“I can’t tie this ribbon…” Shen Mo’s voice was as thin as a mosquito’s buzz.
“You can’t even put on clothes properly? Fine, I’ll help you.” Qin Shuying’s lips curled into a playful arc. “What a useless waste.”
She stepped in to help.
Layer by layer, the garments of a woman gradually covered his lean yet elegantly proportioned body.
Undergarments, slip dress… When that moon-white flowing-cloud wide-sleeved outer robe finally settled on his shoulders, the wide sleeves drifted like clouds, and the cascading skirts trailed along the floor.
The soft fabric clung to the curves of his body, bringing an entirely unfamiliar sense of restraint.
“Look up.” Qin Shuying commanded.
Shen Mo stiffly raised his head inch by inch. His disheveled black hair hung over his shoulders, contrasting with the moon-white dress.
Qin Shuying was momentarily stunned. The shadow of that timid househusband was nowhere to be seen in the person before her.
The glossy mermaid-gauze red dress clung tightly to a body that was originally male but had become lean and resilient from years of labor.
The skirt layers rippled like water waves with every movement.
Because of shame, Shen Mo’s cheeks flushed with two patches of red.
His originally heroic eyebrows had been trimmed slender and curved.
As his eyes moved, they shimmered with moisture from nervousness.
His lips, touched with vermillion, pouted slightly as if asking for a kiss.
The most striking part was that his Adam’s apple, originally male, was hidden by the high collar of the mermaid gauze, leaving only a long, fair neck exposed.
Against the red dress, it was dazzlingly white.
Qin Shuying felt her throat tighten. She had originally wanted to tease this man, but now a wave of heat surged from deep within her.
Damn it, just a while ago she had…
Now she especially felt that Su Wan’er was wasting a gift from heaven. Keeping such a beautiful creature at home—she must be blind.
“You… what are you looking at…” Shen Mo, creeped out by her predatory gaze, instinctively turned to hide himself, but his awkward movements only gave him a clumsy charm.
She walked up, took Shen Mo’s wrist without argument, and pulled him to a bronze mirror. “Don’t move.”
Qin Shuying’s voice was hoarse as she commanded.
She circled him from behind, rested her chin on his shoulder, and looked into the mirror. “See clearly, this is you.”
She pinched the soft flesh at Shen Mo’s waist with a malicious finger.
“How beautiful… Shen Mo, tell me, if Su Wan’er saw you like this, would she regret not cherishing you these seven years?”
Shen Mo’s whole body stiffened. The self in the mirror was both unfamiliar and enchantingly seductive.
The woman behind him was like a coiled poisonous snake.
“Peak Master Qin, please show some respect.” Shen Mo tried to struggle, but his voice carried a hint of coquettishness from nervousness, which even startled himself.
“Respect?” Qin Shuying laughed low, her warm breath spraying on his ear.
“After what we’ve been through? Is there any part of you I haven’t seen?”
“Why pretend to be modest? Besides, in half a month, when you go to the Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion, don’t you need me? There, no one will see you as a man. Everyone will stare at you like hungry wolves. With you looking like this, if I weren’t protecting you, you’d be eaten down to the bones in less than half an hour.”
She let go, stepped back, and scanned Shen Mo’s entire body greedily.
“Soften your waist a little more. Make your eyes a little more seductive. The Flower Queen of the Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion won’t be as stiff as a block of wood like you.”
Shen Mo took a deep breath, forcing down the urge to run away.
For Su Wan’er, he had to endure.
“Enough, stop wriggling. If you keep wriggling, I’ll have you right now.” Qin Shuying coldly shouted, gathering his loose hair behind his head.
She picked up a simple white magnolia hairpin and pinned his long hair into a loose single bun at the back of his head, leaving a few strands of broken hair to fall naturally by his cheeks.
Then she took a pair of small pearl earrings and put them on his earlobes.
Finally, she dipped her fingertip in a colorless lip balm that carried a faint floral fragrance—she had taken it out at some point—and very lightly applied it to his pale, bloodless lips.
Having done all this, Qin Shuying took two steps back to admire her own handiwork.
In the quiet room, a wall of ice as clear as a mirror had condensed. Shen Mo was guided to turn and look at the ice mirror.
In the mirror stood a tall, slender figure in wide-sleeved flowing robes and a trailing skirt.
Hair half-knotted, jade hairpin askew, earrings gently swaying.
Breathtakingly beautiful, and also coldly unfamiliar.
“Not bad.” Qin Shuying praised with an objective, evaluative tone.
“This face, this bone structure—wearing women’s clothing has a unique charm. With a little embellishment, it’s enough to pass as real.”
“Your walking, sitting, and moving still need practice. A woman’s gait should be light and reserved, with slightly smaller steps. When walking, let the skirt move slightly—no swinging, no jingling of ornaments. Do not take large strides. When sitting, you can soften your back a little, but do not slump. When speaking, your gaze should fall downward or straight ahead—do not stare too directly or let it wander.”
After two hours of practice, Shen Mo’s ankles ached and his neck was stiff, but he was penalized with extra practice for not meeting the standards.
After that, she threw him several sets of women’s dresses made of light, smooth fabric with extremely tailored cuts, in colors ranging from elegant to gaudy.
She ordered Shen Mo to try them on one by one, her cold gaze like a ruler measuring every curve of his body.
Where they didn’t fit, Qin Shuying personally adjusted them on the spot, using spirit power as needle and thread.
