Ji Yuenián once heard a saying: “When someone suspects you have weapons of mass destruction, you’d best really have weapons of mass destruction.”
She’d always thought that was just something said to scare newbies on a website—until she realized she’d just run into the real deal.
Who was this person? Some recluse? A god? An alien? An immortal?
There was no time to think further. Ji Yuenián immediately straightened her back, sitting upright and composed, her fingers flying as she typed rapidly on the keyboard. The sound of clacking keys echoed through the dorm.
“You’re that green-haired little pretty boy?!!!”
“Are you there? Don’t go, I have so many questions!!”
“What’s with this gender swap? Can you change me back? I’ll pay any price, my life is a complete mess right now!”
“Hey~ don’t log off, you can have anything you want.”
She sent several messages in quick succession, but it was like a stone thrown into the sea—no response whatsoever.
“++!”
Ji Yuenián cursed under her breath, nearly grinding her teeth to bits.
“Lao Ji, you okay?” Hu Li, who was duo-queuing with Yao Shiming, glanced over and asked with concern when he saw Ji Yuenián’s sour expression.
“I’m fine, just got trolled by teammates in the last match.” Ji Yuenián shook her head, feigning lightheartedness to cover her earlier loss of composure.
In private, her nimble fingers tapped on the avatar of that hateful, yet irresistible, bastard. She just typed out a line:
“Jiang Chi, are you free tomorrow afternoon? Let’s meet…”
Before she could finish the sentence, a message popped up. It was a photo—an artfully prepared medicinal dish—accompanied by a line of text.
“Xiao Yueyue, Xiao Qingchan, come and try my new medicinal cuisine.”
Ji Yuenián stared blankly: …..
Great, this guy was acting up again.
*****
That night, at the Ji residence.
On her bedroom desk stood a small blackboard. Ji Yuenián rested her chin on one hand while writing something on the blackboard with chalk in the other.
One after another, the “possibilities” she’d seen in dreams were listed out. At the same time, she put down the chalk and gently stroked the two-faced silver coin she kept close to her chest.
If her understanding was correct—according to that green-haired little pretty boy—the coin she held was called “Possibility,” and its function was to observe, through dreams, the as-yet-unborn and ever-changing futures.
Thinking this, Ji Yuenián stowed the coin away and looked up at the “possibilities” she’d written on the blackboard.
Imprisoned, conditioned, turned into a woman, crushed by guilt, split open and made into two people, dying of pleasure on the bed, ruled by desire…
“What the hell kind of futures are these!!!” Ji Yuenián growled as she ruffled her hair in frustration. Not a single good ending.
Either imprisoned, conditioned, or forced to fall and become “Ji Qingchan.” The slightly better outcome was Jiang Chi committing suicide, or her brain being split into two people.
Was her future really this pathetic?!!
“Calm down, calm down. Remain unruffled even if Mount Tai collapses before you. Remain unruffled even if Mount Tai collapses before you.” Taking several deep breaths, her chest rising and falling, Ji Yuenián silently repeated her life motto to herself until her agitation slowly subsided.
Maybe it was the accumulation of events since the gender swap, or maybe it was a side effect of this female body, but Ji Yuenián found her emotions growing ever more sensitive.
“So, what should I do next?”
Ji Yuenián fell deep into thought.
Based on her recent dreams, there was no good ending for her and Jiang Chi—either she met with tragedy, or Jiang Chi committed suicide. There was no ideal future where she turned back into a man, Jiang Chi let go, and the two parted ways peacefully.
As for Jiang Chi, Ji Yuenián regarded him as nothing more than an ordinary bed partner—besides gratitude, guilt, and a bit of fondness from their nights together, there was nothing more.
So… what now?
Tell Jiang Chi everything and let him decide? When he wasn’t having an episode, Jiang Chi was truly brilliant—his intelligence easily surpassed hers.
But…
Thinking of the dream where her brain was split into two, and Jiang Chi’s occasional bouts of obsession, muttering “Why aren’t you twin sisters…”
Her expression darkened.
Her fingers tapped unconsciously on the desk, the crisp sound echoing in the room. The soft, bright light cast shadows across her flawless profile as she lowered her lashes in thought, long eyelashes creating a dense shade.
Ji Yuenián was not especially clever, but she understood one thing: never hand anyone a handle to control you—especially not a man who always had ulterior motives and wished for her to fall.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t even know when she’d been successfully “conquered.”
At that thought, her tapping fingers stilled. A sly glint flashed in her eyes, a faint smile tugged at her lips as she picked up the phone from her bedside table.
*****
Rental apartment, living room.
Ji Yuenián entered uninvited. The moment she stepped through the door, a faint scent of medicinal cuisine teased her nose like a mischievous sprite. Several books on medicinal cooking were neatly laid out on the dining table, a clear sign of a certain man’s dedication.
“Smells pretty good.” With a slight twitch of her delicate nose, Ji Yuenián headed straight for the kitchen. The bubbling medicinal pot caught her gaze the instant she stepped inside, the thick fragrance like invisible ribbons tightly binding her.
Jiang Chi stood to one side, apron on, a ladle in one hand and a book in the other. His attention wasn’t on the short-haired beauty who had barged in, but rather fully focused on the medicinal dish before him.
After a while, catching Ji Yuenián’s greedy expression from the corner of his eye, he turned halfway, a gentle smile appearing as he made an inviting gesture, “Want a taste?”
“Then I’ll gladly accept.”
Without another word, she ignored all etiquette, grabbed a nearby spoon, scooped up some medicinal cuisine, blew on it, and eagerly tasted it. The unique flavor blossomed slowly on her tongue—rich and warm.
Seeing her eat, Jiang Chi’s lips curved into a contented smile.
“How is it? Tasty?”
“It’s good.” Ji Yuenián mumbled with her mouth full, scooping up another spoonful. Although it was called medicinal cuisine, it tasted more like old hen soup—just with a lot of herbs added.
“Not bad cooking. I could give you a run for your money.”
“Learned from my mom a few days ago.”
Jiang Chi smiled modestly, but his gaze dropped to the beauty’s lower abdomen. Though the loose T-shirt hid her slender waist, he could still imagine how that certain organ inside was developing.
Sensing this, Ji Yuenián touched her stomach in confusion. Why was Jiang Chi staring at her belly? Wasn’t he supposed to be into hands? Even if he was a pervert, shouldn’t he be staring at her chest or butt?
Forget it, business comes first.