You Look Like My Cousin

Last class of the afternoon.

Politics.

Chen De's most hated subject, bar none.

Not because it was difficult.

It was because the politics teacher had a magical ability to put people to sleep.

That tone was steady, low, and completely devoid of emotion.

Like a chanting machine set to constant speed.

Even flies would have to land on the spot after listening to it.

Chen De lay sprawled over his desk, using his textbook to cover half his face.

His eyelids were making their final stand.

But there had been a gaze fixed on the back of his head the whole time.

He did not even need to turn around to know who it was.

Jiang Ping.

Ever since second period, this guy had been staring at him.

It was not an ordinary "taking a look" kind of stare.

It was the kind of gaze that said, "I'm studying you."

Like a zoo visitor observing a rare species.

Chen De had endured it for one class.

Then two.

Then three.

By the fourth class, his patience had hit rock bottom.

He could feel Jiang Ping's mouth opening.

Then closing again.

Opening again.

Then closing again.

Like a carp that had been hauled ashore and still refused to give up.

Chen De was finally fed up with being stared at.

He turned his head.

On that gentle little face, he forcibly squeezed out a trace of impatience.

Translated, his eyes said four words: Why are you staring?

But that face was simply too pretty.

Instead of saying, "Are you done being annoying?"

His impatient expression looked more like, "Why haven't you praised me yet?"

Jiang Ping opened his mouth again.

Just as he was about to speak.

The bell rang.

It sounded like music from heaven.

Chen De instantly shifted his attention.

Who cared what Jiang Ping wanted to say?

Survival came first.

His bag had already been packed.

Chen De snatched it up, his butt leaving the chair as fast as a fighter jet launching from a catapult.

But Jiang Ping had come prepared this time.

The instant the bell rang, he stood up.

He kicked his chair, sending it sliding half a meter backward.

Ready to block him.

The two of them got up almost simultaneously.

One charged for the exit while the other intercepted him.

For a moment, it looked like a fast break being defended in a basketball game.

Then—

"What are you two doing?"

The politics teacher's voice drifted down from the podium.

The entire class, who had just risen, froze in unison.

"Does the bell ringing mean class is over?"

The politics teacher pushed up his glasses.

"The bell is a reminder for the teacher, not for you."

"I haven't dismissed you. Who gave you permission to move?"

The air instantly froze solid.

Chen De shrank his neck.

One of his feet had already stepped out.

But under the politics teacher's gaze, that foot silently withdrew.

He sat back down unwillingly.

When Jiang Ping saw Chen De sit back down.

He sat down too.

The chair legs scraped across the floor with a piercing screech.

The classroom was as quiet as a funeral hall.

The politics teacher swept his gaze across the classroom.

His eyes lingered an extra second on Chen De and Jiang Ping.

"There's still one final key point I haven't finished explaining."

"Turn to page eighty-seven."

A wave of groans rose from the class.

Chen De opened his textbook.

Page eighty-seven.

He could not take in a single word on it.

Because all his attention was focused on calculating one thing—between the moment the politics teacher dismissed class and the moment he sprinted out of the room, he had a window of no more than three seconds.

Would three seconds be enough to shake Jiang Ping?

Given their current difference in build, it would.

Provided Jiang Ping did not cut him off beforehand.

"Alright, underline this part."

The politics teacher tapped the blackboard.

Chalk dust fluttered down.

"The primary and secondary aspects of a contradiction can transform into one another."

Chen De stared at the blackboard.

Contradiction.

Transformation.

He felt like a living textbook example.

Primary contradiction: how to hide the fact that he was turning into a girl.

Secondary contradiction: how to hide it from Jiang Ping.

But lately, the secondary contradiction was transforming into the primary one.

Because Jiang Ping was just too hard to deal with.

"Chen De."

The politics teacher suddenly called on him.

Chen De jolted all over.

"Here."

"Answer this: what is the identity of contradictions?"

Chen De stood up.

The entire class turned to look at him.

He could see at least five people secretly examining his face.

He was used to it by now.

"The identity of contradictions refers to the nature and tendency of the two opposing sides of a contradiction to be mutually dependent and mutually connected."

Chen De recited it smoothly.

Even though he had absolutely no idea what he was saying.

But his language skills came in handy at times like this.

As long as his tone was confident and his wording sounded professional, teachers generally would not press further.

The politics teacher nodded.

"Sit down."

The moment Chen De sat down, he caught Jiang Ping staring at him again from the corner of his eye.

That look was complicated.

There was concern in it.

There was confusion.

And there was also a tiny something he could not put into words.

Chen De turned away.

Do not look.

If he looked, he would have to respond.

If he responded, he would have to explain.

If he explained, he would have to lie.

His stockpile of lies was running dangerously low.

"Alright, that's it for today. Class dismissed."

The politics teacher finally said those two words.

The whole class erupted into a commotion of relief.

Chen De's reaction speed had reached its physical limit.

His butt left the chair.

His bag went over his shoulder.

His body leaned forward.

One second.

Two seconds.

By the third second, he had already rushed to the classroom door.

But—

"Chen De."

Jiang Ping's voice came from behind him.

He was not shouting.

He was calling him.

His tone was very calm.

So calm that Chen De's steps unconsciously slowed for a beat.

"Wait a moment."

Chen De stood at the door.

He did not turn around.

The flow of students in the hallway surged past him.

He could have blended in.

Disappeared.

Like the last few times.

But for some reason.

He did not move today.

Jiang Ping walked to his side.

