How to Become a Sufferer

“I think I remember… we were supposed to be discussing outfit designs?”

“Why have I been here this whole time just touching feet?”

Yang Yuan teased lightly, though truthfully, Li Yu’an’s soft feet felt so good in his hands that he didn’t want to let go.

“You’re right—I almost forgot what we were doing here.”

Li Yu’an pulled her foot back under her skirt and reached into a drawer, pulling out a folder stamped with the “Stellar Magic Girl” logo.

She took out several printed design sketches, all marked up with handwritten notes in pen.

“Look, this is the base model provided by the official team.”

Once she started talking about her passion, Li Yu’an transformed—her usual cold demeanor melted away, replaced by vibrant energy.

“I think the bow on the collar should be bigger. If we use a glittery fabric, it’ll look even cuter.”

She pointed at the blueprint, passionately explaining her ideas, completely lost in her own world.

“That bow’s already pretty big. Wouldn’t making it bigger be over the top?”

“Magic girls are supposed to be over the top. That’s what makes them cute.”

They went back and forth over the design details, trading opinions, their conversation flowing naturally. The atmosphere had never been so relaxed and warm.

After the discussion, Yang Yuan couldn’t help but remark, “You really do love these magic girls, don’t you?”

“It’s not exactly love, I guess.”

Li Yu’an paused, as if carefully choosing her words.

“When I was little, I did really like these things.”

“Besides magic girls, I loved pink hairpins, lace-trimmed dresses, and all sorts of sparkly toys.”

Her gaze drifted toward the window, as if peering into a childhood she never got to live.

“But back then, my mother was always against me having anything like that.”

“Why?” Yang Yuan asked.

“Because she… almost became a hero herself.”

“She worked so hard from a young age, but failed the final evaluation. So she poured all her regrets and expectations onto me.”

“My mother believed heroes shouldn’t care about flashy, girly things. She’d throw away the toys I secretly bought, tear up my drawings of magic girls.”

Now Yang Yuan understood. The contrast in Li Yu’an’s personality wasn’t just about preference—it was a quiet rebellion, a long-overdue compensation for a childhood stripped of joy.

“So… more than liking it, I guess I’m envious.”

“I envy the heroines in the anime. They can wear what they love, fight for what they believe in, and become the people they want to be.”

As she spoke, a wistful light shone in her eyes.

“You can too, you know,” Yang Yuan blurted out without thinking.

“No, I can’t,” Li Yu’an immediately shook her head, her voice tinged with self-mockery.

“My mother was right. I’m not suited for that.”

“Besides… I’ve gotten used to being the Saintess. A hero’s image doesn’t allow for such childish behavior.”

Her words carried the weight of years of suppression—deeply ingrained insecurity.

Yang Yuan didn’t argue. Instead, he quietly picked up the final design draft they had agreed on, and handed it to her.

“Then… wear it for me when it’s ready.”

Li Yu’an froze, momentarily stunned by the meaning behind his words.

“Beautiful things deserve to be seen.”

“I’m really looking forward to the day I see you being your true self.”

A warmth unlike anything she’d ever felt surged through her, melting the icy layers of self-doubt built up over years of her mother’s harshness.

Her heart pounded with a force she’d never known. Emotions she couldn’t name began to bloom.

She smiled—a genuine, radiant smile. “With pleasure.”

Just then, Yang Yuan’s phone vibrated.

He picked it up. A message from Su Xiaoyou: “Ah Yuan, my checkup’s done! I’m heading home now!”

Seeing the message, Yang Yuan stood up at once.

“I should go. Take it easy these next few days—no intense exercise.”

“Be careful on your way back.”

After the door clicked shut, Li Yu’an leaned back against it and slowly closed her eyes.

Everything that had happened today replayed in her mind like a movie.

She rushed back to her bedroom, threw herself onto the big bed, buried her face in the pillow, and kicked her legs in the air with quiet joy.

Joy, shyness, and a fluttering sensation she’d never known filled her chest.

She opened her phone, tapped on Yang Yuan’s contact, and stared at his simple selfie profile picture. Her smile refused to fade.

“The custom outfit will take time to finish.”

“So… what excuse should I come up with next time to invite Yang Yuan over?”

****

After returning home, Yang Yuan took a hot shower, washing away all his fatigue.

Just as he changed into clean clothes, the front door opened.

“Ah Yuan, I’m back!”

Su Xiaoyou rushed in, fresh and energetic, throwing herself into his arms.

“How was the checkup? Everything okay?” Yang Yuan asked, holding her close.

“Everything’s fine! The doctor said my ability is very stable.”

“Let me recharge first—I haven’t smelled Ah Yuan’s scent in almost a day.”

Su Xiaoyou buried her nose in his chest, inhaling deeply with a blissful expression. Then she pulled out a sealed manila envelope from her small bag.

“By the way, when I was leaving, a man in a suit stopped me. Said he was from the Alliance Archives, and asked me to deliver this to you.”

“For me?” Yang Yuan took the file, puzzled.

He opened the seal and pulled out a neatly printed notice.

[Notice of Employment for Mr. Yang Yuan]

In elegant script, it read:

[This is to inform Mr. Yang Yuan of his appointment as Chief Advisor of the Department of Special Talent Relationship Management. Please report to the Hero Center Building at 9:00 AM next Monday with this notice.]

“Chief Advisor? Sounds so impressive!”

“But… Department of Special Talent Relationship Management? What kind of name is that?”

Su Xiaoyou peeked over his shoulder, squinting at the awkward department name.

“Probably a temporary department. I don’t even know what the Prophet actually wants.”

“As for why I’m the Chief Advisor… might be because I’m the only one in the department.”

Then Su Xiaoyou suddenly remembered something and asked urgently, “Isn’t the Hero Center full of female heroes?”

“If you, a man, go work there… won’t you get targeted by some of those weird women?”

The “weird women” she referred to were clearly the female heroes with all sorts of bizarre abilities.

To Su Xiaoyou, everyone except herself was a potential threat.

“What are you thinking? They’re top-tier heroes. They’re busy saving the world. Why would they even notice someone like me?”

“That’s true…”

Hearing that, Su Xiaoyou’s internal alarm finally quieted. She felt reassured—maybe she had been overreacting.

Yet, Su Xiaoyou didn’t know.

It was precisely this innocent “reassurance,” and Yang Yuan’s self-deprecating “they’d never look at me,” that would one day return as the most ironic boomerang the future could throw.