Volume 1 / Chapter 19: Skirt Measurements

The classroom gradually filled until every chair was occupied—signaling all Class 2, Grade 10 students had arrived.  

Lǐ Hóngrǎn, tall and burly, stood by the doorway shouting with arm raised: "All guys- follow me to move stuff" 

Mò Xuěyáo instinctively stood up.  

"What’re you doing?" Wáng Jiālè asked, puzzled.  

"Ah... me...?" Xuěyáo froze. She’d almost blurted Isn’t he calling guys to work? before jolting back to reality: I’m a girl now. Her mind raced. "Just... going to the bathroom..."  

"Oh..." Jiālè still eyed her suspiciously but stepped aside, watching her walk into the hallway.  

Xuěyáo had zero need for the toilet. But since she'd said it, she had to at least put on the act. She stopped by the sink to wash her hands and wet her fingers to smooth down her slightly messy hair.

A crowd of boys passed by in a noisy huddle, heading downstairs.

"What’s the big deal, Hóngrǎn? Do we really need this many people to carry stuff?" Chubby Gāo Yuán groaned.  

"It's good for your health to walk a little. Don't be so lazy," Hóngrăn rolled his eyes. "Look at Zhõu Yong- always helping out with the water jugs."

"Come on, he's just got energy to burn."

"And where’s yours going?" Zhōu Yǒng shot back.  

"I use my energy on important stuff, thank you. You know, like deep thinking and solving problems?"

"With that pig brain of yours, how much energy do you really need?" said skinny and sly Liú Xiăowěi, mercilessly roasting him-but it was all in good fun between buddies.

"Wanna die?!" Gāo Yuán laughed and tackled Xiǎowěi, in a playful chokehold..  

Amid the roughhousing, the group descended. Xuěyáo unconsciously trailed them.  

Only Xuě Xiānshēng—walking alone at the rear—noticed her.  

"Going downstairs too?" Hands in pockets, he smiled.  

Xuěyáo suddenly realized he was quite tall—a full head taller than her? Probably 170cm... Of course, it wasn’t that he was tall; at 158cm, she was just short.  

"Ah... I just... figured I'd take a look. Is that not allowed?"  she deflected.  

"Didn’t say you couldn’t." He looked genuinely baffled, his bookish aura peeking through.  

"Mr. Xuě , why’d your parents name you Xiānshēng ‘Mister’ (先生)?"  

"Because I was the firstborn among all my parents' siblings' kids. So they named me 'Xiansheng'-as in, 'born first." He answered seriously.

Xuěyáo’s lips twitched, suppressing a laugh. Not the honorific "Mister" but the temporal "First-Born." His parents must be fun people—surely noticed the double meaning?

The boys ahead finally registered the petite beauty following them.  

"Zhōu Yǒng! Your crush is here!"  

"Shut it!" Zhōu Yǒng shoved Xiǎowěi’s leering face toward Gāo Yuán. "Go be creepy with someone your own level!"  

"What’s there to say to that fatso?"  

"Who’re you calling fatso?!" Gāo Yuán seized Xiǎowěi again, staging a "fierce" wrestling match on the stairs.  

The atmosphere grew... heated.  

They tussled their way to a vacant first-floor classroom—the school’s permanent storage dump. Today it held piles of clothing: new winter uniforms.  

"Which class?" asked the discipline officer lounging with her legs crossed, wearing sheer black stockings and eyed the latest batch of boys.  

"Class 2, Grade 10, teacher."  

"That pile over there's yours. Just a few bags-why'd so many of you come?"

"The More hands, The merrier work!" Hóngrǎn stated without blinking.  

"Damn, Hóngrǎn dragged us out for nothing!"  

"Seriously, four people would've been enough!"  

"Relax—two bags each actually lightens the load." Practical perspectives prevailed.  

Grumbles were good-natured. Each boy hoisted two bundles back upstairs.  

"Mò Xuěyáo! Think this one’s yours!" Zhōu Yǒng called out, shaking a girls’ uniform bag.  

"Mine?" She took it. The tag confirmed: Mò Xuěyáo—160cm. 

"160cm!" Gāo Yuán gloated at the tag. "Heh, shorter than me!"  