He did not grab his arm.

He did not block his path.

He simply stood beside him.

"You today..." Jiang Ping's voice paused.

"What is it?" Chen De turned his head to look at him.

Jiang Ping opened his mouth again.

It closed again.

Chen De's impatience finally erupted.

"Jiang Ping, what exactly have you been trying to say today? You've been staring at me since second period."

"Are you an owl or something? Watching your prey?"

Jiang Ping scratched the back of his head.

"I just... wanted to ask you something."

"Ask."

"Did you... use some new skincare product today?"

Chen De froze.

"What?"

"Your skin's whiter than yesterday." Jiang Ping sounded as conflicted as if he were constipated.

"And your hair, didn't it get lighter again?"

"You've been staring at me since second period just to ask that?"

"I hesitated for a long time over whether I should ask..."

"For three whole classes?"

"Mostly because I couldn't figure out how to phrase it."

Chen De took a deep breath.

"Jiang Ping."

"Yeah."

"Do you know what you look like right now?"

"Like what?"

"Like my mom."

"Isn't your mom—"

"Exactly. Which makes you even more annoying than my mom."

Jiang Ping's mouth twitched.

"I'm just concerned about you."

"Could you maybe express your concern without staring?"

"Then how should I do it?"

"Normally!"

"I think I'm being perfectly normal."

"You think staring at me for three straight classes is normal?"

"I wasn't staring. I was observing."

"Observe your mom—"

Chen De stopped halfway through his sentence.

Because several students in the hallway were looking at them.

One boy had stared at another boy's face for three classes.

And now they were having an intense conversation outside the classroom.

No matter how one looked at it, the scene seemed a little off.

"Come on." Chen De tugged Jiang Ping's sleeve. "Don't talk here."

The two of them walked out of the school building side by side.

The setting sun shone over the sports field.

Their shadows stretched across the ground.

Jiang Ping's shadow was much longer than Chen De's.

The difference had not been particularly obvious a week ago.

Now it was so obvious that even a blind person could see it.

"Dezi."

"Yeah."

"Are you still taking that medicine?"

"I am."

"When can you stop?"

"Soon."

As Chen De finished speaking, an extremely soft voice came from the left shoulder strap of his backpack.

"You've jinxed it again."

Qubi.

Chen De squeezed the backpack strap hard.

Qubi shut up.

Jiang Ping's gaze fell on Chen De's face.

That face really did look better than it had last week.

Whiter.

Smaller.

More refined.

The contours of his features had softened.

There was now an indescribable gentleness between his brows and eyes.

On a girl, this kind of change would be called becoming prettier.

On a boy, it would be called—

"Dezi."

"What now?"

"You look..."

"Look like what?"

Jiang Ping's expression was extremely complicated.

Like he was trying to put together a sentence that would not offend anyone.

"You look a little like my cousin."

Chen De stopped walking.

"Your cousin."

"Yeah, the one who stayed at my house for a few days during last year's National Day holiday."

"Your cousin is five foot eight, has single eyelids, and a square jaw."

"Yeah."

"How do I look anything like her?"

"It's just... the vibe?"

Chen De took a deep breath.

He had two options right now.

First, beat Jiang Ping up.

Second, pretend he had not heard it.

He chose a third option.

He sped up.

"Hey, don't leave. That's not what I meant—"

"What did you mean?"

"I mean, you've gotten better-looking!"

He said it a little too loudly.

Loudly enough that the three girls passing beside them all turned to look.

Chen De's expression could be summed up in five words.

Social death.

"Jiang Ping."

"Yeah."

"Stay away from me from now on."

"Why?"

"Because every word you say speeds up my death."

Jiang Ping opened his mouth.

In the end, he chose to shut up.

The two walked in silence until they reached the entrance to the residential complex.

Chen De stopped at the gate.

"I'm home. You should go back."

"Dezi."

"Yeah."

"No matter what's going on with you, you can tell me."

Chen De glanced at him.

The setting sun fell across Jiang Ping's face.

This guy usually joked around all the time, but his expression was serious when he said that.

Chen De's lips moved slightly.

"I know."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"Because even if you knew, you couldn't help."

"How do you know I couldn't help?"

"Because this is beyond the scope of your understanding."

Jiang Ping frowned.

"You make it sound like there's a ghost involved."

Chen De nearly laughed.

It was pretty much like a haunting, actually.

"Go home. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

Jiang Ping turned and left.

This time, he did not turn back.

Chen De watched his back disappear around the corner at the intersection.

Then he lowered his head and looked at his backpack.

Qubi poked half its head out through a gap.

"He'll find out sooner or later."

"I know."

"So what are you going to do?"

Chen De took out his key.

He inserted it into the lock.

"I'll deal with it when he finds out."

"And how will you explain it then?"

Chen De pushed open the door.

He stood in the entryway.

He lowered his head and looked at the overly delicate face reflected in the mirror on the shoe cabinet.

"By then, I probably won't need to explain."

"Because the change itself will be the best explanation."

Qubi tilted its head.

"That sounded very philosophical."

"Thanks."

"But it doesn't solve any practical problems."

"...I know."

His phone vibrated.

Chen De looked down.

Lin Xi: Sister Su! The milk tea shop got a new Fresh Coconut Mango today! Want me to bring you one tomorrow evening!

Chen De stared at the screen.

He typed two words.

"What size?"

Lin Xi replied instantly.

Lin Xi: Large!!!

Chen De thought about it.

"Okay."