Chapter 43: An Unexpected Revelation

The silence in the office didn’t last three seconds before it was shattered by Ji Haitang’s helpless voice: “Jiaojiao, what nonsense are you spouting now?”

She moved away from Su Muxue, her gaze landing on Luo Xiaoyun, who was curled up on the sofa with her face practically on fire. There was obvious amusement hidden in Ji Haitang’s eyes—Junior Xiaoyun was too easy to tease.

Shen Jiaojiao turned back and blinked her big, round eyes at Ji Haitang, her voice soft and sly: “I’m not talking nonsense… I’m just concerned about Susu’s love life, that’s all~”

Luo Xiaoyun finally managed to shake off some of her embarrassment. She cleared her throat, trying to change the subject: “Senior Shen, why are you here?”

Shen Jiaojiao was about to answer, but Ji Haitang spoke first, her voice calm and professional: “I’m the head of the Ministry of Arts and Culture. I’m responsible for the art festival. Today I came to report the preparations to Muxue.”

As she spoke, she pulled a USB drive from her document folder and handed it to Su Muxue: “I’ve already sent the list of participants and the first draft of the programs to your email.

The USB drive is a backup. It’s easier if you want to browse it now without logging into your email.”

Su Muxue took the drive and plugged it into her computer. A folder popped up on the screen. She clicked on the Excel file labeled “Art Festival Summary,” which was neatly organized by college, major, and class. Each entry listed the type of performance and the participants—clear at a glance.

The room fell silent again, broken only by the click of the mouse and the soft tapping of the keyboard. Su Muxue’s eyes slowly scanned the screen, occasionally pausing, her brows furrowing as if she were pondering something.

Luo Xiaoyun secretly let out a sigh of relief, finally escaping Shen Jiaojiao’s teasing gaze for a moment. She picked up her phone, the screen bright but her eyes not reading a single word.

Her peripheral vision kept drifting toward the desk—Su Muxue’s profile was really beautiful when she was focused on the screen.

Just five minutes later, Su Muxue’s mouse suddenly stopped. Her fingers didn’t move.

Then she took a soft breath—not a dramatic gasp, but the kind of involuntary reaction when seeing something unexpected and hard to believe.

Almost at the same time, Ji Haitang leaned over to take a look. Her eyes widened slightly, and she read the words on the screen aloud, her tone filled with surprised incredulity: “Female category… Luo Xiaoyun? The remark says… cross-dressing?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, both pairs of eyes snapped toward Luo Xiaoyun on the sofa.

Su Muxue’s eyes held surprise and a hint of amusement she couldn’t hide; Ji Haitang’s were full of confusion. Feeling their gazes on her, Luo Xiaoyun’s heart, which had just calmed down, started racing again.

She froze on the sofa, the phone in her hand almost slipping onto her lap—luckily, she caught it in time.

“Xiaoyun,” Su Muxue’s voice rang out, her tone strange—not exactly surprised, more like she’d stumbled upon an interesting secret, carrying a hint of laughter. “Your registration form says you’re going to cross-dress for the art festival?”

Luo Xiaoyun’s face turned even redder than when Shen Jiaojiao had teased her, the tips of her ears flushing pink. She opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked; she couldn’t make a sound for a long moment.

All she could do was nod dumbly—she couldn’t very well say the system had forced her, right?

Shen Jiaojiao immediately leaned in, her voice bursting with eagerness: “Cross-dressing? Junior Xiaoyun, you’re going to wear a skirt on stage? Really? You’re not kidding us, are you?”

She fired off questions rapid-fire, her speed leaving Luo Xiaoyun no chance to interject:

“So what are you going to perform? Singing or dancing?! If you need makeup or help choosing a skirt, you must come to me! I know a few sisters who do cosplay; they’re amazing at feminine makeup, and they can help you pick a soft, cute skirt. I want to start picking one for you right now!”

Luo Xiaoyun’s head spun from the barrage. She waved her hands frantically, her voice stammering: “N-no need, Senior… I-I haven’t even decided yet…”

“Not decided yet?” Shen Jiaojiao pursed her lips, her eagerness even more pronounced, but her voice remained soft and sweet.

“But there’s only a little over a week until the art festival. You need to finalize soon~ But don’t worry, Junior, we’ll help you get it done. I can’t wait to see you in women’s clothing. You’ll look amazing!”

After saying that, she blinked and gently poked Luo Xiaoyun’s arm: “You have such delicate features, and your skin is so fair and smooth. You’ll definitely look great in women’s clothes~”

By now, Su Muxue had gotten over her initial surprise. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she stood up, walked around the desk, and slowly approached the sofa.

She looked down at Luo Xiaoyun, her usually gentle eyes now gleaming with a strange light—like she’d found some rare trinket that looked better and better the more she saw it.

“Xiaoyun,” she said, crouching down to meet Luo Xiaoyun’s eyes, her voice very soft but full of amusement, “I really didn’t expect you’d be willing to go on stage in women’s clothing.”

“I’m not willing; I’m forced…” Luo Xiaoyun hung her head, her voice small and muffled as she recounted what had happened in her class.

