The Numbness of the Soul

The greatest sorrow is a heart dead to feeling.

I believe I finally understood that sentiment.

After the sales associate finished educating me on the various types of panties and guided me through selecting a pair, I had become utterly numb.

Women were nothing more than rosy skeletons, and even though I appeared to be a beautiful maiden, I was merely flesh draped over bones.

If I simply considered myself a mobile mannequin, wouldn’t that make things far more bearable?

Even when confronted with what, in the eyes of a pure-hearted virgin, might have been a hellish tableau brimming with adult connotations, I clung to my willpower, maintaining a sage-like detachment.

I refused to lose myself in this seductive, kaleidoscopic world.

In that moment, I felt my soul transcend, retreating into a state of non-action, selflessness, desirelessness, humility, pure emptiness, and natural harmony.

I realized I was merely a transient guest in the mortal world, and all things were but fleeting dust.

Life and death ceased to hold importance; all things were contained within me, I was everything, and everything was me.

A wise person once said: ‘If you don’t fear death, why bother with a pair of underwear?’

It was just panties, after all! What was there to be embarrassed about?

See? I just wouldn’t choose any of those ultra-sexy black lace ones, and that would be the end of it! (In truth, I didn’t choose them in the end.)

Yet, the moment I stepped out of the specialty store with heavy feet, I felt as though I had become white ash, completely burnt out, as if a mere gust of wind could scatter me.

A primal roar, like that of a beast, tore from my throat:

“Hehehehehehehe, is that all? Is that all? Is that all? Is that all? Is that all? Is that all? Is that all?”

“Sister, why are you making such an incomprehensible roaring sound? It’s terrifying!”

“What else is there? Come on, bring it all! Let the storm rage even more fiercely!”

Though my heart bled, my thoughts had soared into a chaos I didn’t even recognize.

Ling Chen shook his head. “That was too much stimulation. It seems if this continues, Sister will be broken. Let’s stop here for today!”

I challenged him, “Come on, are you scared?”

“I think Sister should be the one who’s scared.”

Pointing a finger to the sky, I swayed into a ridiculous, grotesque dance:

“I’m not afraid! Life and death mean nothing; if you don’t like it, fight me! I am Nicholas Zhao Si, the Asian Dance King, and the famous tough guy Fan Debiao from the Northeast! I’ll draw a dragon on your left and a rainbow on your right! Let’s meow together like cats, meow meow meow…”

What is true dance? It’s when the music hasn’t even started, but the soul is already wild!

Ling Chen quickly pulled me back, as I had completely let myself go.

“Sister, you’re possessed! Wake up!”

“Let go of me! I’m going to rock the whole place! Just thinking about you, I…”

How empty I felt. What exactly was I doing?

Even with the appearance of a beautiful maiden, was I still a comedian at heart?

After the twists and turns of today, I was on the verge of losing my mind.

The immense pressure finally shattered my psychological defenses, and tears streamed down my face.

“Wuwuwu, I don’t want to be a woman! I want to change back!”

A man’s tears do not fall easily, save for when his heart is truly broken.

After crying, I felt much better. Thankfully, few people passed by here, so no one witnessed my loss of composure.

Emerging from the women’s restroom, I looked at the golden-haired maiden in the mirror above the washbasin, her eyes a little red, and remained silent.

Rejection, anger, struggle, frustration, acceptance—having gone through these six stages, I could finally face myself calmly, temporarily accepting the current situation.

Goodbye, Ling Chen.

Hello, Ling Jiu.

Stepping out of the mall, the brilliant sunlight made me involuntarily raise a hand to shield my eyes. In the distance, the golden-haired boy stood under the shade of a tree, holding my purchases and waving at me.

“Sister, you look much better,” Ling Chen observed, noticing my slightly red eyes, and asked with concern, “Sister, do you feel better now?”

I wiped my eyes and laughed. “No problem! I am now a tough man, unyielding as a bronze pea—unsteamed, unboiled, unflattened, unstir-fried, clanging solid! A true iron-boned warrior!”

He smirked. “So, Sister, do you want to keep challenging your limits?”

Annoyed, I playfully flicked his nose.

“You rascal, is it fun to tease me?”

“Of course it’s fun! Sister’s reactions are truly amusing!”

My voice dropped. “I wonder if it’s the influence of this body, but my personality has become a bit emotional, like a woman’s. I’m so embarrassing.”

Ling Chen gave a thumbs-up. “But I think it’s very cute! Sister is becoming more and more like a young girl!”

“Who’s a young girl?!”

I vigorously rubbed Ling Chen’s smooth cheek, but he remained unyielding. “Sister is naturally a beautiful maiden; I must make Sister realize her identity!”

“Well, I appreciate your trouble!”

“Ugh… my face is going to take on Sister’s shape.”

“Don’t mimic my strange remarks!”

Ling Chen, whose face had reddened from my rubbing, met my gaze, and we both shared a knowing smile.

“Are we heading back now?”

“Why don’t you just buy clothes too, Sister? You’d look absolutely beautiful in a dress!”

“No! Cross-dressing is either never or countless times. I’ll just wear men’s clothes, or at least something neutral!”

Seeing my firm attitude, Ling Chen shook his head. “What a pity. A beautiful maiden like Sister, dressing according to your previous otaku aesthetic, simply can’t showcase your charm.”

“None of your business! I just like to keep a low profile! Speaking of which, would you like to wear women’s clothes?”

Ling Chen mused, “Actually, it’s alright.”

I circled Ling Chen. If he didn’t expose his skin, it was hard to tell how muscular he was.

As a handsome, delicate-faced youth, Ling Chen certainly had great potential for cross-dressing.

And he didn’t seem to have any objections…

Emmmmm, is there something wrong with our roles? Why couldn’t he be my sister?

If my younger sibling were a cross-dresser, it would only make me uneasy.

After all, in some sense, I might harbor similar thoughts about cross-dressing myself.

No, that won’t do. As an ultimate straight man, cross-dressers are only for looking at. If I became infatuated, I would fall into hell.

Besides, aren’t I an Apostle?

Modern cross-dressing is an evil trap set by Lucifer; I won’t fall for it!

“Ling Chen, if you dare to cross-dress, you’re not allowed to hang out with me anymore.”

“Why?”

“As a tough man, how can I tolerate my sibling being so unmanly!”

“Although I was just saying it, does a ‘Sister’ who has played countless cross-dresser visual novels really have the right to call herself a tough man? What kind of male do you mean by ‘tough man’?”

“For example, full of muscles, exuding a tough-guy aura, with unwavering will, who also loves to eat crispy fried chicken to replenish power, and can shoot rays from their eyes…”

“Stop, stop, stop! Sister, your description of a tough man is getting stranger and stranger. Not to mention what kind of bizarre existence a tough man who eats crispy fried chicken is, are you sure you possess any characteristics of a tough man?”

“…”

I raised my hands like a beast-eared girl raising her paws, attempting to charm my way through. “I am a real tough man who loves crispy fried chicken! Rua!”

Ling Chen’s tone was icy. “Embarrassing.”

“I’m sorry, I’m an idiot…”