As the winter morning light slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows and spilled into the living room, the lazy figure leaning against the sofa was rhythmically tapping his left foot to the game’s sound effects, his fingers dancing rapidly across the phone screen.
21 minutes and 7 seconds.
The sound of my throat swallowing echoed unnaturally loud in the stillness.
The cedar-scented diffuser by the entrance continued to exhale silently, and the young master occupying the sofa hadn’t lifted his gaze from the screen since I stepped inside.
“Victory!”
When the mechanical female voice rang in my ears in sync with the clock’s chime, I finally got a good look at that tilted, unruly face.
Shadows from an all-nighter darkened his lower eyelids, but the malice burning in his pupils was alarmingly bright.
“So you’re that Lin Yunxia my old man told me about?”
“Mm, hello, Yan Dong-ge.”
I gave a slight bow, flashing a professional fifteen-degree smile.
But his expression remained entirely devoid of warmth.
He casually picked up a glass of iced cola from the coffee table and took a sip.
“Lin, let me make two things clear. First—swallow that ‘ge’ when you’re talking to me. When we’re working, address me by title. Second—” he said as he slowly extended the hand holding the paper cup, then, right in front of my calm gaze, tipped it over.
The light brown liquid flowed down the cup’s edge, snaking across the grain of the teak floor in warped streams.
“Listen up. When I tell you to do something here, you damn well do it. Now wipe this floor clean.”
“Understood, young master.”
As I crouched down, I heard the faint creak of the leather sofa.
From this distance, I could clearly see the unfamiliar, dark-patterned logo printed on his sweatpants.
By the third wipe, a shadow suddenly loomed over me.
“You sure you’re not here to be a child bride?”
“Young master, I’m a guy.”
I kept wiping, but my knuckles had turned white from the pressure.
The dark teak floor abruptly became a mirror, reflecting the distorted face of him leaning in close.
The boy’s sharp canine bit into his lower lip as he grinned wickedly.
Beneath the frantic ticking of his wristwatch’s second hand, his voice exploded in my ears: “Lin Yunxia, aren’t you a fucking girl right now?!”
Ding—
The jarring ringtone of my phone tore through the seam between dream and reality without warning.
My eyes flew open, and my hand instinctively reached for the nightstand—only to brush against cold air.
As my vision gradually cleared and my brain started to kick in, I realized what I’d just experienced was nothing more than a terrifyingly vivid nightmare.
The phone?
I’d left it on the desk before bed.
But the moment I threw off the blanket and sat up, something strange happened—long black hair tumbled off my shoulder and brushed against my collarbone with each breath.
Sleep vanished in an instant, and my motion froze midair.
“Still… dreaming?”
Staring blankly at the curve outlined by the morning light beneath my pajama collar through the half-drawn curtain, I sat stunned for a long moment before reaching a trembling hand down to my pajama pants.
As that terrifying sensation surged up my spine to my brain, my face twisted in disbelief.
“A… girl?”
Wait a minute!
This doesn’t make sense—what’s going on?
I clearly remember everything being perfectly normal before I went to bed last night!
As the shrill alarm pierced my ears a second time, I snapped out of it and stumbled out of bed.
The bone-chilling cold of February 1st morning seeped through my cotton socks and into the soles of my feet, but I had no time to care.
I dashed straight into the bathroom.
The face staring back at me in the cracked mirror of the old rental apartment wasn’t the familiar one from last night.
It was a completely unfamiliar girl—wearing my deep blue plaid pajamas.
Her expression was one of shock, but more than that, it was full of confusion and deep bewilderment.
If I had to find any trace of my former self on that face, it would have to be the tiny teardrop mole just beside the trembling lashes of her right eye.
After a long silence, the girl in the mirror suddenly tugged open the collar of her pajamas.
Below her collarbone, a dark red crescent-shaped scar was clearly visible—left from when I fell down the stairs at age three.
And now, that very mark was etched into this unfamiliar porcelain-white skin.
“This… isn’t a dream.”
The girl, her face half-covered by long black hair, mouthed the exact words in my heart. Then she reached up and gave her cheek a hard tug.
“Ow.”
My name is Lin Yunxia.
I used to be just your average college freshman—a guy who was good at nothing except taking exams.
My only wish was to graduate, land a decent job, and start paying off my debts.
But now, even that small and humble dream felt increasingly out of reach.
Sigh…
With a low sigh, I gave my head a slight shake and pulled myself back to reality.
Lin Yunxia.
If there was anything comforting me in this moment of utter chaos, it was the ID card clutched tightly in my hand.
The name on it was still the familiar Lin Yunxia, but the photo—and the gender field—had unmistakably changed.
That character for “female” stared right back at me, and the second-to-last digit of the ID number had shifted from a 5 to a 6…
The surroundings were exactly the same as they had been the night before, down to the angle of the toothbrush in the cup and the baggy pajamas I’d worn for years.
So, everything seemed unchanged—except for the slightly parted, alluring red lips of the girl in the mirror… and the soft curve of her chest.
As much as I wanted to analyze this girl from a biological standpoint, maybe even conduct a full anatomical study, that would have to wait for another time.
Because if I didn’t get out the door soon, I was going to be late for work.
Feeling frazzled, I filled the cup with water again and forced myself to begin my usual morning routine.
How does a girl get ready before leaving the house?
