“Look—this is a touchscreen phone. It’s really easy to use.” Wang Fan handed over a brand-new phone.
Liao Xing felt a little at a loss.
Only now did he realize that five years had passed in the outside world. In those five years, technology had advanced far too quickly—he was already struggling to keep up.
Wang Fan was, sure enough, a twenty-year-old adult now. He looked different from before.
Meanwhile, Liao Xing was still the same as he’d been at fifteen—thin, small, with features that leaned feminine, and carrying psychological trauma from escaping the hospital.
The gap between them was far too large, not something that could be bridged by a mere five years.
Liao Xing cautiously fiddled with the touchscreen phone.
Five years ago, touchscreen phones hadn’t been this widespread. He had only ever used button phones, and he didn’t quite dare to press hard on this unfamiliar large screen. After tapping it a few times, he said a little awkwardly, “Technology really advances so fast now…”
Wang Fan noticed his discomfort and sat down beside him, patiently explaining, “You don’t need to press hard—just a light touch is enough. And it even has online payment functions.”
He was very patient. Guided by him, Liao Xing seemed a bit more relaxed.
But only “seemed.” When the night grew quiet, the endless nightmares still wrapped around him, jolting him awake again and again.
Liao Xing thought that perhaps he would never truly escape them. He lived in the apartment Wang Fan rented off-campus. During the day, Wang Fan went to university for classes. Liao Xing stayed home quietly, helping with chores and tidying up.
Until one day, Wang Fan handed him a high school admission notice. “I finally got it sorted out!”
When Liao Xing saw what it was, he instantly looked up, staring at him in a daze.
“What are you looking at me like that for? Think I look especially heroic and bathed in holy light right now?” Wang Fan grinned. “Go on, call me Dad and let me hear it.”
Liao Xing snapped back to his senses and laughed as he cursed, “Get lost.” Then, a little worried, he asked, “How did you manage to get this? Logically speaking, my age should be twenty…”
Wang Fan waved it off. “Ah, don’t worry. I went through legitimate channels—absolutely reliable!”
“But… will people still point fingers at me?” Liao Xing hesitated, then hurriedly added, “Sorry, I’m being overly sensitive.”
The words had barely left his mouth when he realized he was dumping negativity onto his friend and immediately apologized.
“That’s not your fault,” Wang Fan said seriously. “Your interests and hobbies, your personality—none of those are excuses for others to criticize you. You’re not harming anyone. You’re normal. You don’t need to change yourself just because of their biased judgments.”
Liao Xing’s worries were gently exposed, and at last, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He began laughing and crying at the same time, his voice broken with emotion. “I… I really am a little scared. I don’t know what it’ll be like out there, whether I’ll still be judged by those looks…”
“You won’t.” Wang Fan gave him a firm promise. “Absolutely not. In fact, there might be a lot of people who like you now.”
Only after that repeated reassurance did Liao Xing step outside—and arrive at his new school.
Not long after the semester began, he was shocked to discover that some classmates were sharing videos of crossdressing influencers on their phones.
Someone asked the fan about it, and the other student answered openly, “I’ve been following this creator for over a year. You can tell from his videos and livestreams—he’s not faking it to get attention. That’s just really how he is. I think his transformations and makeup skills are amazing. I absolutely love it!”
Watching the enthusiastic discussion among his classmates, Liao Xing felt—like he had truly returned to the human world.
So… so people like him could actually be liked too?
Quietly, he joined their conversation.
His homeroom teacher didn’t know anything about his past, only thought he was a boy who looked and acted a little like a girl. There was no discrimination, but no favoritism either.
That was perfect. It was exactly what Liao Xing had longed for most: an ordinary life, just like any other ordinary person.
Gradually, he began to shed his psychological shadows. He started socializing again, no longer trapping himself in the past.
But the most important person in his heart—from beginning to end—was still Wang Fan. That never changed.
***
Three years after returning to the real world, Liao Xing came of age—and officially got into university.
It was the same university Wang Fan attended—though by then, Wang Fan was already in grad school, and the two of them weren’t in the same department.
Liao Xing felt a bit disappointed about that.
Wang Fan, on the other hand, was cheerful. “Hey, at least we’re on the same campus. I’ll look after you!”
Liao Xing sighed. “Fine, fine.”
University life was far freer than high school. When the campus cosplay club found out that Liao Xing could do cross-dressing cosplay—and had even trained his voice—they immediately decided: “Junior, we need you!”
At that month’s mixer party, new club member Liao Xing cosplayed a hugely popular virtual character from anime. Not only was his makeup and styling spot-on, even his voice was uncannily accurate. His performance left everyone at the party slack-jawed.
The guys stared in stunned silence, then wiped away a tear from the corners of their eyes. “Okay… maybe this isn’t so bad…”
The girls screamed and swarmed around him: “Aaaah! Wifey! Wifey, marry me! Let’s sign a marriage certificate!”
The whole thing startled Liao Xing so much he nearly broke character. He barely made it through his segment before rushing backstage and dragging Wang Fan away to hide.
After the mixer ended, the two of them quickly changed clothes and slipped out of the building.
“That was terrifying,” Liao Xing said with a laugh-cry. “Being too popular might not be a good thing after all!”
Wang Fan chuckled. “It’s great. More people will like you.”
Feeling shy, Liao Xing turned away—only for his gaze to be suddenly caught by a scene outside the campus gate.
A pair of middle-aged parents were scolding their child. The kid was crying out, “I can’t do this! You two are insane—I’m still in elementary school, and you want me to go to college?!”
Liao Xing frowned instinctively and looked up, studying the couple more closely.
Wang Fan noticed him stop and followed his gaze—then caught a flicker of recognition in the father’s face.
“Is that…” he asked uncertainly.
Liao Xing lowered his voice. “My parents. Looks like they had another kid.”
Judging from the child’s age—about seven or eight—it was likely the pregnancy had occurred around the time he’d been sent to the hospital. Thinking about it now, their sudden halt in paying the hospital fees might have been because of this new child.
They had a fresh, “retrainable” baby—what did they need a “mentally ill” older son for? So they just got rid of him.
Liao Xing could even imagine it clearly: while he lay on a cold operating table, enduring unspeakable pain and torment, his biological parents were likely somewhere celebrating the arrival of new life.
His grip tightened instinctively, and he snapped a fingernail clean off.
“Careful!” Wang Fan caught his hand gently. “Don’t let people like that hurt you anymore. Let’s go home.”
Snapping out of it, Liao Xing apologized, “Sorry. It won’t happen again. From now on, I’ll treat them like strangers.”
“They already are. Your legal guardian now is me. They have nothing to do with you.”
Wang Fan looked at him, eyes full of tenderness—
Liao Xing might not know it, but the sun he had chased so desperately… had always seen him as a treasure.
And looking at the present—that was already enough.
