Chapter 40: The Masked Dinner

The absurd conjecture that had taken root in Xiao Moyuan’s mind now sharpened into undeniable clarity.

The “girl” before him, clad in a skirt, was almost certainly Su Mian—the very person who had sought him out repeatedly, stirring up trouble.

The realization struck him as unbelievable, yet upon closer examination, numerous details seemed to align perfectly.

He recalled Su Mian’s usual disheveled appearance: the overgrown bangs and the unfashionable black-rimmed glasses that had all but obscured his entire face.

‘Could it be… that was a disguise all along?’

‘A deliberate effort to conceal this remarkably striking face?’

He simply could not fathom why someone blessed with such advantageous natural attributes would choose to deliberately mask them.

In this moment, even Xiao Moyuan found himself perplexed. Was the gloomy, timid “Su Mian” the authentic persona, or was the radiant and captivating “Sweetheart Marshmallow” before him the true self?

Even the very concept of gender seemed to blur around them.

Su Mian, it appeared, harbored a multitude of secrets.

This ignited a potent desire within Xiao Moyuan to delve deeper, to peel back these layers of pretense one by one, and discover what intriguing essence lay beneath.

To be fair, he genuinely admired this face, along with the straight, slender legs encased in black stockings.

Meanwhile, Su Mian’s heart was gripped by an intense fear.

‘He recognized me?’

‘Even like this, he could still tell?’

‘I look in the mirror and barely recognize myself; are his eyes truly that perceptive?’

‘Where did I slip up?’

Su Mian understood that if this tense silence persisted, exposure was merely a matter of time.

His current demeanor diverged too greatly from the enthusiastic and daring “Sweetheart Marshmallow” persona he projected online.

If he failed to steel himself and push through with the act now, all his prior efforts would undoubtedly be for naught.

Not only would he fail to exact his revenge on Xiao Moyuan, but he would also definitively lose Shen Zhixia.

At this thought, a surge of do-or-die courage abruptly welled within him.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to lift his head and, for the first time, actively meet Xiao Moyuan’s gaze. He painstakingly conjured an expression he had practiced countless times—one tinged with bewilderment and innocence—then pointed to himself, tilted his head slightly, and asked in a soft, feigned voice:

“I… do I really look that much like Gege’s friend?”

This sudden shift in expression, coupled with the perfectly executed naive and adorable posture, caused Xiao Moyuan to pause for a moment.

Yet, he swiftly regained his composure, a faint, ambiguous smile curving his lips. “Now, you don’t seem to resemble them at all.”

He paused, his gaze drifting across Su Mian’s face. “The way you are now, you bear a striking resemblance to that little chatterbox from online.”

Then, with a clear note of playful mockery, he shifted his tone, resuming his pressure. “However, shouldn’t your form of address change? ‘Wifey’?”

Su Mian’s face instantly flushed crimson, and this time, it wasn’t entirely an act; he genuinely felt a profound sense of shame.

He lowered his head bashfully, his voice barely a whisper, “Gege… I… I’m a little too shy to say it out loud…”

Seeing this, Xiao Moyuan merely chuckled, opting not to press the matter further.

Just then, the waiter began serving their meal.

Exquisitely plated dishes were presented to the table one after another. Su Mian watched them, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

Pan-fried tofu, golden coin eggs, chili scrambled eggs, braised pork with bean curd sticks… Astonishingly, most of these were his favorite foods, particularly soy and egg-based dishes.

Naturally, the table also featured opulent dishes such as king crab and shark fin, clearly signaling their exorbitant price.

The thought of the astronomical, undisclosed sum made Su Mian’s recently piqued appetite recede instantly, and his hand, clutching the chopsticks, wavered with hesitation.

“Um… Gege, you ordered far too much, didn’t you?” he whispered. “Actually… I’m not really that hungry…”

Xiao Moyuan’s expression remained perfectly natural. “It’s quite alright. After all, you’re my ‘date,’ aren’t you? It’s our first meeting, and since I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer, I simply ordered a selection of everything.”

Soon after, the beverages arrived: a pitcher of rich, creamy yogurt and a bottle of red wine that exuded an air of considerable expense.

“The yogurt here is quite good,” Xiao Moyuan remarked, then turned his gaze to Su Mian. “You probably don’t drink alcohol, do you?”

Su Mian had initially intended to drink the yogurt, but a sudden thought struck him: perhaps a little alcohol might bolster his courage, allowing him to play his role more convincingly.

