Chapter 25: Gender Change Again in Front of the Love Rival

Scenic Hotel, Room.

The moonlight poured through the window, casting a silver glow over the double bed. Lu Qingqi lay restless, unable to sleep. The reason? His rival, Liu Wangjiang, who once tried to steal his girlfriend, was less than half a meter away, his expressionless face infuriatingly smug in the moonlight.

Staring at Wangjiang’s sleeping form, Lu Qingqi’s mind churned with the same nagging question: Why don’t my powers work on him? They worked fine on random thugs. With a thought, the virtual panel flickered into view, displaying [Gender Swap], [Mental Domination], and [Forced Extreme].

Combined, these could turn an innocent boy into a submissive “female dog,” yet they failed on Wangjiang. