Crossdress Ch17

Xu Yan was happily preparing to withdraw his earnings from the platform. That way, he could finally prepay his grandma’s hospitalization fees and even have some leftover—no more getting chased by the hospital every month for bills.

But just as he clicked the withdrawal button, a line of small text appeared below: “You’ve reached the withdrawal limit for this month. Please try again next month.”

So the platform only allows one withdrawal per month?

Why didn’t it say that the first time?

His excitement was short-lived. His smile fell again—looks like he’d have to wait until next month to reunite with his precious money.

At noon, Shang Jia came to find Xu Yan for lunch and handed him a package before leaving.

“I was cleaning at home a few days ago and found a bunch of clothes again—brand new, never worn. I bought them before I opened the store as design references, but I don’t need them anymore,” Shang Jia said. “I picked a few for you. You’d definitely look good in them.”

Xu Yan didn’t take it. “Senior, you’ve already given me so many outfits. It feels like a waste.”

They were all really pretty dresses, but he had only worn each of them once for photos before hiding them in the back of his closet—along with the ones he bought for himself, never to be worn again.

Shang Jia countered, “How could it be a waste? On you, they reach their full potential. Leaving them to collect dust at my place is the real waste. And you look so nice in them, it lifts people’s spirits.”

That line sounded familiar to Xu Yan—year had said something like that too.

That seeing him made him feel happy.

Shang Jia added, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll have a chance to wear them again someday.”

Xu Yan shook his head. “Probably not.”

He couldn’t think of such a situation.

Shang Jia said, “Well, if you were to buy them yourself, it’d cost money. And it’s not easy for you to earn money, is it? Look at your skinny arms and legs—save your money for good food.”

Xu Yan said quietly, “Senior, actually… I’ve got some money now.”

He just couldn’t withdraw it yet.

Shang Jia stuffed the package into his hands. She knew his family situation well. “Alright, alright, you’ve got money. Then save up more. I’ve got to meet a professor, can’t chat long!”

With that, she hurried off. Xu Yan carried the package back to the dorm.

The dorm was empty. He expertly locked the door behind him and began unpacking the dresses.

There were six in total, each one delicate and beautiful.

He took off the packaging and laid them neatly across the desk and chairs to fold and store in the wardrobe.

His phone buzzed—he checked the message.

It was from his alternate account: a photo, seemingly taken at some conference or expo. The image centered on a large screen onstage, with the camera angle clearly from someone sitting in the front row. Below, the sharp crease of tailored trousers wrapped around long legs—the thighs slightly spread, the posture lazy and relaxed, exuding a certain elite and ascetic allure.

The angle made it look like the photographer was sitting on that person’s lap.

Usually it was him sending pictures to year, but this was the first time year had sent one back.

Xu Yan knew almost nothing about year, other than that he was always busy with work.

He stared, curious, and tapped to enlarge the photo—only for it to be recalled a second later.

His curiosity, just sparked, was snuffed out abruptly, like a flame being pinched. Xu Yan felt as if a cat paw had lightly scratched at his heart—itchy and uncomfortable.

Why send a photo just to retract it? He hadn’t even gotten a good look.

When no follow-up message came, Xu Yan put down his phone and continued folding dresses.

One of them got all crumpled while he was folding it, so he grabbed his phone again to ask.

[Yanyan]: What did you just delete, big bro?

The reply came quickly.

[year]: Sent it by mistake.

Xu Yan pouted. Who knew which pretty girl he meant to send it to—he probably had multiple little bloggers on his phone, not just him.

[Yanyan]: Who was it meant for?

[year]: You saw it?

[Yanyan]: Nope~

[year]: Conference material for a colleague.

Xu Yan squeezed his phone. Liar. That clearly wasn’t what it was.

[Yanyan]: Are you in another meeting?

[year]: At a networking conference.

Xu Yan typed a compliment without emotion.

[Yanyan]: Wow, so impressive.

[year]: Wow, so perfunctory.

