Chapter 13: The Lingering Dream and a Troubling Message

The morning sunlight pierced through a gap in the dormitory curtains, casting a narrow streak of light across Su Mian’s face.

He jolted upright in bed, his chest heaving violently, his forehead beaded with a fine sheen of cold sweat.

The absurd yet vivid dream still clung to him: the sight of his completely feminized self in the mirror, and Xiao Moyuan’s eyes, brimming with aggression and possessiveness.

“Impossible! It must have been a dream!”

As if seeking irrefutable proof, he abruptly looked down at his chest. Beneath his clothes, his figure remained that of a slender, flat-chested young man.

Yet, this wasn’t enough. A nameless panic propelled his hand to swiftly explore beneath him. Only when his fingertips confirmed that familiar presence did his wildly thumping heart finally settle, accompanied by a long, trembling exhalation.

“Thank goodness… thank goodness… everything’s still here,” he murmured to himself, attempting to soothe his frayed nerves. “It really was just a dream. It scared me to death…”

But the dream’s details had been far too lifelike.

The sensation of Xiao Moyuan’s fingertips, the unfamiliar image in the mirror of a figure with long hair cascading over swollen breasts, and the crushing helplessness of being utterly dominated—these fragmented scenes relentlessly haunted his mind.

His cheeks involuntarily began to flush, a crimson hue even staining his earlobes.

This was outrageous! How could he have dreamt such a thing?

‘Could it be something in my subconscious…?’

He dared not delve deeper, instead shaking his head vigorously as if to physically dislodge those alluring yet terrifying images from his mind.

However, when his gaze landed once more on the phone beside his pillow, its screen illuminated by his movement, clearly displaying an unread message, his recently calmed heartbeat once again surged uncontrollably.

[Yuan: Wife, good morning.]

These three words, like a key, instantly unlocked Pandora’s Box.

‘If everything was just a dream, then how could this message be explained?’

‘How could Xiao Moyuan possibly use such an endearment?’

‘What exactly happened after I blacked out last night?’

“Yo, Mianzi! You’re awake? You look pretty good,” a voice boomed as the dormitory door swung open with a bang.

Lu Yang strode in, radiating the unique energy of early morning, beads of sweat from his run still glistening on his tanned skin.

He carried several bags of breakfast, the inviting aroma of steamed buns instantly filling the small room.

Noticing Su Mian clutching his phone, his face a picture of bewildered confusion, Lu Yang couldn’t help but grin, revealing a flash of white teeth.

He took a few steps to Su Mian’s bed and placed a portion of steamed buns and soy milk on his nightstand.

“Come on, come on, Lu Ge’s treating! Eat it while it’s hot. You drank a fair bit yesterday; your stomach won’t handle it if you don’t eat something.”

Leaning closer, he lowered his voice, adding with a knowing, suggestive tone—one understood only in a male dorm—

“…Even if you plan to close the door later and, ah, ‘comfort’ our little brother Mianzi, you’ve got to replenish your ammunition first, right? Going into battle on an empty stomach is a military taboo!”

“Lu Laoda! You—you’re talking nonsense!” Su Mian’s face instantly flared crimson, like a shrimp tossed into boiling water. He scrambled out of bed, grabbing his breakfast, attempting to conceal his embarrassment with his actions.

“I—I would never do such a thing!”

He quickly took a bite of a bun, his words muffled as he tried to change the subject.

“Um… Lu Laoda, I drank too much yesterday, and I don’t remember anything after that… I didn’t say anything weird, or… do anything embarrassing, did I?”

He was filled with an unknown dread concerning the hours after he’d lost consciousness, fearing he might have committed some irreparable social faux pas while drunk.

Lu Yang picked up the soy milk, tilted his head back, and drained most of the bottle before wiping his mouth. He then pondered for a moment.

“Strange behavior? Not really. Your drinking etiquette is pretty good; you weren’t noisy or troublesome. It’s just…”

He paused, then pointed to Su Mian’s still-reddened eye corners.

“You were in the barbecue stall’s restroom for ages. When you came out, your eyes were as red as a little bunny’s—it was clear you’d been secretly crying.

Then, you didn’t say a word the whole way back, looking utterly dejected. As soon as you got to the dorm, you kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto your bed, fast asleep.”

‘I… I really cried?’

Su Mian’s chewing stopped, overwhelmed by an unspeakable mix of shame, embarrassment, and a hint of injustice.

