YMW CH 31

Miss

Cen Wu had no idea what kind of part-time job Xie Guilan had taken up this time. One evening after school, he went to a bookstore near campus to buy some study guides and happened to see Xie Guilan unloading cargo at a nearby warehouse.

The night was deep, shadows stretching long under dim streetlights. Xie Guilan wore a black T-shirt with his school uniform pants, his hands covered in thick white work gloves. Box after box, he unloaded crates from a truck and carried them into the warehouse.

Sweat traced a line down his neck and collarbone, highlighting the veins along the side of his throat. There was something raw and youthful about him—tough, effortless, with an understated kind of sex appeal.

Cen Wu clenched the strap of his backpack. He hesitated—talking to strangers always made him nervous—but after a moment, he gathered the courage to ask the shop owner.

“Oh, Xiao Xie?” The owner puffed on his cigarette. “I actually hired a few people, but he said he could finish the job alone in three hours and told me to pay him everything.”

This wasn’t the first time Xie Guilan had helped out here, so the owner didn’t question it and let him get to work.

“I… I’ll help him,” Cen Wu said. “I don’t need any money.”

The owner hesitated but didn’t refuse. Free labor didn’t hurt.

Cen Wu didn’t want Xie Guilan to see him, so he stuck to the other warehouse. Another truck was parked further away, making it unlikely that Xie Guilan would notice him unless he came over.

The job was for a western-style restaurant, and most of the cargo that night was liquor—heavy and fragile.

Cen Wu tried to be sneaky, but after carrying just two boxes, his arms were burning, and his fingers were red and sore from the strain. He took a break, then attempted to lift a box the way Xie Guilan did, hoisting it onto his shoulder. The moment the weight settled, pain shot through his shoulder like fire.

He frowned. This body was too weak, just like when he was fifteen or sixteen.

Back then, he only started doing physical labor after joining film sets. His first production was so underfunded that they couldn’t even afford crew members to handle props—he and Lu Lian had to do everything themselves. Compared to that, this was nothing.

Gritting his teeth, Cen Wu kept going. After moving over a dozen boxes, he figured Xie Guilan’s workload should be a little easier now. He rubbed his aching shoulders and fingers, planning to slip away.

But just as he turned, Xie Guilan glanced in his direction. The night was dark, but he caught a glimpse of a figure darting past the truck.

“Huh? Looked like a cat,” the owner said with an awkward chuckle. “Xiao Xie, I helped you move about half the load. The rest is on you, but don’t worry, you’ll still get full pay.”

Xie Guilan: “…”

His lips pressed into a thin line, eyes dark as he stared at the alleyway. But whoever it was had already disappeared.

---

When Cen Wu got home, he could barely lift his arms. His shoulders throbbed like they’d been scraped raw. He planned to quietly put some medicine on himself, but before he could, Cen Xiao caught him in the hallway.

“What happened to your face?” Cen Xiao reached out, rubbing at the dust smudged on his cheek.

Cen Wu stammered, shifting guiltily. His odd behavior only made Cen Xiao more suspicious. He’d already felt that something was off with Cen Wu lately—like he was a completely different person.

But how could that be? He was still here, standing in front of him. And if Cen Wu got scolded, he’d probably just shrink back and tear up quietly.

So in the end, Cen Xiao didn’t ask anything.

Instead, he grabbed Cen Wu’s wrist and pulled him downstairs—only to find his hands covered in fresh blisters, swollen and red. Just looking at them made it obvious how painful they were.

Both Guan Xingxue and Cen Junshan were home. They were strict with Cen Xiao, but Cen Wu had always been pampered. He never even took public transport—always chauffeured around in luxury cars. When had his hands ever suffered like this?

And his shoulder—it had been scraped so badly that blood welled against his pale skin, stark and jarring.

“My little treasure, what happened?” Guan Xingxue asked, distressed. She reached out to touch his hand but hesitated, afraid of hurting him.

Cen Wu suddenly thought—maybe it was good that they saw this.

The Cen family was old money, untouched by hardship. Cen Junshan and Cen Xiao had never known struggle—the hardest thing in their lives was either academics or business strategy.

They were naturally gifted, successful, and had never truly faced failure.

Guan Xingxue, despite being an actress who had visited impoverished areas for charity work, had shot to stardom the moment she debuted. She was adored by the industry, rising effortlessly to become a film queen. Even when she suffered, she was always cushioned.

They were destined to have a chasm between them and Xie Guilan.

After bringing Xie Guilan into their home, they had, of course, investigated his past.

