After investing 200 yuan in extra props, Song Wuli headed to a women’s clothing store.
The variety of women’s shops overwhelmed him, and he felt shy.
Pretending to pass by one store, he noticed the clerk’s gaze and quickly looked ahead, acting like he was navigating.
He passed that store.
Another women’s clothing store appeared, and he passed it too.
After bypassing four or five stores, even clerks from other shops started giving him odd looks.
Reluctantly, he entered a budget-friendly general store.
His eyes didn’t know where to land.
A female clerk approached, about to speak.
Afraid of being misunderstood, Song Wuli jumped in: “I’m buying clothes for my female friend.”
The clerk paused.
Wasn’t that obvious?
Who else would he buy women’s clothes for—himself?
She thought it but didn’t say it, guiding him instead.
She asked about his “female friend’s” height, weight, bust, and hip measurements.
Song Wuli compared her to the clerk: a head shorter, much slimmer waist, similar bust, decent hips.
“Uh… sir, are you sure you got that right? Maybe call your friend to confirm,” the clerk said, eyeing him skeptically.
She’d seen plenty of sleazy guys who idealized their “female friends” with a rose-tinted filter.
Recalling his gestures: about 30-something kilos, 150 cm tall, slimmer waist than hers, standard bust and hips—not flat or skinny.
What kind of perfect person was this?
Clearly a memory glitch with a beautifying filter.
Song Wuli pulled out his phone, found a picture of Yinlin, and showed the clerk.
“This is about her size.”
The clerk’s mind swirled with mixed feelings but helped pick clothes anyway.
“What style does your friend like? We have skirts… pants, spring, fall…”
“Pants,” Song Wuli said firmly, no hesitation.
They chose simple, lively pants and a top.
His gaze landed on underwear.
The clerk caught on and started explaining options.
“I suggest this bra for your daughter. The benefits are…”
“Uh, not my daughter, a female friend,” Song Wuli clarified quickly.
His heart sank—34 and he already looked like a dad?
The clerk corrected herself, explaining bra materials.
Since his “friend” seemed to still be growing, she suggested a slightly larger size.
“No need, she won’t grow. Just give me the right size,” Song Wuli insisted, knowing magical girls don’t age.
The clerk didn’t argue—let him complain about a tight fit later.
She still recommended an adjustable bra.
“Sir, how many sets?”
“Sets?” Song Wuli blinked, answering instinctively, “One’s fine.”
“Huh?” The clerk was stumped but didn’t press—one it was.
Packaged, paid.
400 yuan gone, totaling 600 yuan invested.
Not done yet, he walked a few dozen meters to a shoe store.
He showed Yinlin’s photo, zooming in on her bare feet, asking for size recommendations.
“I suggest these flat sandals for your daughter,” the clerk said, showing him teen sandals.
“No, it’s for a female friend, not a daughter,” Song Wuli corrected again.
“Oh? Then high heels?”
“No, flats are fine.”
Shopping was pure agony.
Everything settled, it was nearly 11 p.m. He caught the last subway.
“Back? Got any food for me?” Diamond, surprisingly, wanted to eat.
“Didn’t bring any—you didn’t say,” Song Wuli said, setting his bags down.
The fridge was empty—leftovers gone.
He closed the curtains.
While cooking rice, he transformed at home.
Diamond watched curiously, unsure what he was up to.
He stripped completely naked.
“Oh? Finally interested in your magical girl body?” Diamond teased, pleased by the shift.
“Don’t talk nonsense. It’s for academic research.”
What Song Wuli was doing was a bit shameless—squeezing his chest, weighing it, bending to inspect his lower body’s mysteries.
Not done, he went to the bathroom to study himself in the mirror.
“In human terms, you’re pretty shameless,” Diamond jabbed.
“It’s academic research—how’s that shameless?” Song Wuli was thick-skinned when alone.
After initial study, he confirmed he’d fully transformed—no trace of Song Wuli resembled Yinlin; no one could connect them.
Then, stumbling in oversized slippers, he went to the living room, unwrapped the clothes, and put them on unwashed.
The clerk’s eye was spot-on—they fit perfectly.
The pants and top gave Yinlin a lively, youthful vibe, like a young JK.
He noticed two raised points on the shirt.
Crap, forgot the bra.
He took off the top, struggled with the bra for minutes, and finally got it on.
Then the flat sandals.
Fully dressed, he walked, still stumbling, unaccustomed to the height change.
Looking in the mirror: a perfect, fairy-like girl.
If only she could be taller—she looked too young.
In this world, 16 was legally adult, and this body… probably looked of age.
He paced the house for half an hour, even doing chores as Yinlin, cooking two dishes for Diamond.
His control over this body grew stronger, more natural.
Sitting down, he ate a late-night snack as a magical girl.
The first time eating in this body—felt weird.
Before bed, he reverted to Song Wuli.
The next day, he woke two hours earlier than usual.
Groggy.
He transformed into a magical girl, shed the magical clothes, and put on the new outfit.
Following Baidu tutorials, he curled his eyelashes, reshaped his brows, and applied light powder to tone down the overly fair skin.
No heavy makeup—he didn’t know how and feared messing up, so he kept it light.
He tucked his silver hair into a hairnet and put on a black, shoulder-length wig.
Fixing minor flaws in the mirror, he was nearly perfect.
The mirror showed a woman with black hair, slightly more mature with makeup.
Still 50% similar to Yinlin—too close.
He grabbed sunglasses, covering his eyes, dropping the similarity to 30%.
Perfect! I’m a genius.
Diamond watched, stunned, unsure what he was doing.
“Diamond, any magical aura on me?”
Yinlin asked.
“None,” Diamond answered honestly.
As expected—without the magical girl outfit, a glowing beacon of magic, she was fine.
Without using magic or wearing the outfit, she looked like an ordinary human.
Time to cash in!
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