He mustered his courage. “I… I’d also like to have just a little with Gege…”

Hearing this, the attendant promptly poured red wine for Su Mian.

“This wine has quite a lingering kick,” Xiao Moyuan cautioned. “Drink it slowly.”

Su Mian, however, dismissed the warning inwardly, believing a small glass would be inconsequential.

He lifted his glass, proposing, “Gege, shall we make a toast?”

With his “date” initiating the toast, Xiao Moyuan naturally had no reason to decline.

Their glasses met with a soft clink. To bolster his courage, Su Mian mimicked a scene from television, tilting his head back and downing the entire small glass of red wine in one go.

Xiao Moyuan watched, a soft laugh escaping him. “Drink slowly. Red wine is meant to be savored; you’ll get tipsy quickly like that.”

Su Mian, unfamiliar with the nuances of wine tasting, simply found the flavor acceptable.

After a few gulps, a pleasant warmth spread from his stomach, his body growing faintly flushed, and his taut nerves undeniably eased.

Xiao Moyuan gracefully served him some dishes, his movements effortlessly elegant.

Su Mian, considering it a polite gesture and an excellent opportunity to “deepen their connection,” clumsily reciprocated by serving Xiao Moyuan some food.

“Gege, try this; it’s delicious,” he said, striving to make his voice sound even sweeter.

Whenever embarrassment threatened to overwhelm him or his act faltered, he would seize an opportunity to clink glasses with Xiao Moyuan, relying on the alcohol to invigorate his spirit.

He considered his alcohol tolerance to be quite good, and a mischievous idea even began to form in his mind: if he could get Xiao Moyuan thoroughly inebriated and capture some of his lesser-known, ‘unflattering’ moments, it might serve as valuable leverage in the future.

However, while his aspirations were grand, reality proved starkly different.

After another two or three glasses, Su Mian began to feel lightheaded and dizzy, his body swaying slightly in the chair, his entire face, even the tips of his ears, flushed a deep crimson.

Observing Su Mian’s appearance, Xiao Moyuan understood immediately: he was drunk. He softened his tone. “If you keep drinking like this, you truly won’t be able to make it back.”

Su Mian struggled to sit upright, stubbornly insisting, “I’m, I’m fine! I can go back!” He remained utterly oblivious that his voice, at this moment, was cloyingly sweet and sticky, even more delicate than his usual deliberate disguise.

Xiao Moyuan gazed at Su Mian’s hazy eyes, which struggled to feign sobriety, finding the sight both amusing and, in an inexplicable way… endearing?

A subtle smile, one he himself hadn’t even registered, unconsciously graced his face. “Are you full?”

Su Mian nodded vigorously, his movement slightly exaggerated. “I’m stuffed!”

“Shall I take you back then?” Xiao Moyuan asked, testing the waters.

Su Mian tilted his head, his response delayed by half a beat. “Go back where?”

“To your school, of course.”

‘School? N University?’ The last vestiges of his sobriety made Su Mian shake his head vehemently. “No! I don’t want to go back! I still want to stay with Gege…”

As he spoke, he actually swayed precariously to his feet, then clumsily spun a small circle before Xiao Moyuan, the hem of his skirt flaring out in a delicate arc.

He gazed at Xiao Moyuan with hazy eyes, then, with a drunken lilt, asked, “Gege, do I look pretty?”

Xiao Moyuan was now entirely convinced: Su Mian was truly drunk.

“Very pretty,” he replied, humoring him.

“This is a little skirt I specially chose for Gege!” Su Mian, as if emboldened, leaned forward and grabbed Xiao Moyuan’s hand. “Feel it, isn’t the fabric of this skirt wonderfully soft?”

‘Is this deliberate?’

‘Or is it genuinely intentional?’

‘So bold, after just a few drinks?’

Under normal circumstances, if someone were to touch him so suddenly, Xiao Moyuan would instantly recoil.

Yet, at this moment, as he looked at the slightly warm, small hand gripping his own, he found himself not immediately pulling away, but allowing the other to guide him.

His hand was led to touch the edge of the soft skirt, and through the thin fabric and stockings, he could even faintly discern the warmth and delicate texture of the skin beneath.

‘This “skirt”… the feel is indeed quite pleasant.’

Xiao Moyuan remained silent for a few seconds. Finally, in his uniquely calm, unreadable tone, he offered a five-word assessment:

“The texture is quite nice.”