“…That’s the current situation.”
After listening to Jiang Chi’s recent condition, a man in a white coat with gold-rimmed glasses nodded.
He checked a box on the diagnosis report in his hand before setting it down.
“Same as usual. I’ll prescribe some more medication for you.”
He stood up and walked to the medicine cabinet, retrieving several boxes of pills.
After packing them into a bag, he handed them to Jiang Chi.
“Obsessive cleanliness is mostly a psychological disorder, and it may persist for a long time. You should be mentally prepared.”
Jiang Chi responded with a flat “Mm,” took the medication, paid, and turned to leave.
He hadn’t gone far when the doctor’s voice called out from behind.
“One more thing.”
“Junior Jiang, I still recommend you make an appointment at the psychiatric neurology department. Severe obsessive cleanliness could potentially lead to other mental illnesses or even compress brain nerves.”
“Thanks.”
Jiang Chi stepped out of the clinic and glanced at the sky.
Night was approaching, with neon lights flickering on both sides of the street and cars weaving through traffic.
As he turned a corner, a figure suddenly flashed before him.
Before he could dodge, he collided heavily with a soft thud.
“Ouch-”
A delicate cry came from the other person.
The one Jiang Chi had bumped into wore a violet dress, black sunglasses, and a mask, with a red bow around her neck.
Her exceptionally tall stature several centimeters taller than Jiang Chi’s near 1.8-meter frame-gave off an unmistakable aura of a mature beauty.
“Sorry,” Jiang Chi apologized.
The tall girl looked down at him.
Both wore masks, obscuring their faces, but when she noticed the boy’s pale blue eyes, her body stiffened abruptly.
Then, she fled as if running for her life.
Jiang Chi paid no further attention to her.
He raised his gloved hand and brushed it over the spot where they had collided, as if dusting off nonexistent dirt.
The tall girl arrived at another clinic door.
She pushed it open and strode inside.
The clinic was small but exquisitely decorated, featuring a black hardwood desk, potted plants, an aquarium, a computer, and a plump blue- and-white striped cat.
Two embroidered banners hung on the walls, reading “Miracle Healing Hands” and “Compassionate Physician.”
“Dr. Zhang,” the tall girl called.
Dr. Zhang sat behind the desk with a stack of documents beside him.
He was holding a fish-shaped biscuit, teasing the cat.
When he looked up at the visitor, the cat seized the opportunity to snatch the treat from his hand and disappeared after a few leaps.
Unfazed, Dr. Zhang merely glanced briefly before turning his attention to the tall girl.
“Madam, how can I—”
“It’s me.”
The girl lowered her mask slightly, revealing a handsome face and a pair of black eyes.
“Ah, Junior Ji.”
Dr. Zhang’s lips twitched at the sight of the girl’s true appearance, but he maintained his smile.
“Please, have a seat.”
Ji Yuenian sat down as instructed.
Dr. Zhang, whose full name was Zhang Junfang, had graduated from Wanqing Yongxing School, making him Ji Yuenian’s senior by several generations.
Their acquaintance had been a matter of chance.
According to the other party’s introduction, they originally studied new energy but later switched to psychology.
After making good money abroad, they returned to Wanqing City and opened a small clinic, offering students half-price services as a way to give back to their alma mater.
As they put it, “Returning home without showing off one’s success is like walking at night in fine clothes.”
When Ji Yuenian took a seat, Zhang Junfang flipped through a stack of forms beside him, pulled out one, and fixed his gaze on the medical record.
Adjusting his glasses, he looked up at the tall girl before him and asked, “How have you been these past couple of weeks?”
“Same as usual,” Ji Yuenian sighed.
“Dr. Zhang, are you sure these aren’t counterfeit drugs? I’ve been taking them for a whole semester with no effect.”
“Transvestism is a psychosexual disorder. Medication is just supplementary—real change comes from psychological transformation.”
Zhang Junfang studied the medical record thoughtfully, stroking his chin.
“But honestly, it’s not that serious an issue. Nowadays, young folks are all about exploring kinks and unique preferences.”
“Once I treated a couple with psychiatric disorders. They never fully recovered, but they seemed to have turned their condition into some kind of shared kink…”
Catching himself rambling, he grabbed a ballpoint pen and got straight to the point.
“Tell me about your recent experiences cross-dressing. Don’t hold back—we’re professionals here. Rest assured, this stays strictly between us.”
“Well… still exciting, thrilling, and then there’s the morning… you know.”
Ji Yuenian fiddled with the fake long hair near her earlobe, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Sexual arousal, right?”
Zhang Junfang scribbled on the paper.
“Same advice as before: relax, hit the gym more, or find a girlfriend to divert your attention.”
“I’ll prescribe the usual meds. Show me your student ID for the discount. Given you’re a regular, I’ll round it down to 20.”
Ji Yuenian nodded, handing over the student ID before pulling out her phone to scan the payment.
Minutes later, Ji Yuenian stepped out of the clinic carrying a couple of medicine boxes.
Night had fully fallen, the streets ablaze with neon lights as traffic flowed endlessly.
The tall figure melted into the play of light and shadow.
Inside the clinic, Zhang Junfang was organizing medical records when a night breeze swept in, knocking the top two sheets to the floor.
He bent to pick them up.
The records clearly listed both individuals’ information.
As if struck by a thought, Zhang Junfang took out his phone and opened the Wanqing Yongxing College forum.
Pinned at the top was a post titled “2024 Campus Heartthrob Election.”
He compared the photos on the medical records with the two highest-voted candidates.
“One heartthrob, one campus bully. One with severe mysophobia, the other a transvestite.”
Putting his phone down, he sighed.
“Students these days are under so much pressure.”
Nighttime.
The crisp sound of footsteps echoed through the dim hallway as Ji Yuenian returned to her rented apartment under harsh white lights, phone in hand.
The apartment was small-just over 20 square meters—and sparsely furnished.
Aside from a bed, two large mirrored wardrobes, a computer setup with gaming chair and desk, there was little else.
But for Ji Yuenian, it was enough.
More than a living space, this was her secret base, a place to bury those unspoken desires.