drag. Smoke curled around his face, his eyes hollow and distant.
He remembered that summer after high school graduation—when Shu Tingyun, devastated by her poor college entrance exam results, was forced by her family into marriage.
He could never forget that night she called him, sobbing, confessing she’d slept with that man.
She’d always poured her pain onto him. When Wen Su was born, she nearly broke down—terrified, helpless, filled with regret. But over time, her outbursts faded. Not because she’d accepted her fate or resolved to change it—but because she’d started clinging to him as her escape.
He took another drag, then checked his phone. A few unread messages from Ji Qingying:
“Why aren’t you replying?”
“Just woke up. Couldn’t sleep last night,” he typed back. “Wanna hang out? Catch a movie?”
“Now? But I haven’t done my makeup yet…”
“Then let’s meet once you’re done.”
“Okay :)”
...
Meanwhile, Xu Yecheng suddenly remembered something crucial—he’d forgotten to measure his *shoe size*.
After transforming, his feet had shrunk too. His old shoes definitely wouldn’t fit his girl form.
He stood up, glanced at his roommates sprawled on their beds, then slipped into the bathroom.
Clothes could be bought for under 100 yuan, but decent shoes? Those always cost over 100—no way around it.
Inside the bathroom, he put on the mask. His clothes loosened and slid down his body. He wiped the water off the sink with a tissue and sat on the edge.
Rolling up his pant legs, he peeled off his socks—and stared.
A pair of pale, delicate feet met his eyes. The skin on the tops was so thin he could see faint blue veins. His toes were small, rounded, and tinged with the softest pink.
He sighed—then instantly froze as the sound, clear and unexpectedly high-pitched, echoed in the tiled space.
Oh crap! What am I even DOING?!
His heart hammered in his chest.
After double-checking that no one outside had heard, he finally measured his foot length.
…Okay, he had to admit—damn, they’re actually really pretty.
He wasn’t a foot fetishist or anything, but smooth, fair skin just… looked nice.
Size 37.
He lowered his legs—his toes just barely touched the floor.
Wait… my legs are this long?
He blinked in shock. He was only about 170 cm tall!
If a real girl looked like this… she’d be absolutely adorable.
The thought made him sigh again. Such a lovely exterior—wasted on a rough, ordinary guy like him. His insides didn’t match the cute girl staring back from the mirror at all.
…Then again, if a girl this sweet did exist in real life, someone like him—a total nobody—would never even get the chance to meet her.
He let out a resigned breath.
Standing up from the sink, he brushed aside the strands hanging over his eyes.
Long hair had a strange sensation—he’d noticed it before. His bangs fell over his forehead; whenever he moved, the strands tickled his skin. Annoying at first, but easy enough to get used to.
When he tilted his head slightly, the hair would cascade around his face, narrowing his field of vision—almost like being gently confined.
I should practice styling it.
He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out the hairbrush he’d bought earlier, tugged his loosened pants up a bit, and began combing.
He gathered a handful of inky-black hair. It felt silky smooth between his fingers. Glancing sideways into the mirror, he caught the reflection of the girl—graceful, gentle…
And immediately, a tidal wave of embarrassment crashed over him.
What the hell am I doing?! Playing dress-up like some kind of… cross-dressing expert?!
He really was turning into one of those guys.
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Haha, fuck you. Served you right, bitch.
The reality is indeed bitter, if she was not forced to marry by her family, maybe Xiaohan would not be a bastard