Chapter 15: The Art of Sweetness: Su Mian’s Secret Training

Since a meeting with Xiao Moyuan was now set, Su Mian felt he had to enter a state of “combat readiness” as early as possible to minimize any unforeseen risks.

He had to flawlessly embody the role of “Sweetheart Marshmallow” on that potentially pivotal day. Even the slightest oversight could lead to a complete collapse.

Currently, two formidable obstacles loomed before him: his voice and his demeanor. While photos could be meticulously edited, dynamic speech and actions offered no such disguise.

He removed his thick-rimmed black glasses and clipped back his overly long bangs.

Taking a deep breath, he opened Bilibili and began searching for videos like “Sweet Girl Expression Management” and “Must-Have Flirting Tactics for Girls.”

Facing the mirror, he awkwardly started to mimic them—puffing out his cheeks, subtly biting his lip, winking, and even attempting to stick out his tongue.

In the mirror, the person with delicate features and fair skin indeed exuded a natural, endearing charm and cuteness when making these expressions.

However, the thought that *he* was the one making them sent a strong wave of shame, raising goosebumps all over his body.

‘No! For the greater good, I must go all out!’

He forced himself to immerse fully, practicing repeatedly throughout the entire morning.

Gradually, the “girl’s” expressions in the mirror became less stiff, and his eyes learned to convey an innocent, playful glint with every glance.

Watching the increasingly natural “performance” in the mirror, an absurd thought once again uncontrollably surfaced: ‘Could it be that, deep down, he’s truly more suited to be a girl?’

‘Bah! What nonsense!’ He shook his head vigorously, as if trying to shake off the dangerous idea. ‘This only proves my strong learning ability, my exceptional talent!’

The hurdle of facial expressions was initially overcome; next came the voice.

He found a voice modification tutorial and started with the most basic scale exercises.

Logging into Sweetheart Marshmallow’s account, he switched back and forth between two WeChat accounts, sending voice messages to compare and adjust.

“Ah… ah… ah…”

He practiced with intense focus, searching for that subtle vocal placement.

Perhaps because his natural voice was already somewhat neutral, he made rapid progress, quickly grasping the trick to producing that clear, yet soft and delicate “girl’s voice.”

Just as he was attempting a sweeter, more saccharine tone—

[Yuan: ???]

The sudden notification from his phone startled him, causing his hand to tremble. His soul nearly fled his body as he focused his gaze, his mind instantly going blank.

The voice message of him practicing scales, “Ah…,” had accidentally been sent to Xiao Moyuan’s chat!

It was over! Social death couldn’t be worse than this!

He fumbled frantically, trying to recall the message, but it had already been more than two minutes.

Xiao Moyuan’s next message followed swiftly.

[Yuan: Yelling at me like this first thing in the morning? Baby, do you like teasing me that much?]

Su Mian’s face flushed crimson, even his neck turning pink. Listening closely, he realized that due to the effort of climbing the scales, the voice message’s end notes carried a slight tremor and breathiness, which indeed sounded… suggestive.

However, amidst his shame, he suddenly realized: Xiao Moyuan hadn’t detected a male voice! His voice modification had been a success!

He forcefully suppressed his wildly beating heart, then, as if possessed, replied:

[Sweetheart Marshmallow: Gege~ Was it… nice to hear? (Shy kitten.jpg)]

As the message was sent, he felt an inexplicable tightness in his chest, his heart pounding unusually fast. A complex mix of excitement, shyness, and a hint of secret thrill surged through him.

He understood less and less why his body always reacted with such strange physiological responses every time he engaged in these ambiguous exchanges with Xiao Moyuan.

[Yuan: Nice to hear.]

[Yuan: However, I always feel your voice has more potential than this; it could be even more alluring.]

‘My heart tightened: Has he noticed I’m using a fake voice?’

However, Xiao Moyuan’s next message immediately transformed his tension into extreme shame.

[Yuan: Alright, the specifics, we’ll verify and adjust them slowly later.]