Shen Mo went from initial shame and anger to gradual desensitization.
He grew more and more proficient at changing clothes, even beginning to appreciate his feminine appearance.
Then came makeup and hairstyles.
Qin Shuying personally applied powder, drew his eyebrows, and painted his lips. Her movements were precise, without any hint of intimacy.
Under the embellishment of cosmetics, his angular features softened. His eyebrows were trimmed thin and graceful, his lips colored to a tender, dewy red.
Hairstyles were even more tedious—from simple hanging chignons to complex cloud-like buns, each one practiced on his head.
Every time his hair was pulled and fixed, it stripped away another mark of his male identity.
The hardest part was the voice.
He practiced raising his breath, searching for a clear yet gentle tone somewhere between a boy and a girl.
Qin Shuying used some unknown elixir combined with spirit power to forcibly smooth Shen Mo’s voice, but it was still a male voice.
“The Flower Queen selection in the Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion isn’t just about a pretty face. Qin, chess, calligraphy, painting, song, dance, poetry, tea—you need to be proficient in at least one or two, and they must be able to command the stage.”
Before his family fell from grace, Shen Mo had been somewhat literate. He had a slight talent for painting, but his skill on the zither was only average.
“Your facial expressions also need attention.” Qin Shuying continued, her gaze falling on his tightly pressed lips that betrayed his humiliation.
“Since you’re pretending, do it thoroughly. Do you think this bitter, resentful look like you’ve suffered a great injustice won’t make people suspect you? Even if you’re unwilling inside, you must learn to be… submissive. At least in front of others.”
Submissive…
Shen Mo closed his eyes, relaxed his clenched jaw, and forced a smile.
He was like a finely crafted white porcelain beauty vase, but one covered in cracks.
Qin Shuying nodded in satisfaction.
Yet a faint pain pricked in her heart.
“Alright, that’s enough for today.” Her voice returned to its usual businesslike coldness.
“The Flower Queen Competition is still over ten days away. During this time, you can return to Jiaoyue Peak to say goodbye to Su Wan’er. Her days of owning you are numbered…”
She walked to the door of the quiet room, paused briefly without turning back, and casually tossed out a final line: “From now on, you belong only to me.”
Back at Jiaoyue Peak, Su Wan’er was reading by the lamp.
Since entrusting Han Yi with that matter that day, she had spent most of her time flipping through ancient texts, searching for a way to dissolve the curse, while secretly adjusting her own condition to suppress the increasingly stubborn curse power backlash.
But all this she carefully concealed, not revealing much in front of outsiders.
Footsteps sounded outside the door.
She recognized them as Shen Mo’s.
“Back? Are you done with the Spirit Beast Garden?” She smiled, her eyes curving.
Shen Mo stood at the door, looking at her. The lamplight fell on her face, illuminating it like warm jade.
She looked fine—her complexion wasn’t too bad, the corners of her lips still carried a smile.
But he knew: it was only a facade.
“Shu.”
Su Wan’er put down her book and gently reached out to touch his face.
He sat down beside her.
“You’ve lost weight. Have you been tired these past few days?”
Shen Mo didn’t speak. He just rubbed against her hand like a little animal seeking comfort.
Su Wan’er laughed at his appearance. “What’s wrong? So clingy today.”
Shen Mo still didn’t answer. He just looked at her, at the gentle smile in the depths of her eyes.
“Wan’er… I… I want…”
His voice carried an unprecedented, direct, and burning desire.
Su Wan’er was slightly startled.
Shen Mo had always been gentle and introverted. Even in bed, he was more compliant and cooperative, rarely taking the initiative like this.
That intense emotion spilling from his eyes made her heart skip a beat.
“Mo’er? What’s wrong with you…”
Before she could finish, Shen Mo leaned in.
The kiss was very light, like a dragonfly skimming the water. But the ripples on that water surface spread out circle by circle, rippling into her heart.
Her body went slightly soft, her breathing quickened.
When the kiss ended, Shen Mo panted lightly and pulled back a little. His eyes were shimmering, the corners red.
Under Su Wan’er’s still-dazed gaze, he guided her gently up from the chair and led her toward the wide, soft bed in the inner room.
Red candles burned high, bed curtains hung low.
The air was thick with a gradually warming, lingering intimacy.
“Mo’er?” Su Wan’er’s steps faltered.
He didn’t explain, only acted.
The candlelight danced on his jade-white skin, outlining a lean yet beautiful body.
Her breathing was completely thrown off.
She was no inexperienced maiden. Though they were often apart, they had been intimate frequently in recent days.
But this Shen Mo was completely different from before.
It was a stunning contrast!
What woman wouldn’t like this? Demure and virtuous in front of others, but in front of her…
The impact was far more seductive than any direct invitation.
“Tonight… let me… love you well, alright?”
Without waiting for her answer, he stepped forward again and gently laid her down on the soft brocade quilt, then mounted her.
What happened next completely exceeded Su Wan’er’s understanding.
He seemed like a different person. His kiss was domineering, fierce, carrying a hunger that wanted to devour her.
It plunged deep, tangled with her tongue, even causing a bit of pain, yet it brought a trembling numbness.
Shen Mo panted, “Wan’er… Wan’er…”
His hands gripped her waist like iron tongs, like a drowning man clutching at a last piece of driftwood.
He wanted to repay all the guilt of losing his yin essence that night, to pay it all back in this single night.