Chapter 4: Turning Someone Gay

Ji Pei left the A University campus in a daze, immediately opening her phone to send a message to Ji Fan.

Ji Pei: [Your philosophy elective is failed. I’ll bring your textbook back. Remember to retake it next year.]

After sending the message, Ji Pei got into her car and sat in the driver’s seat, her face clouded with gloom as if someone owed her millions.

Ji Fan didn’t reply, probably not checking her phone.

Ji Pei opened the messaging app and saw messages from Dongri.

Dongri: [You’re still in school?]

Dongri: [University?]

With one hand on the steering wheel, Ji Pei played the voice message Dongri sent. The soft, gentle voice, like flowing water, sent shivers through her body.

Was this really Dongri’s voice?

Ji Pei had initially imagined some shady guy using a voice changer to pretend to be a woman, but hearing this voice, all her defenses melted away.

How could such a beautiful voice be faked with a voice changer?

She’d clearly misjudged Dongri.

Ji Pei typed a reply.

Jifeng: [Your voice is so nice.]

She could’ve listened to it all afternoon, stuffing her phone into the gap of the driver’s seat, but she had to drive home now.

She’d checked her home security camera earlier—her two cats and one dog had knocked over their food and water bowls, meowing provocatively at the camera.

Her house was a mess, and she needed to get back before things got worse.

Her phone chimed with WeChat notifications a few times, but Ji Pei, focused on driving, didn’t check it. No phone call meant it wasn’t urgent.

She drove to a flower shop and parked in a nearby spot.

***

Ji Pei made a habit of buying fresh flowers randomly each day.

The shop’s owner was her college roommate, so Ji Pei didn’t need to pre-order. Every afternoon at 3 p.m., she’d swing by to pick up flowers.

Ye Wenzhu sat on a small stool, an ice pop in her mouth. “Why’re you so late today?”

Ji Pei took a bunch of freesias from the shop assistant.

“Had to go back to school for something. You wouldn’t believe it—the cafeteria’s expanded again, just waiting for our graduating class to leave.”

Ye Wenzhu opened WeChat on her phone, showing Ji Pei the university class group chat.

“Xie Zhen’s been @-ing you in the group, wants you to come to next month’s reunion. She’s tagged you a few times. What’re you gonna do?”

Ji Pei held the freesias, their buds brushing her face, cool to the touch.

“What to do? Nothing.”

Ye Wenzhu’s expression grew serious.

“I know you don’t want to go, but she didn’t message you privately—she’s @-ing you in the group on purpose to show off.”

Seeing Ji Pei’s indifferent look, Ye Wenzhu sighed.

“I know she’s up to no good. Back in school, she was all over you. I saw it all.”

Ye Wenzhu trimmed the base of a rose with scissors, not looking up.

“You moved out of the dorm in the end because of her.”

“Wenzhu, that was ages ago. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Ji Pei stroked the pink flower buds, her lips curving slightly.

“I’ve got someone now. She’s gentle, and her voice is amazing.”

“What? You’ve got a partner? Guy or girl? What do they do? Are they rich?”

Ji Pei frowned slightly.

“Why’re you so excited? Checking their ID or something?”

“I’m worried about you!”

Ye Wenzhu was shocked. Back in the art department, with so many beautiful girls, Ji Pei stood out among thousands. Her skin was luminous in ID photos or school records, her features sharp and perfect, like an AI-generated image.

Ye Wenzhu recalled the day she moved into the dorm. Ji Pei was sitting cross-legged on a chair, playing a game. A ray of light filtered through her fluffy black hair, faintly illuminating the fine fuzz on her cheek.

Xie Zhen had walked in at that moment, her bed right next to Ji Pei’s.

Ye Wenzhu suspected that was when Xie Zhen started having improper thoughts about Ji Pei.

“She’s a woman.”

Ji Pei was a bit shy, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks.

“We’re still in an online relationship. Haven’t met in person yet.”

“What did you say?”

“Say that again?”

Ye Wenzhu’s jaw practically hit the floor.

Her eyes locked onto Ji Pei’s elegant, high-bridged nose as she shot up from her bamboo chair.

“With a face like that, you’re doing online dating? You’d better tell me you’re joking!”

“I’m not joking. It’s real.”

Ji Pei licked her dry lips and sat on the bamboo chair Ye Wenzhu had vacated, still holding the flowers.

“You told me to download that messaging app to boost your friend’s popularity, remember? That’s where I met her.”

“Wait!”

Ye Wenzhu suddenly realized something she’d overlooked, nearly crushing the rosebud in her hand.