[Yanyan]: No really, you’re amazing! [sparkling eyes emoji] I’ve never been to one, but I know only the best in the industry get invited, and you were sitting front row! [rose/rose]

Xu Yan stared at the screen. Surely that didn’t sound perfunctory.

year sent him a location link: Beishi International Talent Exchange Center.

[year]: It’s pretty close to your school.

[year]: Want me to come pick you up?

Xu Yan’s eyes widened and he blinked slowly at his phone.

[Yanyan]: How do you know what school I go to?

He was pretty sure he’d never revealed that info.

[year]: Your IP shows you’re in Beishi.

[year]: You’re so well-behaved—must be a good student.

[year]: Aren’t you at Beishi University?

Xu Yan exhaled a bit—so he had just guessed.

Not wanting to reveal more, he lied smoothly.

[Yanyan]: Nope, I go to the neighboring Political Law Academy.

[Yanyan]: And I’ve got class soon, so I can’t go~

[year]: Is that so.

Xu Yan’s heart sank. He always felt like every time year asked something back, it was as if he already knew the answer—like he could see through Xu Yan’s lies through the screen.

But they didn’t know each other in real life, and online, your identity was what you chose to give.

[Yanyan]: Yep, that’s right.

[year]: Still in your dorm?

[Yanyan]: Uh-huh, just organizing some clothes.

[year]: Skirts?

Xu Yan snapped a photo of the half-folded skirts and sent it.

[Yanyan]: How’d you know? These are for future shoots. Do you think they’re pretty?

[year]: You bought them?

[Yanyan]: My senior gave them to me. She’s super, super kind to me.

[year]: I’m not kind to you?

Xu Yan didn’t quite know how to reply. That almost sounded like… jealousy?

[Yanyan]: You’re kind to me too~

Soon after, the other person sent back the photo with one item circled—a sailor uniform.

[year]: This one’s too small.

Xu Yan picked up the sailor outfit and looked it over. It was labeled M size, but seemed a bit on the larger side. He should be able to wear it.

Besides, how could the other person tell just by looking at a photo?

[Yanyan]: It’s not small~

[year]: You tried it?

Okay, truthfully… he hadn’t.

[Yanyan]: I’ll try it now, then.

Xu Yan took off his clothes and started putting on the white-and-blue sailor dress.
It was a snug fit—he could get into it, but the soft, thin fabric stretched tightly over his chest and shoulders. The waist felt a bit constricted too. He had to inhale deeply just to zip up the side. His narrow waist was so slim a single hand could span it from behind.

The skirt was short, the hem brushing his pale, slightly soft thighs. Below were two long, straight legs, pale and tender, with a soft pink at the knees.

[year]: Done?

He actually guessed right again. Xu Yan hadn’t expected year to know his size better than he did himself.

[Yanyan]: Totally not small.

No way was he going to admit year was right—he was sticking to his guns.

[year]: Let me see.

[Yanyan]: No need~ it’s really not small.

[year]: So you’re lying to me again?

Xu Yan bit his lip and took some mirror selfies. He tugged at the top and skirt to make the fit look less tight, then sent one of the pictures over.

Feeling a little smug, he typed:

[Yanyan]: You guessed wrong.

[year]: Alright, my bad.

[year]: But it doesn’t look good. Don’t wear it again.

Was it really that bad?

Xu Yan had already taken it off. He looked over the photo again. Aside from the skirt being a bit short and snug, it actually looked quite youthful and pure.

Was his sense of aesthetics off?

[Yanyan]: Alright…

Though he agreed, the slight disappointment in his tone was hard to hide.

He finished folding the rest of the skirts and stored them in the closet.

In the afternoon, Xu Yan did have class. During the lecture, he snuck a glance at the photo album again.

Eventually, he nudged Shen Nanli and showed him the photo.

“Nanli, do you think this skirt is ugly?”

Shen Nanli took one look and, like a sneaky thief, quickly snatched the phone to get a better look. After admiring it, he gave a big thumbs-up.

“Stunning.”

Xu Yan took his phone back, rested his chin on both hands, and stared blankly at the desk—lost in thought.

He barely paid attention to the next two classes.

That night, back in the dorm, he did some homework and edited some footage before washing up and climbing into bed.