They knew he had struggled—studying while taking care of a sick relative. They thought it had been difficult. But they didn’t realize that “difficult” meant frostbitten hands and blistered fingers, shoulders rubbed raw, knees forced to the ground. Years of humiliation.

And in the original story, Xie Guilan’s hands were left permanently damaged.

Even if they saw it with their own eyes, they still wouldn’t be able to grasp the pain of having each of his fingers broken one by one—let alone imagine it without witnessing it.

That’s why their so-called love meant nothing to Xie Guilan. It only reminded him of how absurd his life had been.

One day, when Xie Guilan was finally recognized and brought back into the family, Guan Xingxue and the others would realize that for every injury Cen Wu had suffered, Xie Guilan had likely endured the same.

At the very least, this wouldn’t be a bad thing.

---

“Xiao Xie?” Guan Xingxue nodded when Cen Wu mentioned he had helped Xie Guilan. “That child has had it rough.”

Cen Junshan, who had been helping apply medicine, casually asked, “Didn’t your Uncle Xie give him any money? His mother’s in the hospital, right? Is he really that strapped for cash?”

The Cen family was well-mannered enough not to openly comment on how poor Xie Guilan was, though Cen Junshan’s question already implied it.

Cen Wu: “…”

Dad, he’s not just some poor kid.

He’s your biological son.

Cen Wu didn’t say anything further. He simply wanted his family to understand Xie Guilan better—but not in a way that would expose his hardships. Xie Guilan would never accept anyone’s pity.

Not even from his own parents.

Guan Xingxue finished applying medicine to Cen Wu’s injuries and was about to lance the blisters on his fingers, but Cen Wu, afraid of the pain, hid his hands. Seeing this, Guan Xingxue relented.

“We’ll let Dr. Lu handle it tomorrow,” she said, ruffling his hair.

Cen Wu hummed in agreement. Luckily, he had already finished his homework during evening self-study; otherwise, with his hands in this state, holding a pen would be impossible.

---

The next day at school, Xie Guilan didn’t show up in the morning. He only arrived after early self-study.

Xu Lingling and her deskmate huddled together and hesitantly approached Xie Guilan, clearly wanting to talk but too nervous to do so.

Her deskmate, Jiang Yi, was the same girl who had once been cast in a reversed Cinderella story—one where she chased after a boy who could never escape her grasp.

Xie Guilan looked up. With his sharp brow bones inherited from Guan Xingxue’s mixed heritage, his deep-set eyes made his already striking features even more intense. His cold, handsome face carried a natural gloom as he glanced over.

“What?” His voice was indifferent.

Xu Lingling was momentarily dazed, almost mistaking his tone for a challenge to a fight.

Jiang Yi braced herself. “Xie-ge, you and Second Young Master are the only ones left without a performance for the school event. Since you didn’t sign up, the decision is now up to us. There are two scripts left. Would you… pick one?”

Xie Guilan frowned, his thin lips parting slightly as if about to refuse, but before he could speak, Xu Lingling cut him off.

“You can’t say no!”

Xie Guilan: “…”

Annoyed, he asked, “What are the options?”

“Beauty and the Beast or Gone with the Wind,” Jiang Yi said. “Pick one.”

Cen Wu: “…”

Xie Guilan: “…”

The rest of the class had already formed pairs or small groups, leaving only Cen Wu and Xie Guilan to perform together.

Xie Guilan hesitated for a moment, then turned to Cen Wu. “Young Master, what do you want to play?”

Cen Wu: “…”

Weren’t you ignoring me?

“I… I’ll play the Beast,” Cen Wu stammered, flipping through the script.

The Beast would have to wear a headpiece. If he put that on, no one would care what he looked like. As someone with social anxiety, masks, hats, and head coverings were his best friends.

“…” Xie Guilan was silent for a few seconds, then said blankly, “So… I play the Beauty?”

“Hahaha,” Jiang Yi quickly laughed to cut off any chance for regrets. “It’s settled then! Saturday after school, the whole class is going to the costume shop. Don’t forget, Xie-ge, Second Young Master!”

With that, she and Xu Lingling fled, huddling together again as they scurried off.

Xie Guilan didn’t argue. He seemed indifferent about the whole thing, so Cen Wu didn’t say anything either. When Saturday arrived, the entire class headed to the costume rental shop in groups.

The shop was near No. 13 High School, not far from No. 1 High. For some reason, No. 13 High had a reputation for producing students who went into the arts—many even got into film academies.

