Chapter 92: What About My New Persona?
“It’s just getting off a ship; what sacrifice could there be?”
In his haste, the question slipped out of Jian Minglang’s mouth before he could stop it.
Le Can lifted his eyelids, repeating the words in a flat tone, “That’s right, it’s just getting off a ship. How much of a sacrifice could it possibly be…”
Looking at the young man with his curving, smiling eyes and nonchalant demeanor, Jian Minglang swallowed hard. His heart, which had already been hanging by a thread, now hammered with an intense sense of unease.
It wasn’t until a knock sounded at the door and Jian Minglang stared wide-eyed at the pile of items being brought in that his heart finally hit the floor with a thud—completely dead.
Having passed through several layers of security checks, Yi Ying squeezed into the room, a heavy makeup case in one hand and a large bag of clothes slung over the other.
Once she regained her footing, she let out a deep breath and glanced at the two people in the room—one sitting, one standing. When her gaze landed on Le Can, her serious expression softened slightly.
“Mr. Le, it’s been a while. I will be in charge of the styling for you and this gentleman today.”
Le Can, who had already received word from Xi Yun, wasn’t surprised. He walked over to help her set down the makeup case and replied, “Then I’ll leave it to you, Ms. Yi.”
With that, he turned and gave a slight tilt of his chin toward Jian Minglang.
“A broken bone takes a hundred days to heal. He still won’t be able to leave that wheelchair when we disembark. Since you’re here today, does that mean you’ve found a way to make his wheelchair use seem reasonable?”
A person in a wheelchair was a massive target, yet Jian Minglang had no choice but to use one.
While a cast on his arm could be hidden under a bulky coat, his inability to walk was difficult to conceal quietly.
Unfortunately, because he had been searching for Le Can in the sea, Xi Yun’s abilities had been heavily drained. He should have recovered after several days of rest, but for some reason—perhaps he had secretly used his power again—Xi Yun also needed a wheelchair to disembark.
Even though Xi Yun had arranged for some of his own people to use wheelchairs as a diversion, it was obvious that anyone with mobility issues would be closely watched.
Yi Ying let out a light breath and nodded reliably. “Yes, Mr. Le.”
With her hands free, she quickly used her empty hand to hook a long, chestnut-colored wig that was about to fall from the edge of the large bag.
She held up the full wig. “Given this gentleman’s situation, we plan to disguise him as a woman in the late stages of pregnancy.”
Jian Minglang, who had been staring blankly at the wig since Yi Ying entered, suddenly jolted. He pointed at himself, his face filled with shock. “A pregnant woman? Me?!”
Le Can folded his arms, scanning the person in the wheelchair from head to toe. A corner of his eye twitched upward. “Whose idea was this? It’s actually quite a good identity.”
Yi Ying finally allowed her first smile since entering the room. “The majority of our team’s clients are women, and I happened to think of one of those mothers-to-be.”
“This idea was also reported back to President Xi, and he gave his approval as well.”
Hearing Xi Yun mentioned, Le Can—who had deliberately avoided contact with him while nursing his back these past few days—gave a soft ‘mm’ to show he understood.
“Then let’s do it.”
Jian Minglang, the actual subject of the conversation who was being ignored, looked back and forth between the two of them in disbelief. “Wait, does no one care whether I live or die?”
Le Can cast a casual glance his way. “This is caring about whether you live or die.”
He sat on the sofa in a languid posture, legs crossed. Though he looked relaxed, the coldness in his half-lidded eyes was enough to make one shiver.
“Jian Yu wants you dead; I insist on you living well.”
“Jian Minglang, make sure you heal your hand and leg properly,” Le Can said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “When the time comes to collect the debt at his doorstep, I want you to stand before him perfectly intact.”
Although Le Can wasn’t clear on the exact reason why Jian Yu wanted to kill his own younger brother, just imagining the scene made him envision the other man’s face turning cold.
For someone with such a strong desire for control, the impact of things and people falling outside of their plan… when that time came, it would surely be exceptionally interesting.
Looking at the young man whose smile held no warmth, Jian Minglang obediently suppressed the awkwardness in his heart. He knew full well which was more important: his dignity or his life.
Jian Minglang managed to contain his shock when silicone prosthetic noses and chins were applied to his face. He stared with wide eyes as the long wig was fitted and a fake belly was strapped to his waist, barely holding back his protest.
Finally, holding his breath, he changed into a dress with the makeup artist’s help and was pushed in front of the mirror. Jian Minglang, who had been sitting as if on a bed of needles, let out a sudden, loud “Holy sh*t!” the moment he saw his reflection.
Jian Minglang finally understood why Le Can had been casting those intrigued glances his way.
If it weren’t for the limitations of his injured leg, Jian Minglang would have certainly jumped out of the wheelchair.
Yi Ying, who had proactively pressed down on his shoulders: “…”
You aren’t exactly being well-behaved right now either.
Sitting in the wheelchair was a long-haired “woman” with wide, round eyes and a face that looked plump yet slightly frail. She appeared to be in her thirties, and even with makeup, the exhaustion between her brows couldn’t be hidden.
Looking down at the belly as round as a watermelon, an outsider would realize the source of her fatigue. The pregnancy had made her figure bloated and her movements inconvenient, forcing her to rely on the wheelchair behind her to move…
“My god, who could tell I’m a man?!”
His voice, shocked to the point of cracking, rang out, ruining the harmony of the scene.
Le Can raised a hand to his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. He looked at Yi Ying. “Is there anything that can save his voice?”