‘I actually… actually cried my eyes red outside, just because Xiao Moyuan deleted me as a friend? And Lu Yang saw it?’

This was far more mortifying than any social death scenario he could have imagined.

With a complicated mix of emotions, he picked up his phone again. Driven by a feeling akin to self-torture, he tapped open the chat history with ‘Yuan’.

As he saw the meaningless, garbled letters he had sent, and beneath them, the glaring record of ‘Call duration: 00:18:04,’ Su Mian felt all the blood rush to his head.

His ears buzzed, and he froze in place as if under a paralysis spell, the bun in his hand nearly slipping to the floor.

‘It’s over! I actually made a voice call!’

‘My voice! My true voice! Has it been completely exposed?!’

Panic, like a cold tide, instantly engulfed his entire being.

But then, his remaining sliver of rationality began to operate with great difficulty.

‘No, that’s wrong… If my voice had really been exposed, with Xiao Moyuan’s personality—one that brooks no imperfections—how could he possibly have added me back?’

‘Not only did he add me back, but this morning he even sent me a message using… that mushy term, ‘wife’?’

‘This completely contradicted Xiao Moyuan’s usual cold and discerning persona.’

‘Could it be… that my voice changed due to drunkenness during the call last night?’

‘Or was I subconsciously still trying to speak in a high-pitched voice?’

All sorts of conjectures tangled into a chaotic mess in his mind.

With an extremely uneasy feeling, as if awaiting a final judgment, Su Mian’s fingers trembled as he typed out his message in the chat box.

Every word was carefully chosen, aiming to appear innocent and pitiful while cautiously probing for information.

[Sweetheart Marshmallow: Gege, good morning! (Sun emoji)]

[Sweetheart Marshmallow: My… my head hurts so much. I think I drank too much yesterday, and I can’t remember anything after that… (Crying cat emoji)]

[Sweetheart Marshmallow: Gege, did we… did we talk on the phone last night? Did I say anything strange to bother you?]

After the messages were sent, the interface fell silent, with no immediate reply.

This state of suspense was more tormenting than a direct rejection.

Su Mian could only force himself to continue nibbling on the now lukewarm bun, finding it utterly tasteless.

Soon, Lu Yang bid farewell to Qin Xuan, who had finished packing his bag, and they both left the dorm for their morning classes.

He was left alone in the empty dormitory, the lingering haze of his hangover still clouding his mind, a constant reminder of yesterday’s loss of control.

After finishing breakfast, Su Mian felt utterly out of sorts.

The summer heat, combined with having sweated last night without showering, left his skin feeling sticky and his hair greasy. For someone with a slight OCD, this was an unbearable torment.

He immediately rummaged out clean clothes and stepped into the bathroom. A cascade of warm water poured from the showerhead, washing over his skin and offering a measure of solace.

He squeezed out a generous dollop of shower gel, working it into rich, dense lather. Habitually, he began to hum an off-key tune, trying to dispel the gloom in his heart:

“I love to bathe, my skin feels great, mm-mm-mm, with a shower cap, I sing and sway… Ah—!”

His singing abruptly ceased at its most cheerful point, transforming into a short, pained cry.

Su Mian instantly stopped his movements, lowering his head in disbelief, his gaze fixed on his chest.

‘Just now, I was applying shower gel as usual, but why did it hurt so much?’

‘What’s going on?!’

He turned off the faucet, and the bathroom instantly fell silent, save for the sound of water droplets falling.

He moved closer to the mirror, wiping away the steam with his hand, and examined himself carefully under the light.

‘It looks a bit swollen… and a bit red…’

‘Last night… what exactly did I do? Did I hit something?’

He frowned, utterly perplexed, a subtle unease stirring within him.

Due to this inexplicable pain and swelling, he no longer dared to scrub casually as he usually would. His movements became exceptionally gentle and cautious, almost just dabbing the area with water.

He quickly dried his body, changed into clean clothes, and walked out of the bathroom. His hair was still dripping wet, but he didn’t even bother to grab the hairdryer.

It was then that the previously dark screen of his phone on the desk suddenly lit up, displaying a preview of a new message—

[Yuan: Awake?]

Those two words alone made Su Mian’s heart leap. He practically lunged to the desk, eagerly unlocking his phone and tapping open the pink chat bubble, completely forgetting about the mysterious anomaly on his chest.