Their school events were always impressive, and the nearby costume shop was massive, carrying everything from European-style attire to traditional Chinese robes.

That evening, the shop was practically reserved for their class. The second floor had over ten fitting rooms, just enough for everyone to take turns changing.

Several boys assigned to cross-dressing roles stood in front of the dress racks, silently holding up skirts with conflicted expressions.

Zhang Yuanzhou, who had been paired with Xu Lingling to perform Phantom of the Opera, had the most dignified male role. Conveniently, the shop even had costumes resembling the original musical.

“Second Young Master,” Xu Lingling handed Cen Wu a Beast headpiece. “Try this on.”

Xie Guilan was given a dress and shoved into a fitting room. His expression was so cold that Jiang Yi had no idea if he was angry or not. She hurriedly handed him the costume, rubbed her arms nervously, and backed away.

Cen Wu, holding the headpiece, found all the fitting rooms occupied. He ended up sitting on a bench outside with Lu Wang, waiting.

Xie Guilan stepped out after only a few minutes. He hadn’t even taken off his school uniform pants and still wore his jacket, covering himself completely—like a model student competing in a male virtue contest.

Cen Wu: “…”

Who was he even guarding against?

“I can’t wear this,” Xie Guilan said, lowering his dark peach-blossom eyes.

He was already tall, and even the largest dress barely fit. To make things worse, another boy playing Cinderella—built like a bodybuilder—had claimed the biggest costumes first.

Though Xie Guilan had a slim waist—Cen Wu had personally held him before and knew he fit perfectly in an embrace—the dress barely squeezed onto his frame. His back muscles, however, made closing the zipper impossible.

Xu Lingling sighed, disappointment clear in her eyes.

She could already imagine it—if Xie Guilan actually performed in the event, and even cross-dressed, their class would absolutely steal the show.

Cen Wu, still holding the Beast headpiece, wasn’t giving up. “You… you take off your jacket, let me see.”

Xie Guilan lowered his eyes, looking like a young, handsome, and well-trained wolfdog—obediently taking off his school jacket. His back was smooth and firm, shaped by years of hard work with no excess fat, his skin as pale as jade.

Some boys nearby couldn’t help but feel a mix of envy and jealousy. “How did Xie Ge get his body like this? Can I touch it?”

Straightforward boys, with no hesitation, went right to it, not thinking anything was wrong. If it were anyone other than Xie Guilan, someone else would have already grabbed them and caused a commotion.

Xie Guilan shot them a cold look.

They immediately went quiet, but their eyes still lingered, nudging one another, while a few others turned to glance at Xie Guilan.

Cen Wu: sigh.

He crossed his leg and placed it on his other knee, looking like an arrogant young master, then told Xie Guilan, “Put it back on.”

What a shameless guy.

Xie Guilan didn’t argue. He put his jacket back on and went to the changing room to change into his own clothes.

The school was celebrating its annual event, so many of the costumes had been borrowed. The remaining princess dresses were limited. Originally, Xu Lingling wanted to find Cen Wu a yellow one but couldn’t, instead finding a green velvet gown with a big skirt. It was perfect for playing Scarlett O’Hara from *Gone with the Wind*.

Cen Wu, being thin, could fit into this size.

“Second Young Master,” Xu Lingling clasped her hands together, pleading.

Cen Wu: sigh.

Just the thought of it made it hard for him to breathe. There was no way he’d be able to speak on stage.

Xu Lingling, who had known him the longest, could tell he didn’t like talking. So, she coaxed him gently, “You and Xie Ge won’t have any lines, just a short dance, about a minute. After that, the others will take over.”

Cen Wu’s expression softened a little. Xu Lingling didn’t push him to decide immediately and went to find a suit for Xie Guilan.

Xie Guilan’s outfit was easy enough to sort out—a black suit would work, and the store had plenty of three-piece suits.

Lu Wang had chosen to play the Ugly Duckling himself. He had already tried on a full-body animal suit from the store and was waiting with Cen Wu while they watched Xie Guilan change.

The suits in the rental shop weren’t expensive, but Xie Guilan’s physique made them look very tailored, especially the trousers that hugged his long legs, giving him an air of refinement. Though, playing Whitehead seemed a little too young for him.

He had tried several suits, but Cen Wu wasn’t impressed, and Xu Lingling didn’t dare speak up.

Cen Wu still held the Beast headpiece and the green gown Xu Lingling had given him. His arm resting on it, it made his skin look even whiter, and his beautiful eyes curved slightly, as if about to smile, as he stared at Xie Guilan.

