Chapter 23: Cross-Dressing Cover Blown — His Own Brother Is a Freak With a Cross-Dressing Fetish…
Fang Xiaolin entered the room carrying a handbag, her pale purple skirt swaying gently as she gracefully took her seat.
She naturally passed a cup of milk tea to the person beside her, her voice sweet. “I bought an extra one, do you want it?”
Jiang Yan sat quietly in the halo of the afternoon light, his skin appearing even paler, exuding a gloomy, heavy aura. The tip of the pen in his hand paused on the scratch paper, allowing a small ink stain to spread, vaguely forming the character “Yu.”
He pressed his lips together indifferently, a flash of displeasure at being disturbed crossing his face.
Zhou Shu leaned back with a wicked grin. “He doesn’t drink that stuff mixed with saccharine, didn’t you know?”
His tone sounded like he was teasing: You pay so much attention to him, yet you don’t even know what he likes?
“Is… is that so?” Fang Xiaolin’s hand unconsciously tightened, squeezing the plastic cup until it made a soft crunching sound.
Was her crush… that obvious?
“Scoop him two ladles of gutter oil, and I guarantee he’ll eat it with more gusto than anyone.”
Fang Xiaolin heard the mockery in his voice and forced a faint smile.
“Xiaolin, the counselor is looking for you!”
A shout from the corridor timely rescued her from the awkwardness. She put down the milk tea and left in a hurry, the cup wobbling on the edge of the desk, nearly tipping over. Zhou Shu watched her retreating figure as she jogged away and said, idle to the point of pain, “She’s got her eyes on you.”
Jiang Yan focused on writing the final character, “Nian,” without even lifting his eyelids. “So?”
Zhou Shu shrugged, his peripheral vision sweeping over the name written stroke by stroke. “It’s rare that even a pervert like you has someone thinking about them. How precious.”
Jiang Yan ignored him. He packed his schoolbag and stood up. The wind blowing in curled the broken hair on his forehead, revealing his pale temples.
The birds in the sky suddenly grew dense. Passing the second-floor terrace, Jiang Yan stopped in his tracks. By the flower beds downstairs, three figures were bustling about. A boy was holding a camera taking candid shots, while a girl was pinning a hairclip onto the “female model’s” head. His gaze locked firmly onto that purple figure.
Jiang Yunian’s wig was lifted by the wind, revealing a small patch of skin on the back of his neck. Jiang Yan stared at that patch of whiteness, his consciousness seemingly pulled away. He was oblivious to the sounds of movement around him; his eyes were filled only with that swaying purple in the sunlight.
“It’s a bit cold today.” Hao Meng tossed him a jacket. “Put it on quickly.”
“Wait.” He Qing stepped back two paces. “Let’s get one more shot.”
Jiang Yunian gently lifted the hem of the skirt. The flying strands of hair swept across his cheek; his beauty blurred the lines between male and female. The base of his ear, attacked by the chill, was the same shade of red as the wrist Jiang Yan had pinched last night.
While packing up the equipment, Jiang Yunian sat on a wooden stool rubbing his ankle—probably blistered by the high heels. As if sensing something, he suddenly looked up and cast a glance toward the second floor. Jiang Yan quickly turned sideways, the shadows perfectly concealing half his face.
Only when the people had walked far away did Jiang Yan step out from the darkness. His gaze clung to that retreating back, missing nothing, obsessive and deep.
By the window opposite the terrace, Fang Xiaolin watched this scene stiffly. She knew all too well what Jiang Yan’s look at that “girl” meant.
Jiang Yan walked slowly downstairs and sat on the wooden stool Jiang Yunian had occupied. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, sprinkling spots of light on the top of his head. He extended a fingertip, gently caressing the surface of the stool, nostalgically absorbing the residual body warmth.
Fang Xiaolin was stunned, a dense, sour numbness rising in her heart.
When that girl turned around, her profile looked somewhat familiar, though she couldn’t place it. What startled her was Jiang Yan’s look—focused to the point of paranoia.
“So he has someone he secretly crushes on too…” she murmured.
Fang Xiaolin’s chest felt stuffy, making it hard to breathe. The narrow office, the counselor’s questions, the enthusiasm of the class monitors—none of it entered her ears, and no one noticed her momentary abnormality in this small corner.
Her eyelashes gradually lowered, hiding the disappointment in her eyes. When she looked up again, the person downstairs had already stood up. His slender fingers picked up a single, long strand of synthetic wig hair from the stool surface, taking with it a faint scent of wood and leaves.
That man who always sat quietly in the corner of the classroom, unsurprised and unmoved by anything—at this moment, his back hid something hotter than the sunlight.
It turned out he wasn’t without worldly desires; he just wouldn’t make an uproar for her.
Jiang Yunian held up his skirt hem, his high heels clicking clumsily as he crept like a guilty little thief to the entrance of the men’s restroom. He looked left and right to confirm no one was there before slipping inside.
