That night, as Zhao Ci was getting ready for bed, he received two QR code screenshots from Pei Mingjing. They were tickets to a painting exhibition held in Nancheng that week by Guochao Art.
Zhao Ci had been interested in the exhibition since last week but hadn’t managed to get tickets. He had meant to ask his sister, Zhao Jia, to see if his “brother-in-law” could help him secure a couple of tickets.
His “brother-in-law,” who had visited once during the Spring Festival, was only 19 years old and already a member of Guochao Art, the largest Chinese painting association in the country.
However, with everything going on these past few days, Zhao Ci had forgotten about it.
He sent a voice message, surprised: “Brother Mingjing, how did you get these?” After all, he hadn’t mentioned it to him at all.
Pei Mingjing replied, [Through a friend.]
Zhao Ci thought that perhaps Brother Mingjing felt guilty for making him cry today. His heart warmed, mixed with a bit of guilt, knowing that the whole situation had been his fault.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to follow any plot points tomorrow. In the book, his character had angered Brother Mingjing, so he didn’t have the courage to try and seduce him for now.
Thinking about the day, Zhao Ci still felt a lingering fear. Hugging his blanket, he typed, [Thank you, Brother Mingjing~ [Little Bean Kiss] xN]
Zhao Ci added, [Then, then Brother Mingjing, can you go with me the day after tomorrow?]
Pei Mingjing replied, [Mm.]
Pei Mingjing added, [Sure.]
Zhao Ci said, [Brother Mingjing, you’re the best [Little Bean Kiss] xN. I’m going to sleep now.]
Pei Mingjing replied, [Sleep well, good night.]
After a moment of hesitation, Pei Mingjing sent, [[Little Bean Kiss]].
Zhao Ci beamed and happily turned off his phone.
…
The next day, Zhao Ci assumed that since his ulterior motives for English tutoring had been exposed, Pei Mingjing wouldn’t tutor him anymore. He didn’t think much of it, but early in the morning Pei Mingjing showed up at his house, saying he had something to do in the afternoon and would tutor him in the morning instead.
This was terrible news, and Zhao Ci immediately deflated.
His mom, Wei Xinlan, stifled a laugh and asked Pei Mingjing, “Mingjing, have you had breakfast?”
Pei Mingjing shook his head and sat down next to Zhao Ci without any formality. Noticing a bit of milk foam at the corner of Zhao Ci’s mouth, he picked up a napkin and wiped it away.
Zhao Ci gave him a soft smile. “Thank you, Brother Mingjing.”
Wei Xinlan watched this scene, an idea suddenly stirring in her, and joked, “Mingjing, why don’t you just take our Xiaoci as your wife?”
The air suddenly went still.
Zhao Ci quickly glanced at Pei Mingjing, worried that Pei Mingjing might think he had encouraged his mom to say that. He hurriedly said, “Mom, what are you talking about? We’re both guys.”
Pei Mingjing frowned slightly but said nothing.
Wei Xinlan laughed. “Just kidding, eat your breakfast, eat your breakfast.”
Maintaining her smile, Wei Xinlan sighed inwardly. Ever since Pei Mingjing had been brought back to Nancheng by her elder sister, she had seen how much this usually reserved nephew cared for and doted on Zhao Ci.
Given her son’s unique condition, she presumed he was fated never to marry. If there was a man willing to love him and stay by his side, she would be at ease as his mother.
To lighten the mood, Wei Xinlan asked, “Is Sister Aorong still on her business trip?”
“No, she’s not back yet.”
…
After breakfast, Wei Xinlan instructed the housekeeper to cut some fruit and bring it to the bedroom. Then, picking up her bag, she encouraged her son before leaving, “Xiaoci, study hard.”
As Zhao Ci followed Pei Mingjing upstairs, he explained, “Brother Mingjing, I didn’t tell my mom to say that.”
Pei Mingjing replied, “I didn’t misunderstand.” He could naturally see through it.
Zhao Ci breathed a sigh of relief, then thought about the impending three-hour English study session…
“Brother Mingjing, I don’t want to study,” Zhao Ci said, deflated.
Pei Mingjing glanced at him and shook his head. “Xiaoci, do you think you can pass the college English proficiency test at your current level?”
“…” No, he couldn’t… Zhao Ci’s face crumpled. He didn’t want to study for three hours, so he negotiated, “How about we cut it down a bit, maybe an hour and ten minutes?”
Pei Mingjing didn’t respond, walking into Zhao Ci’s bedroom without agreeing.
“Brother Mingjing…” Zhao Ci called out, drawing out the name.
Seeing it was useless, Zhao Ci flopped onto the bed, whining, “Brother Mingjing, how about an hour and a half?” He seemed determined not to go to the desk unless his demand was met.
Pei Mingjing sighed, “Are you studying for yourself or for me?”
“An hour and a half, just an hour and a half,” Zhao Ci said, flailing like a non-swimmer, his slender white legs thrashing on the bed in protest.
He was still wearing the pajama pants his sister Zhao Jia had bought him last year.
Zhao Ci had many clothes, but he liked the things his sister bought him the most.
The pants that fit perfectly last year now only reached mid-thigh, and they were quite loose. As Zhao Ci moved around, his legs were almost entirely exposed.
Pei Mingjing had never noticed before, but today he realized that Zhao Ci’s legs were as flawless as his pretty face.
Without the body hair most men have, they were snow-white and slender, slightly fleshy despite being thin, especially the soft flesh on the sides of his thighs that wobbled as he whined.
If you covered his upper body, you might mistake them for a girl’s legs.
After watching for a while, Pei Mingjing inexplicably looked away as Zhao Ci continued to call out softly, “Brother Mingjing, Brother Mingjing.”
Pei Mingjing adjusted his glasses and sighed, “Alright.”
Zhao Ci immediately beamed, sitting up on the bed and sweetly flattering him: “Brother Mingjing, you’re the best.”
Pei Mingjing glanced at him, then quickly looked away and opened his laptop. “Go change your pants.”
“Why? What’s wrong with my pants?” Zhao Ci looked down. “They’re fine. My sister bought them last year, and they’re comfortable.”
They were a bit short, but since he was at home, it didn’t matter.
“Just change them,” Pei Mingjing said flatly, “or it’ll be three hours.”
“…Got it.” Zhao Ci headed to the closet, grumbling inwardly. What did his pants do to deserve this? Was Brother Mingjing still upset about the past few days and picking on him on purpose?
…
In the afternoon, Zhao Ci spent a few hours in the art studio practicing his coloring. When it was about time, he met up with Zhou Li and Ge Jiahao to play basketball at their old high school.
Those two were Zhao Ci’s closest friends besides Brother Mingjing. The three of them had been in the same class from middle school to high school, and they all got into A University. Although they were in different departments, they were at least at the same school.
After packing up his art supplies, Zhao Ci went to the bathroom to take a shower. He paid special attention to his chest, wondering if the system’s suppression had taken effect. It had only been a day, so it was hard to tell.
However, Zhao Ci blushed as he touched it, suspecting that if it grew, he wouldn’t be able to play basketball. And in this weather, he couldn’t wear a jacket while playing.
Lost in thought, Zhao Ci considered many ideas before finally opening a drawer at his desk. Inside was a roll of gauze.
He had bought it back when he was playing PUBG.
Embarrassed, Zhao Ci bound his chest with the gauze, satisfied with the reflection in the mirror. Apart from a slight bulge, it was mostly unnoticeable, though it was a bit tight.
When he arrived at No. 1 High School, it was still summer vacation, and the school was deserted.
Seeing the bougainvillea-covered corridors of the teaching building, he felt a bit melancholic: he had already graduated.
On the basketball court, Zhou Li and the others had already started playing. There were a few other people he didn’t know but whose faces seemed familiar, probably from other classes.
After playing for almost an hour, Zhao Ci was exhausted, sitting on the ground as if he had been drenched in the rain.
“Why are you wearing a T-shirt and not a jersey?” Ge Jiahao tossed him a bottle of mineral water.
Zhao Ci wanted to, but he mumbled something vague and tilted his head back to drink the water.
Ge Jiahao and the others continued playing for another hour. Zhao Ci joined in for about ten more minutes before sitting on the sidelines to watch.
He had been sick often as a child, and during his senior year, he was mostly in training camps outside, so his stamina wasn’t as good as theirs.
By the time they finished, it was already evening.
The three of them lay on the lush green soccer field next door, resting their heads on their arms, enjoying the breeze and watching the picturesque sunset.
“I often see online that the most beautiful sunset of anyone’s life is the one from their high school years,” Ge Jiahao suddenly said.
“Isn’t university also a campus?” Zhou Li replied.
“A sports student like you wouldn’t understand,” Zhao Ci said. “University and high school feel different.”
“Tsk tsk, art students are so poetic,” Zhou Li teased, nudging Zhao Ci’s arm with his elbow.