The skirt was so large that even though Cen Wu was holding it, it almost touched the ground, flowing like mist.

Xie Guilan paused for a moment, then walked over and asked, “Young Master, not satisfied yet?”

“You… weren’t you ignoring me?” Cen Wu raised his head.

Xie Guilan pressed his lips together and said, “I wasn’t.”

He didn’t like Cen Wu, but it didn’t matter who Cen Wu was with. Even if Cen Wu ended up with Xie Shangjing, he wouldn’t care.

Some classmates had been watching Xie Guilan try on clothes and couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of bullying. But Xie Guilan didn’t seem to mind much, which made everyone feel like it would be intrusive to interfere.

Cen Wu pouted, feeling a little more at ease as he watched Xie Guilan. He thought about it—if it was just for a minute, he could probably manage. He stood up to change.

The gown was a bit different from the one in the movie, and the back was all ties—quite cumbersome. Cen Wu struggled to put it on, and when he tried to tighten the straps, the wounds on his fingers from the blisters stung painfully. After some time, he still hadn’t managed to get it on properly.

Fearing he’d stain it with blood, he cracked open the dressing room door just enough for his eye to peek through. “Xie… Xie Guilan.”

Xie Guilan walked over and asked, “What’s wrong, Young Master?”

Cen Wu’s ears turned red. He grabbed Xie Guilan’s arm and said, “Can you… help me?”

Xie Guilan stepped into the dressing room. The velvet green gown almost touched the ground, and since it was a strapless gown, it hung loosely on Cen Wu, only just covering his chest. His collarbones and pale skin were almost fully exposed.

Xu Lingling had also given Cen Wu a wig—though it didn’t match the movie exactly. There wasn’t time to fix the styling, but she didn’t want him to feel awkward in the dress, so they just worked with it for now.

His deep brown, curly hair fell down, and Cen Wu’s already cold and elegant face looked even more striking in contrast, his eyes appearing deeper.

There was also a waist corset that Cen Wu had trouble fastening on his own. Under Xie Guilan’s gaze, Cen Wu bit his lip and, feeling awkward, turned away, silently asking Xie Guilan for help.

The dressing room was small, and with the large skirt and hoop underneath, it was a tight squeeze for both of them.

Xie Guilan, afraid he might fall, caught his waist. But as he moved Cen Wu’s long curls from his pale shoulder, he froze.

There were still traces of bruising on Cen Wu’s shoulder where the skin had been rubbed raw. The sight of it was quite shocking.

Xie Guilan: silent.

Xie Guilan pulled Cen Wu’s hand, noticing the blisters on his fingers. His lips twitched, but he didn’t ask questions. He just said to Cen Wu, “Wait for me.”

Cen Wu wasn’t sure what he was doing, so he waited. Xie Guilan returned quickly, carrying a disinfected needle. When Cen Wu saw it, his fingers curled instinctively, but Xie Guilan held his hand steady.

“I… I don’t want to,” Cen Wu said quietly.

Xie Guilan’s voice was cold, but he spoke with an unexpected patience, almost as if coaxing him, “It won’t hurt.”

Lu Wang, waiting outside, had never seen Cen Wu in a dress before. He was eagerly waiting and heard Xie Guilan talking to Cen Wu.

Luo Wang: “……”

Luo Wang instantly panicked. The fitting room wasn’t soundproof at all—anyone outside could hear them talking normally.

Through the door—

“Don’t be nervous,” Xie Guilan whispered.

Cen Wu hesitated for a moment before deciding to trust him. He lowered his voice. “Then… be gentle.”

A hushed, indistinct murmur, the rustling of fabric—everything in that tiny space seemed laced with a subtle tension.

Luo Wang’s face turned red. Wait, he was still a kid!

But he didn’t leave. Instead, he kept an eye out, making sure no one got too close. Anyone who approached was swiftly shooed away.

Today, he was his bro’s personal romance bodyguard.

His classmates gave him a few puzzled glances.

One minute later—

Cen Wu: “……”

Liar!

It still hurt when the blister popped, but Xie Guilan worked quickly. The pain was sharp but brief.

After wiping the blood from Cen Wu’s fingertip, Xie Guilan saw he wasn’t upset and took the liberty of helping him with the dress. Lowering his head, he pulled the satin ribbons at the back, tightening them neatly around Cen Wu’s waist before tying them into a bow.

Xie Guilan had never had a girlfriend, but wrapping countless gift boxes at the bar had made his hands dexterous. He fumbled at first, but by the last few ribbons, he moved with practiced ease—snug but not too tight.