"And you’re proud of that? Pathetic." Xiǎowěi rolled his eyes.  

"You’re no taller!" Thus Gāo Yuán and Xiǎowěi resumed hostilities.  

Xuěyáo knew she wasn’t 160cm— uniforms weren’t that precise. Just slotted into that size range. Hers was Medium.  

The neatly folded uniforms felt thick. Two sets bound together—probably for rotation.  

She glanced at other piles: color variations likely denoted grades. Ours had charcoal-and-gray plaid skirts with red lace trim, paired with strawberry-red tops. If it got too cold, layering a down coat on top should be enough.

She looked up to find Zhōu Yǒng still watching her. That gave her a headache. If he saw her as a buddy, That would have been fine. But Clearly he isn't.  

“What is it?” so Mò Xuéyáo had to pretend to be somewhat cold and ask..

But... wouldn't a cold person not ask?

“Ah—nothing, nothing…” he laughed awkwardly and quickly melted back into the group. The awkwardness evaporated instantly.

At the very back, it was still just her and Mr. Xue. Of all the boys, it was Mr. Xue who made her feel the most at ease. Maybe because he didn’t treat her as a boy or a girl—just as a classmate.

She almost slung an arm over his shoulder—bro-style—before catching herself.  

"Ahem".... She aborted the motion, walking on as if nothing happened. Although it had been more than a month, she still wasn't used to life as a girl. Unconsciously, she would forget her identity as a girl and think she was still a boy.

But this was very normal-after all, sixteen years of habit couldn't be changed just like that..  

"You really like reading, huh?"  

"Mn." He adjusted black-framed glasses. "No need for ‘Xuě Xiānshēng.’ Just ‘Xiǎo Xuě’ is fine."  

"Huh?" Not milking the honorific? Surprising.  

"Feels odd otherwise." He smiled. "Classmates should be casual."  

"Oh... then call me Xuěyáo." She touched her chin—She had once thought that when she grew a beard, she could stroke her chin nicely while talking, but she never expected... she would never be able to grow a beard.

"Okay." He nodded, examining his uniform. Everyone grabbed randomly; distribution happened in class.  

"Whose did you get?"  

"Gāo Yuán and Lǐ Wǎnyán’s."  

"Those two happen to be deskmates."  

"That's convenient."  

Their sporadic chat continued back to class. With half the boys mobilized, distribution was swift.  

"Xuěyáo, why’d you go down too?" Jiālè asked, already tearing open her bag.  

"Just happened to be passing by." Xuěyáo stashed hers in her bag—awkward to unpack here...

"Whoa! The winter uniform's thick! This skirt though... even if it's thick, it's still not warm enough. Gotta wear fleece-lined leggings. The jacket's thick too... and actually pretty cute." Wang Jiale unfolded the clothes, evaluating them aloud.

As she spoke, the charcoal-gray plaid skirt slipped from her hands and fell to the floor. Before she could bend down, a chubby hand swooped in.

"Damn, this skirt’s tiny!" Gāo Yuán—of course—held it aloft dramatically, then yanked it over his head. "Holy—doesn’t even cover my head?!"  

"You—you—!" Jiālè flushed crimson. "Pervert!"  

Ahem! Zhōu Yǒng and Hóngrǎn coughed in unison— signaling that he the crossed a line. Jiālè wasn't great at talking to boys to begin with. Playing around with her skirt like that-it was really crossing the line.

You could see it in her eyes-tears welling up, her adorable little face scrunched up.

"Your head being a whole size bigger than a girl's waist is perfectly normal, isn't it? After all, Wang Jiale is so petite and cute." As her deskmate, Mo Xueyao instinctively stood up for her. "Alright, alright, stop playing with other people's skirts. If you really like it that much, you can apply to the teacher to wear a skirt to school every day."  

The mental image of Gāo Yuán in a skirt made tearful Jiālè snort-laugh.  

Crisis averted.  

Gāo Yuán shot Xuěyáo a grateful look and seized the out—  

He gingerly placed the skirt back on the desk and fled like the hounds were after him: "N-no thanks! Don’t wanna get arrested!"

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[Note : In 1990s China, men wearing women's clothing in public could be detained for "disturbing social order".]