Zhao Ci ignored him.
“Why do I smell milk?” Zhou Li said, leaning closer to Zhao Ci and sniffing. “Sure enough, it’s coming from you.”
Ge Jiahao smelled it too. “I smelled it while we were playing basketball. Xiaoci, why is the scent getting stronger?”
As boys who were always slinging their arms around each other, they all knew about Zhao Ci’s natural, milky body scent.
Zhao Ci shook his head, looking troubled. “I don’t know.” He had only recently noticed the scent becoming stronger.
Suddenly, a thought struck him: could it be because of his chest growth?
“So what if it’s stronger?” Zhou Li said, brushing Zhao Ci’s sweaty bangs aside to comfort him. “Look at us, we all smell like sweat, but your milk scent is so nice.”
“Xiaoci really doesn’t smell like sweat,” Ge Jiahao laughed. “And his skin is even fairer and smoother than a girl’s.”
Lying in the middle, Zhao Ci joked around, and the three of them ended up much closer together. He pushed them away. “Move over, it’s too hot.”
After some playful banter, Ge Jiahao suddenly asked, “Hey, Xiaoci, I heard your Brother Mingjing, Pei Mingjing, started a finance company?”
Zhou Li looked at him curiously too.
Zhao Ci nodded, puzzled. “How did you know?” He hadn’t mentioned it to them.
Ge Jiahao explained, “A schoolmate went to the business center to see his dad and saw Pei Mingjing at the company across the street. The schoolmate asked an employee who had just come out and found out that Pei Mingjing is the boss. The news has spread all over the school group chat.”
Zhou Li sighed, “You really can’t compare people. Some are running finance companies at 18, while we’re just lying here talking big.”
“Don’t compare yourself to my Brother Mingjing. He’s always been smart,” Zhao Ci said nonchalantly.
“That’s true,” Ge Jiahao and Zhou Li agreed. Pei Mingjing had always ranked first in school and had never once come down from his pedestal. Their school was, after all, the best in Nancheng and one of the very best in the country.
And he was handsome and tall too.
“Speaking of Pei Mingjing, who is this guy? I was shocked when I saw him; he looks exactly like Pei Mingjing,” Zhou Li said, sitting up and pulling out his phone to show Zhao Ci a photo.
Ge Jiahao leaned over to look. “This is Pei Mingjing, right? No, the hairstyle and vibe are different.”
In the photo, a very tall guy in a white basketball uniform with a matching headband and a slightly long wolf-cut mullet was standing outside the three-point line, making a shot.
In another photo, the guy was lounging lazily in the resting area, his gaze indifferent, arms draped over the back of the seats, holding a bottle of mineral water.
The angles were all frontal, and his height, build, and features were uncannily similar to Pei Mingjing’s.
Zhao Ci was stunned for a moment. This was Tan Yanlin, Pei Mingjing’s twin brother, his other “brother.”
When Zhao Ci was eight, Brother Mingjing’s father had an affair, leading to their parents’ divorce. Zhao Ci remembered going to Beicheng with his parents because his eldest aunt, Pei Mingjing’s mom, was fighting for custody with his eldest uncle by marriage.
Both sides wanted custody of the twins, leading to an ugly and unpleasant battle. Eventually, they compromised, each taking one child.
At only eight years old, neither brother wanted to go with their dad. The eldest uncle by marriage knew that Pei Mingjing, who had taken his wife’s surname since birth, wouldn’t change it. He also didn’t much care for the temperament of the child who took after his wife, so he chose Tan Yanlin, who shared his temperament and surname.
For many years after that, Tan Yanlin never returned to Nancheng. Zhao Ci’s memories of him stopped at a brother who had loved to make him cry on purpose when they were small, and at something that had happened between them when Tan Yanlin visited Nancheng for the first time at 16, years after their parents’ divorce.
Overall, Zhao Ci didn’t have a good impression of this brother, but thankfully, he didn’t have to follow his plotline.
The photo was from the A University finance department’s freshman group chat. Although school hadn’t started yet, many enthusiastic seniors had created groups to answer new students’ questions and let them meet and make friends in advance.
“He’s my Brother Mingjing’s twin brother,” Zhao Ci briefly explained to them.
It was getting late, and the three of them, with their stomachs growling, went to a restaurant outside the school for dinner. By the time Zhao Ci got home, it was past eight in the evening. His parents were video-calling with his sister Zhao Jia, who was traveling abroad. Zhao Ci joined in to chat with his sister for a while before heading back to his room.