Su Mian: “!!!”

The other party had clearly emphasized a certain syllable.

‘This hooligan! A closet pervert! Cold and abstinent on the surface, but drives faster than a high-speed train privately!’

[Sweetheart Marshmallow: Gege, you’re so naughty! I’m not talking to you anymore, I’m going to eat! (｀へ′)]

He ended the conversation almost as if fleeing in panic.

Seeing that it was almost lunchtime and his roommates would soon return, he quickly put on his glasses and let down his bangs, re-enveloping himself in the unremarkable “Su Mian” shell.

The issues with expressions and voice were largely resolved, but the most challenging aspect, physical posture and mannerisms, remained a complete mystery.

How could male habits cultivated over a decade—like his striding gait, his somewhat casual sitting posture, and his unconscious small movements—be altered simply by watching a few videos?

‘That’s right!’ A flash of inspiration struck him. ‘I can observe Shen Zhixia!’

His childhood friend was the epitome of a sweet girl; a ready-made imitation target was right beside him!

For the afternoon’s specialized class, Su Mian deliberately arrived early and chose a back-row seat that allowed him to clearly observe Shen Zhixia without being easily noticed himself.

When the class bell rang, Xiao Moyuan and Shen Zhixia entered the classroom, one after the other.

Su Mian immediately entered “study mode,” his gaze fixed intently on Shen Zhixia.

He watched with incredible focus, even approaching it with the same seriousness he used for note-taking:

Walking: Her steps were light, her body swaying subtly with a unique sense of rhythm.

Sitting: She would subconsciously press her legs together, angling them slightly, her hands clasped on her lap, appearing very demure.

Tucking hair: When perplexed by a lecture point, she would unconsciously extend her index finger to gently tuck a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear, her pinky finger subtly curling into an elegant arc.

Cupping chin: While thinking, she would use the outer edge of her palm to support her chin, her fingertips naturally resting on her cheek, her gaze unfocused, exuding a clueless charm.

Su Mian watched, completely engrossed, his body unconsciously beginning to mimic her.

When the professor on the podium posed a difficult question, he, mimicking Shen Zhixia, instinctively cupped his chin with the outer edge of his right palm, his index and middle fingers gently resting on his cheek, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.

He was utterly immersed in his “learning,” completely unaware that a cold gaze had been lingering on him for quite some time.

Sitting in the front row to the side, Xiao Moyuan inadvertently looked back, catching Su Mian’s “chin-cupping contemplation” pose in its entirety.

His brows immediately furrowed in disgust.

This Su Mian, not only was he like a haunting fly in reality, but his behavior was also growing increasingly bizarre.

‘A grown man, imitating a girl’s small movements?’

‘Such affected behavior, coupled with his face half-hidden by his glasses, only made him seem like a ridiculous, disgusting imitation.’

Xiao Moyuan’s annoyance with Su Mian nearly reached its peak; he even felt that another glance would dirty his eyes.

He coldly withdrew his gaze, adding another label to his assessment of Su Mian: not only incompetent and an eyesore, but also possibly harboring some unmentionable peculiar habits.

However, the instant Xiao Moyuan turned his head away, an extremely subtle thought, one he himself had never deeply explored, rippled through his subconscious like a stone cast into a deep pool.

Su Mian’s chin-cupping gesture—the position of his fingers on his cheek and the slight pressure—had evoked a very vague, elusive sense of… familiarity.

This feeling was fleeting, immediately overwhelmed and banished by the strong sense of revulsion in his heart.

He did not know that this “weird” action, belonging to “Su Mian,” which he had scorned, would, at some earth-shattering moment in the future, perfectly align with the identical small gesture “Sweetheart Marshmallow” had unconsciously made in a selfie, stored in his phone’s photo album.

And at this moment, Su Mian was still secretly delighted by his successful “stolen skills,” utterly oblivious to the hunter’s eyes that had already linked him to a secret.