Otherwise, no matter how good the disguise was, it would be wasted the moment he spoke.
Prepared as always, Yi Ying pulled a small device from the inner pocket of her bag. “Try this wireless voice changer.”
Feeling something icy and cold being stuck to his neck, Jian Minglang blinked and hesitated for two seconds before pinching his throat to test it. “How about now?”
To his surprise, a gentle and moving female voice flowed into his ears the next second.
Jian Minglang was stunned. He covered his throat and tried a few more sentences. Without fail, every time, it was that voice—both strange and yet strangely familiar.
Le Can watched Jian Minglang, who was now playing with the device in a mix of odd excitement, and silently swallowed the instructions he had been about to give.
Then, he turned his gaze to Yi Ying, who was looking at him.
Having some psychological preparation, Le Can looked at the remaining items in the bag with a calm, incurious gaze.
“If Jian Minglang is a pregnant woman with mobility issues, then what is my persona?”
“This persona,” Le Can paused, “was it also approved by Xi Yun?”
Yi Ying smiled and nodded.
Without directly stating the persona, Yi Ying briskly pulled a pure black suit and a white shirt from the bag. Then, she fished out a black wig from the very bottom.
“I’m not sure if it’s suitable yet. Mr. Le, why don’t you try the makeup and clothes first?”
Le Can’s gaze swept over the high-waisted wide-leg trousers before he slowly stood up.
Mm, it was better than the dress he had originally imagined.
Le Can moved his finger away from the lock screen of his phone, deciding for the time being to give that “dog of a man” a few extra points to make up for the ones he’d lost recently.
…
An hour later, Yi Ying looked at the person standing before the mirror. As the creator of this image, a flash of amazement crossed her eyes, and she couldn’t help but praise him in her heart.
On the other side, Jian Minglang, who had been having the time of his life with the voice changer, fell silent at some point. He was incoherent, unable to form a complete sentence, and could only use his hands to turn his wheelchair, circling around Le Can.
“Whoa! Hiss… this isn’t fair!”
His own disguised appearance was average at best, so why did Le Can look so good as a “woman”…
The long-haired, straight-haired beauty with fire-red lips pressed together looked down at the complaining person. Those eyes, traced with upturned eyeliner, were sharp yet glamorous, carrying a heavy sense of pressure.
“She” wore an all-black bespoke suit. Broad shoulders, peak lapels, double-breasted—the structured yet effortless silhouette brought a wave of elegance and composure typical of those in high positions.
The top two buttons of the white inner shirt were undone, revealing a slender neck and a hint of a beautiful collarbone, adding a touch of languor and sexiness to the formal look.
Those impossibly long legs were encased in crisp, high-waisted wide-leg suit trousers, hiding the flaw that Le Can lacked the soft lines of a woman.
With a professional and critical eye, Yi Ying looked the supermodel-like person in front of her from head to toe. Then, she pulled a pair of black thick-framed sunglasses and a pair of black patent-leather red-bottomed high heels from her bag.
As she handed them over, Yi Ying hesitated for a moment. “Mr. Le, I don’t know if high heels…”
Le Can reached out and hooked the shoes, sliding them onto his feet with a sense of familiarity. “I won’t be very agile, but if it’s just for the walk off the ship, I’ll be fine.”
Back when he was so poor he had to split every penny, Le Can couldn’t count how many strange part-time jobs he had taken.
A pair of stiletto heels was hardly a challenge.
Jian Minglang watched the red soles of the shoes flash occasionally as the supermodel-like Le Can moved. He then looked at those eyes, which seemed even more mysterious and cold behind the semi-transparent sunglasses, and his mouth fell open even wider.
Damn! Looking at Le Can now, Jian Minglang was certain that even his current husband might not recognize the person sharing his bed.
But he had to say, the guy was eating really well…
Le Can, who was rolling up his white shirt sleeves, cast a helpless glance over. “Thanks for the compliment. I’m not eating poorly either.”
Suddenly realizing he had let his thoughts slip out again, Jian Minglang slapped a hand over his mouth. A moment later, when he finally processed the suggestive implications of Le Can’s words, he looked at the two of them standing side by side.
Jian Minglang suddenly felt a surge of envy.
Partners, family, companions who could trust each other with their backs… at least one of the two transmigrators was lucky enough to have it all.
Speaking of “eating well,” Le Can couldn’t help but think of Xi Yun.
He wasn’t just eating well; he was eating too well… so well that he felt stuffed, so stuffed that a single time made him consider retreating.
However, he glanced at the silhouette reflected in the full-length mirror.
Le Can tapped his finger against the side of his phone, finally opening the camera app and taking a casual photo. He sent it to the person he had been ignoring for a week.
There was only a single, somewhat blurry image, without any accompanying text.
The next second, the silent phone suddenly vibrated.
After that, vibrations sounded one after another. Le Can reached out to darken the glowing screen and casually tucked the phone into his pocket.
He took a few steps to adjust to the high heels, and the well-defined red lips beneath the black sunglasses slowly curved upward.
“Let’s go. Don’t keep them waiting.”
T/N: The term “dog of a man” (狗男人) is a common web novel slang for a male lead who is a bit of a jerk, shameless, or overly possessive, often used by the protagonist in a teasing or annoyed way. Also, “Mt. Tai” (泰山) in the previous chapter refers to the idiom “having eyes but failing to recognize Mt. Tai,” meaning failing to recognize a person of great importance or power.
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