“You’re dating a woman?!”

“You’re actually dating a woman!”

Ye Wenzhu nearly jumped three feet in the air.

“I knew it—that jerk Xie Zhen turned you gay! I’m going to that reunion next month and giving her a piece of my mind!”

“Peace brings prosperity, peace brings prosperity.”

Ji Pei pointed at the gilded shop sign above.

“I’ll reply in the group and say I’m going.”

Ye Wenzhu yanked Ji Pei up.

“Why would you go? She booked a private bar room—probably planning to slip you something and make a move!”

Ji Pei hesitated.

“I want… to meet my girlfriend in person and bring her along.”

Ye Wenzhu’s eyes lit up.

“Why didn’t I think of that? You should make out with your girlfriend right in front of her—kiss her senseless and make her jealous!”

Ji Pei opened the group chat and replied with a simple

“Got it.”

She’d long since deleted Xie Zhen as a contact.

***

Before leaving, Ye Wenzhu handed Ji Pei a poorly trimmed bunch of roses, saying they were free.

Ji Pei held the mangled roses, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

Back in her car, she found a good angle, snapped a photo of herself holding lilies, and sent it to Dongri.

Before she could type a message, Dongri sent one first.

Dongri: [Why are there roses in the car? Who gave them to you?]

Ji Pei zoomed in on the photo and realized she’d accidentally included a corner of the roses on the passenger seat.

But they were just roses.

Jifeng: [A friend gave them to me.]

After sending the message, she realized it sounded ambiguous and tried to recall it, but it was too late. The message showed “read.”

Jifeng: [Darling, don’t misunderstand. She owns a flower shop. I buy flowers there often, and these are defective ones she gave me today.]

Ji Pei quickly grabbed the red roses, snapped photos of their unevenly cut stems, and sent them to Dongri.

Jifeng: [See? They’re really messed up from her trimming.]

Dongri wasn’t unreasonable, but sometimes Ji Pei felt she acted like a clingy kid, fixating on little things.

Case in point, Dongri’s next message:

Dongri: [She owns a flower shop and knows what red roses mean. Why’d she give them to you?]

Ji Pei had asked Dongri’s age before. She hadn’t given an exact number, only mentioning it started with a three.

Reading this message, Ji Pei started doubting herself.

Was her girlfriend really a woman in her thirties? Could she be a middle schooler pulling a prank?

Ji Pei stopped her wild thoughts.

She decided to find a good opportunity to bring up meeting in person. She had to see who Dongri really was.

Jifeng: [It’s true. We’re college roommates, and we get along well.]

Dongri: [Fine, I’ll believe you this time. But I haven’t seen enough of that dress from last time.]

Ji Pei: “…”

She knew Dongri was up to no good. Sometimes she’d ask for photos or subtly send… *those* kinds of things.

To change the subject, Ji Pei recounted the day’s events.

Jifeng: [I went to class for my sister today, and the professor caught me. Not only did she deduct points, but I failed the course and have to retake it. Am I not the unluckiest person ever?]

Dongri’s status showed “typing,” and after a moment, Ji Pei got a reply.

Dongri: [You went to class for your sister? What was she doing?]

Ji Pei typed furiously, her fingers tapping the screen loudly, venting her frustration.

Jifeng: [She went to meet her partner and begged me to go to class for her, offering conditions I couldn’t refuse. But I’m not in acting school!]

Jifeng: [One look from that professor, and I knew I was done for. She saw right through me.]

Dongri replied quickly.

Dongri: [What happened next?]

Ji Pei bit her lip, typing frantically.

Jifeng: [Failed the course. Have to retake it.]

The more she typed, the angrier she got, her fingers hitting the keyboard with increasing rhythm.

Jifeng: [It’s just a stupid elective, and it’s such a hassle. Good thing I never took her class in college.]

Jifeng: [This professor looks all serious, but she’s so strict. She even took my phone, saying no phones in her class.]

Jifeng: [I’ve never met anyone so arrogant in four years of college. It’s not like she owns the school. She acts like she’s bigger than the dean.]

After firing off a string of messages, Ji Pei finally vented her frustration.

Dongri hadn’t replied yet, so Ji Pei assumed she was reading the barrage of texts. She sent one more.

Jifeng: [Right?]

The message instantly showed “read,” and Dongri’s reply came through. Ji Pei’s eyes widened as she read it.

Dongri: [No need to wear a skirt tonight.]

Ji Pei: “?”

Dongri: [I want a selfie. No clothes.]

Ji Pei: “!”