After removing the gauze, Zhao Ci felt a huge relief. His chest was marked red from the tightness, and he realized he couldn’t keep it on for long. Sometimes, especially while playing basketball, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. But did this mean he could never play sports again?
A thought that had occurred to him earlier in the day flashed through his mind, sending a shiver down his spine. He shook his head and went to take a shower. Afterward, he lay comfortably in bed.
He was about to browse Kuaiyin when the system suddenly spoke: [Today, being ignored by Pei Mingjing all day, Zhao Ci was both furious and hesitant. But thinking of Pei Mingjing’s peerlessly handsome face, he couldn’t bear to give up so easily.
Zhao Ci tossed and turned, weighing the pros and cons. Ultimately, he decided to keep up his skin hunger act to the end…]
Zhao Ci lost all interest in browsing Kuaiyin. In the book, he had persistently lied to Brother Mingjing about having skin hunger, until an exasperated Brother Mingjing finally took him to the hospital for a check-up and a consultation with a psychologist.
Throughout, he had been pretending. The psychologist concluded that while the possibility of him lying couldn’t be ruled out, neither could the possibility that he really had it, and still suggested that Pei Mingjing show him more care.
Zhao Ci could only learn a bit of the plot at a time, and he wasn’t sure what would happen next. However, this incident only increased Pei Mingjing’s irritation with him.
Every time Zhao Ci completed a plot point, the system would collect some cannon fodder points. How the story might veer off outside the plot points wasn’t within its requirements.
At least until he moved to the next world, Zhao Ci wanted to continue living normally. He didn’t want to ruin his relationship with Brother Mingjing.
The plot required the result, “Make Pei Mingjing believe Zhao Ci has skin hunger,” without caring about the process.
Zhao Ci thought he couldn’t do it like in the book. After much deliberation, he considered pretending to be sick to bring up the condition.
No, he wasn’t a good actor, and Brother Mingjing was smart enough to see through it at a glance.
Acting cute?
No, Brother Mingjing would say he was being ridiculous again.
…
After thinking it over, Zhao Ci had a splitting headache. He picked up his phone and decided to search online for the specific symptoms of skin hunger. If he was going to pretend, he needed to act the part around Brother Mingjing, making it easier to follow the plot later.
He found some information and used his Apple Pencil to take notes on his iPad.
Feeling trapped in loneliness, low self-esteem, craving affection…
It seemed vague. What about specific behaviors?
Unable to find more, Zhao Ci downloaded an anonymous forum he had heard of but never used. After some thought, he posted a question: “Hello everyone, does anyone know how to fake skin hunger?”
The post quickly received replies, with people asking if he was male or female and what he intended to do.
Zhao Ci replied that he was male and responded to someone asking if it was targeted at a specific person.
He said, “Sort of…”
Unexpectedly, the replies gradually changed.
“Where did this scheming little flirty bottom come from?”
“I suggest you don’t… It’s easy to get caught.”
“I like flirty types like the OP. Leave a contact, and if you look good, let’s meet?”
“Seriously, don’t. One lie leads to countless others. Pretend and you’ll just be waiting to get screwed.”
“I’ve already imagined a ten-thousand-word novel, thanks.”
“OP is so thirsty, hahaha. Once you start, can you update us on your progress here?”
“Just read a couple of BL novels, and you’ll get it.”
“Wants to be hugged, skin contact. Can’t let people touch easily, touching leads to various reactions, overall it feels quite nice.”
“Let me tell you, OP, there’s a week every month when you desperately crave affection and your body yearns to be unlocked; otherwise, there’s a risk of dying.”
“Upstairs, isn’t that ABO?”
“…”
Zhao Ci’s face felt a bit warm, almost making him doubt whether he had stumbled onto the wrong website. He managed to pick out a few useful responses, thanked the contributors, and quickly uninstalled the forum.
Still unable to find a way to convince Pei Mingjing, Zhao Ci stared at the “causes” he had marked on his iPad, feeling troubled. To persuade Brother Mingjing, the logic had to be sound.
However, Zhao Ci had been pampered since childhood, never having faced any real hardships.
The only setback in his life was the present one: being bound to the cannon fodder system.
Ah, he glanced down. And there was also the fact that, as a man, he had grown this embarrassing thing.
Wait… Suddenly, an idea popped into Zhao Ci’s mind, and his gaze shifted downward.
He was intersex, and only his parents and older sister knew about it.
Brother Mingjing, Brother Mingjing didn’t know he was intersex…
…!