Wearing a dress was inconvenient. He took off the jacket and stuffed it into his backpack, carefully holding the skirt hem as he entered the stall to avoid getting it dirty.
Just as he finished tidying up, the phone on the shelf rang. After ringing once, it rang again. He hurriedly slung his backpack over his shoulder and answered while walking to the sink, the high heels making sharp sounds against the floor.
“Hello…”
It was Jiang Yan calling. He had just finished class and was asking where he was. Jiang Yunian placed the phone on the sink and pressed the hand soap dispenser; the sound of rushing water echoed.
“In the teaching building.”
Jiang Yunian washed his hands while talking to him, the feeling of unease from just entering gradually forgotten.
After the water stopped, a low voice came from the other end of the phone.
“I saw a girl today. She looked very good in a purple dress.”
Jiang Yunian’s hand-wiping motion paused. “Who? A classmate?”
Jiang Yan didn’t answer directly, his tone devoid of any discernible questioning. “I remember Ge also likes wearing skirts.”
Jiang Yunian’s heart sank, feeling somewhat guilty. “…Mn.”
Jiang Yan was silent for two seconds, then said, “But I don’t want Ge wearing them out for others to see.”
“Why?”
Jiang Yunian’s voice tightened. Did he think it was shameful?
His own brother is a freak with a cross-dressing fetish.
The line suddenly went silent. Jiang Yunian felt a small pinch in his heart. He tentatively repeated himself, but there was still no response. The silence left him at a loss, and an impulse surged in his chest. “If…”
“I’m saying if… if the person you saw was… me?”
“…”
After a long wait, Jiang Yunian looked down in confusion, only to find the phone had long since shut down due to low battery.
He stared at the black screen, unsure whether to feel lucky or disappointed. His brain was churned into a mess by Jiang Yan’s words.
Jiang Yan seemed to truly resist men cross-dressing… He said it looked good with his mouth, but in his heart, did he find him disgusting?
With a complicated mood and drooping head, he put away the phone and left the restroom. Just as he stepped out of the toilet, a pair of white shoes stopped in front of him.
Jiang Yunian lowered his lashes and naturally turned sideways to make way, praying the other party hadn’t noticed he came out of the men’s room.
At the moment they brushed past each other, an unabashed gaze landed on him. Jiang Yunian didn’t dare make eye contact and calmly walked outward.
“Wait.”
His footsteps stalled. This voice was so familiar.
“You… why did you come out of the men’s restroom?”
The gentle female voice carried obvious astonishment.
Done for! Discovered…
Jiang Yunian steeled himself and turned around, wanting to say he went to the wrong one. But as soon as he looked up, he froze. He saw the other person was also wearing a purple dress, and the words stuck in his throat.
“How is it you?” The girl’s eyes widened.
Jiang Yunian was equally shocked. A social death scene happening twice over.
Afraid of being recognized, he had put on makeup for the shoot as usual today. He didn’t expect to be seen through at a glance, and by the same person!
Fang Xiaolin took a step forward, her scrutinizing look a bit presumptuous. After scanning him from head to toe, the shock hadn’t faded. “…You’re a girl?”
“No.” She immediately denied it, regaining her reason. “You’re a man!”
Jiang Yunian really wasn’t a good actor; he was more suited to being an honest, ordinary person.
He pursed his lips, considering it a tacit admission. At this moment, his heart gradually turned cold; silence was his last disguise. Fortunately, the other party didn’t know him, so he didn’t have to fear being posted on the forum for people to gossip about.
But immediately after, even that last bit of luck vanished.
“The one who dropped the breast patch that day was… you, right?”
“…”
“I remember now! The one on stage at the lecture that night… Jiang Yunian! That was also you?”
“…”
Could he deny it?
Fang Xiaolin looked at his outfit, her expression complicated. “I didn’t expect you to actually have this kind of hobby.”
The gentle voice tore right through his disguise. He bit his lip.
“Classmate, have I disturbed you?”
Fang Xiaolin was stunned, realizing she had crossed a line. The other party’s reaction, however, was unexpected. She actually admired his psychological resilience somewhat; if she had been caught in an embarrassing situation twice, she would have long since looked for a crack in the ground to hide in.
“Is this the look you use… to attract him?” Fang Xiaolin paused. “Does he know?”
Jiang Yunian looked blankly at this strange girl. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I have to go.”
“Don’t go yet!” Fang Xiaolin chased after him. “I still have questions for you!”
The other party’s behavior was clearly excessive. Jiang Yunian sped up his pace until his arm was grabbed.
Jiang Yunian was startled. “You…?”
“What are you doing?”
Around the corner a few meters away, a low voice suddenly rang out.
Jiang Yan stood there, unaware of how long he had been watching, staring darkly at the two people entangled in ambiguity.
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