Obviously, after living eighteen years as a guy, I had absolutely no clue how to solve this kind of advanced-level problem.
Thankfully, the uniform for my job was a sharp business suit—the kind of outfit that didn’t require much fashion sense.
As the morning light crept along the cracks in the bathroom tiles, I finally managed to fumble all the buttons on my shirt into place, cheeks flushed red.
The slightly shrunken business suit now fit this new body rather well, but the unexpected weight on my chest still made bending down to tie my shoes awkward and clumsy.
The hardest thing to deal with was actually the hair.
With no experience at all, I hastily combed it through and grabbed a random string to tie it up before stuffing it messily under a baseball cap.
Why a string? Well, my mom has short hair, so there wasn’t even a single hair tie in the house—let alone anything like women’s underwear that would actually fit me now.
Besides, it didn’t feel right to rummage through her room this early and risk waking her.
On top of that, I was already running late and had zero time to deal with all this.
So it wasn’t until I was gasping for air on the subway, leaning against the door to catch my breath, that my scrambled mind finally found a sliver of space to plan for what lay ahead.
First off, this definitely wasn’t a dream. I had really become a girl.
I had no idea how long this situation would last, but I needed to prepare for the long term.
I’d grab some female essentials on the way home tonight.
Letting out a tiny breath of relief, I straightened up a little and stared at my own ridiculous reflection in the subway window.
The baseball cap barely held down the hastily tied hair, though a few stubborn curls still stuck out from the brim.
Paired with my sharp, professional outfit, the whole look was just… off.
On the way to work, I spent the whole ride trying to get used to this awkward, unfamiliar body.
At the very least, by the time I arrived panting at the familiar security door and reached out to scan my fingerprint, I’d started to get a little more used to my current state.
“Good morning, Miss Lin. The current time is 8:13:20. Clock-in successful. You are 13 minutes and 20 seconds late. Have a pleasant workday.”
The emotionless robotic voice crushed my last sliver of hope into dust.
I had rushed as much as I could—but I was still late.
Despite the crushing frustration, I took a deep breath, forced myself to reset, and slowly pushed open the familiar door.
What came into view was an incredibly spacious living room.
At the far end stood an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, and the early spring sunlight, like melted amber, spilled through the glass and onto the warm teak floors.
The interior decor was minimal, but the few pieces of carefully chosen, tasteful furniture and art made it clear that the owner of this home was quite wealthy.
And rightly so—this was downtown.
Anyone who could afford a full-floor unit here had to be either rich or powerful.
“Lin, what the hell? Do you know what time it is? You trying to starve me to death or something?”
Just as I changed into indoor shoes, a sharp voice called out from the nearby sofa, making me instinctively furrow my brows.
The source of this impolite voice was my employer. His name was Yan Dong.
He was around my age, but far more difficult to deal with.
At the moment, Yan Dong was curled up on the sofa in a dark gray silk robe, playing mobile games.
His belt was loosely tied, hanging carelessly.
He didn’t even bother to look up at me, fully immersed in slaying enemies in his digital world.
Having long grown used to his complaints, I didn’t respond.
I simply stood in front of the full-length mirror at the entrance and continued adjusting my outfit.
The tabby cat curled up atop the nearby shoe cabinet stretched lazily, then hopped down and rubbed against my calf with practiced ease, its familiar purring rumbling deep in its throat.
“Morning, Mao Mao.”
I bent down slightly and reached out to gently scratch the little cat’s chin.
The fluffy little thing wagged its tail happily, then flopped onto its back, exposing its belly for me to rub.
After playing with the cat for a bit, I turned and headed into the kitchen.
In my view, nothing illustrates the gap between rich and poor more clearly than kitchen size.
Compared to the narrow galley back home that barely fits one person, Yan Dong’s kitchen was nearly half the size of my entire apartment—and fully stocked with every kind of kitchenware you could imagine.
If Yan Dong was so filthy rich, why would he rather go hungry in the morning than just order takeout?
The answer was simple: having me cook was cheaper than ordering delivery, and he genuinely enjoyed bossing me around.
I tied on an apron and rolled up my sleeves.
Since time was tight, I kept breakfast simple—a sandwich and a glass of warm milk. Done.
“You move any slower and it’ll be lunchtime before you finish.”
I had no interest in standing there and serving someone while they ate, nor did I enjoy being nagged by that guy who looked down on me, so I did what came naturally—hid in the kitchen and started cleaning up once everything was ready.
“Next time make Chinese breakfast. I’m sick of sandwiches.”
The sound of chewing mixed with game sound effects drifted in as I stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the unfamiliar texture on the skin at the base of my right thumb.
The calluses from years of holding a pen were still there, but the palm now had faint red marks from the rag’s fibers.
This was unmistakably my hand—but something about it still felt foreign, hard to get used to.
“Hey, Lin—what, you mute today? I’m talking to you, why aren’t you answering?”
The grating voice came from the dining table again, making me clench my jaw as I lowered my head to resume wiping the counter.
I didn’t want to deal with Yan Dong’s petty antics, but in the end, I could only sigh softly in defeat.
“Understood, young master. I’ll make you youtiao and doufunao next time.”
Maybe my answer satisfied him, because the noise finally died down.
But just when I thought I’d made it through the morning, a voice suddenly rang out from the doorway—this time filled with confusion.
“Who are you?”
…