The more she spoke, the quieter her voice became, until it was almost inaudible. Her head dropped lower, as if she wanted to find a crack in the floor to crawl into.

“Forced?” Su Muxue raised an eyebrow, then sat down beside Luo Xiaoyun, turning to face her, a teasing tone in her voice.

“But I get the feeling you’re not completely unwilling. When you mentioned it earlier, your ears turned red—more like you were shy than angry.”

Her gaze was too sharp, too direct. Luo Xiaoyun instinctively wanted to look away, but Su Muxue gently pressed her shoulder—the pressure light, as if afraid of hurting her, yet carrying a hint of insistence.

Su Muxue leaned in closer. Her warm breath brushed against Luo Xiaoyun’s ear, her voice dropping even lower, laced with a hint of allure: “Actually… I kind of want to see what you look like in women’s clothing too. I bet you’ll be… very cute.”

The last three words she uttered softly, as if savoring them. They landed on Luo Xiaoyun’s ears like an electric current, zipping through her entire body.

Luo Xiaoyun shuddered, stiffening completely, even forgetting to breathe. Her cheeks were hot enough to fry an egg.

“Right, right!” Shen Jiaojiao clapped her hands excitedly. “Susu wants to see too, right? I told you, with Junior Xiaoyun’s face, skin, and figure, cross-dressing would be absolutely seamless! She might even be prettier than many girls!”

Ji Haitang also walked over, her voice calm but carrying a professional assessment—not to make things difficult, but from the perspective of the Arts Ministry:

“From a stage effect standpoint, cross-dressing is indeed creative and has buzz potential. It can stand out. But Luo Xiaoyun, have you really not decided what to perform? If you need help, the Arts Ministry can coordinate music, venue, or even find a vocal coach.”

Luo Xiaoyun was surrounded by the three of them: on her left, Su Muxue with a teasing smile; on her right, the excited Shen Jiaojiao; in front, the serious Ji Haitang.

She felt like a little mouse cornered by cats, with no escape. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down and stammered, “I-I’m thinking of singing a song… b-but I haven’t decided on the specific song yet…”

“Singing?” Su Muxue’s eyes lit up, her tone full of surprise. “How come I’ve never heard you say you can sing?”

Luo Xiaoyun’s heart skipped a beat. Her talent came from the system, and system products were always top-notch. She could only avert her eyes and say evasively, “I-I only know a little… It should be decent.”

“How could it be just ‘decent’~” Shen Jiaojiao gently tugged on Luo Xiaoyun’s arm, shaking it.

“Your voice is clear and bright. With just a couple of days of practice, it’ll sound amazing! Let’s pick out the outfit right now, okay? I can’t wait!

Susu, what style do you think Junior Xiaoyun would suit? A sweet puffy dress? Or a soft, school-style pleated skirt?” As she spoke, she immediately pulled out her phone and started scrolling through it frantically.

The more she looked, the more serious she became, muttering under her breath, “This white one is pretty too. That pink one is soft and cute… Junior would look good in anything~”

But Su Muxue didn’t respond right away. Her gaze lingered on Luo Xiaoyun’s face, her eyes soft, as if she were imagining what she’d look like in women’s clothing—delicate features, fair skin, in a light-colored dress. It would probably be very gentle.

After a few seconds, she finally spoke, her voice carrying an indescribable depth and a touch of tenderness: “No rush. We’ve got over a week. We can prepare slowly, practice the song slowly, pick out the outfit slowly.”

She paused, then reached out and gently ruffled Luo Xiaoyun’s hair, the motion natural and intimate. The corners of her lips curved into a gentle smile:

“But Xiaoyun, since you’ve agreed to do this, we have to do it well, okay? Don’t be afraid. I’ll be with you every step of the way, helping you practice the song and choose the outfit. I won’t let you embarrass yourself.”

As she finished speaking, her fingertips inadvertently brushed against Luo Xiaoyun’s burning cheek. The amusement in her eyes deepened, and she added softly,

“Actually, I was shopping last time and saw a little white dress with a bow on the collar. I thought it would look great on you. I didn’t think much of it then—but now that we’re picking out women’s clothing for you, I think that one would be just right. It’s not too flashy, suits your delicate features, and wouldn’t look out of place on stage.”

Luo Xiaoyun abruptly looked up, her eyes locking onto Su Muxue’s face. Her voice, stripped of embarrassment, now carried a hint of knowing certainty: “Senior… did you already want to see me in women’s clothing before?”

Caught out, Su Muxue’s smile widened, with no trace of concealment or evasion: “You saw through me? Yes, I am looking forward to it. I really want to see what you look like in women’s clothes.”

Luo Xiaoyun quickly averted her gaze, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes, muttering so softly it was barely audible: “J-just this once… never again.”

Watching her shy demeanor, Su Muxue couldn’t help but curl her lips, her voice filled with even more laughter as she deliberately teased, “Oh? Just this once? What, do you want to do it more often? If you’re willing, it’s not impossible.”

Luo Xiaoyun’s cheeks burned even hotter. She hurriedly looked up and shot her a glare: “W-who wants to do it more often… Don’t talk nonsense!”

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