He checked his alt account—year’s last reply was still there, with no new messages.

During the week-long National Day break, most people either traveled or went home. Few would stay on campus.

Xu Yan had already told his grandma he would go home. One of his professors had rescheduled class, so he had a few free days to leave early.

Zhao Qingji also bought tickets to go home. Xu Yan asked Li Huaiche if he had plans.

“There’s a competition in Europe. Our department is sending students to represent Beishi University. I didn’t want to go, but the professor insisted—we were short one person.”

Xu Yan was envious. “Wow, going abroad!”

Li Huaiche sighed dramatically. “It’s a 7-day locked-in competition. You can’t leave the venue, no signal, all personal devices handed in to prevent cheating. It’s like being imprisoned for a week!”

Zhao Qingji: “Still, at least you’re imprisoned in Europe. The facilities must be nice.”

Li Huaiche: “…”

“But Wen Sinian’s going too. We’re teaming up, so we probably won’t need to worry about rankings. He won gold before.”

Xu Yan glanced at the empty bed across from him. He hadn’t expected Wen Sinian—who was almost never in the dorm—to still step up for the school.

“He’s amazing,” Xu Yan said.

Li Huaiche added, “He moved his stuff in right after term started, and said he’d drop by sometimes… but we haven’t seen him at all. Have either of you met him?”

Zhao Qingji: “Never.”

Xu Yan: “…Me neither.”

Although, he actually had encountered him early in the semester—he’d just hidden on the bed, and Sinian probably didn’t know he was there.

Xu Yan and Shen Nanli left campus together to go to the train station. As soon as Xu Yan boarded, his alt account started receiving over a dozen shipping notifications.

He checked, puzzled. He couldn’t tell what had been purchased.

A message came in:

[year]: Sent to your school. Pick it up tomorrow.

[year]: Ask a friend for help.

Xu Yan was stunned—over a dozen packages. He definitely couldn’t carry all that alone.

[Yanyan]: But I’m already on my way home… I can’t get them tomorrow.

[year]: That’s fine. I told the courier station to hold them until you’re back.

Xu Yan still hadn’t quite recovered from the surprise. Just two days ago, year had said he looked bad in skirts and went radio silent—now he was suddenly sending tons of packages?

[Yanyan]: These… are all for me?

[year]: Mm.

[Yanyan]: What are they?

[year]: Skirts.

[year]: Didn’t you say I’m kind to you?

Xu Yan looked at his phone. That was something he said—but he’d meant his senior, not that year should also start sending things.

[year]: From now on, only wear the skirts I give you. Okay?

The train had started moving. The cabin was noisy. Xu Yan’s heart beat faster. He locked his phone and turned toward the window, annoyed by his own anxious reaction.

Outside, the cityscape blurred and gave way to green fields and farmland.

Xu Yan took a few deep breaths before unlocking his phone again. He examined the shipping notifications more closely.

He typed in one of the tracking numbers—and his eyes widened.

The shipping address wasn’t the Political Law Academy.

It was… Beishi University.

[Yanyan]: Did you maybe type the wrong address?

It seemed like year had been waiting for this question.

[year]: Only dorm desks at Beishi University have tags like that.

Xu Yan suddenly felt very guilty. He quickly scrolled through their chat history.

Sure enough, the last time he sent a skirt photo, the dorm desk tag was faintly visible in the background. It said 3/4, meaning Bed 3 of a four-person room.

Xu Yan bit his lip. His heart started racing again.

So annoying—how was this guy so sharp? It only took a few clues and he’d already guessed the school. If he found out the dorm number too, wouldn’t it be easy to uncover Xu Yan’s real identity?

He was panicking. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time.

[Yanyan]: How do you know other schools don’t use desk tags?

[Yanyan]: Our Political Law Academy has them too!

[year]: I’ve been to the dorms there. Layout’s different.

[year]: You’re a terrible liar.

Xu Yan pouted. He had to admit his lying skills were poor—he’d never been good at deception. His eyes stung a little with frustration.

[year]: Silly little dummy.

Xu Yan locked his phone again.

‘Not replying anymore. I really hate him right now.’