Cen Wu stood with his back to him, the dress exposing half of it. He was thin, and when he lowered his head, the sharp lines of his shoulder blades stood out like delicate, white butterfly wings.

The dim, cramped fitting room left no space between them. Xie Guilan’s warm breath skimmed the nape of Cen Wu’s neck and the slender bone along his spine. A shiver ran through him, his pale skin reacting all the way to the tiny red mole on his ear, which deepened to an even brighter shade.

“I-I’m done,” Cen Wu stammered, hastily pushing Xie Guilan aside. In his rush, he threw the door open without even fixing his skirt.

He wobbled slightly in his high heels but didn’t step out, only pulling the door open for Xu Lingling and the others to take a quick look.

His snow-white skin and naturally flushed lips made makeup unnecessary, perfectly complementing the emerald dress. But his eyes carried a nervous uncertainty, like a small animal caught by the scruff.

Xu Lingling, however, looked satisfied. Though she was only a minor actress, two years in the industry had exposed her to plenty of stars. The thought of Cen Wu debuting made her wonder just how famous he could become.

Since the director herself approved, Cen Wu quickly ducked back inside to change.

The high heels were killing him. After just a few minutes, his feet ached. He glanced down to switch shoes, only to realize he had left them outside.

“Step on my feet,” Xie Guilan offered.

Cen Wu hesitated. Well, since Xie Guilan had suggested it… it wouldn’t be holding a grudge if he accepted, right? He kicked off the heels and stepped directly onto Xie Guilan’s shoes, finally relieving the pressure on his feet.

Xie Guilan wrapped an arm around his waist, steadying him as he undid the ribbons at the back of the dress.

Cen Wu wobbled and instinctively reached up, wrapping his arms around Xie Guilan’s neck for balance. He rested his head there for a moment before cautiously turning to look at him—only to lock eyes with those deep, black pupils.

Startled, he realized Xie Guilan had been watching him too. But with Xie Guilan holding him so securely, there was nowhere to run. He could only tighten his arms slightly and stare back.

His long, wavy hair fell over half of his pale face, leaving only his nose and those nervous, fluttering eyes visible. His waist was slim, his appearance carrying a delicate androgyny. But Xie Guilan knew very well—he was holding a boy.

Xie Guilan lowered his head to undo the final ribbons, but his fingers suddenly paused. Just a little more, and the loosened fabric would reveal the smooth curve beneath.

Cen Wu, completely unaware, shifted slightly. Barefoot, he stepped on Xie Guilan’s leather shoe, then lifted his foot and pressed down again. His white toes curled slightly, hooking onto the laces, playing with them absentmindedly.

“Don’t move,” Xie Guilan’s voice came out rough. He placed a hand on Cen Wu’s back, his palm brushing against warm, bare skin.

Cen Wu shuddered at the touch and obediently stopped fidgeting, curling his toes in restraint.

Xie Guilan withdrew his hand, exhaled, and undid the last few ties. Making sure the dress was loose enough to take off, he asked, “Can you handle the rest yourself?”

“Yeah,” Cen Wu answered softly.

Xie Guilan helped him sit on the changing bench, then knelt down and picked up the high heels, slipping them back onto Cen Wu’s feet.

The skirt was voluminous, layered with a crinoline underneath. When Cen Wu looked down from his position, it almost felt like Xie Guilan was buried beneath it. The thought sent a wave of embarrassment through him—he wanted to punch him out of sheer secondhand shame.

His face burned. He hurriedly pressed the fabric down to hide Xie Guilan, but that felt even more wrong. In the end, he simply gathered the skirt up in his arms.

Xie Guilan held his ankle, fastening the shoe straps. “Anything else you need help with, Young Master?”

Cen Wu pursed his lips, shaking his head. But after thinking for a second, he added, “Don’t… don’t call me ‘Young Master’ anymore.”

That title sounded way too outdated—like he was about to be dragged off for some gruesome organ trade.

He sat there in the green dress, his long curls constantly tickling his face. But his hands hurt, and he couldn’t fix it himself. Everything about him was a mess, looking oddly pitiful.

He couldn’t even dress himself properly.

Xie Guilan wanted to see him struggle, yet at the same time, he couldn’t resist pulling him close, piece by piece, dressing him properly.

He lowered his gaze as he leaned in, fingers brushing Cen Wu’s hair aside. His lips curved with amusement, a hint of mischief in his tone.

“Then what should I call you? Miss?”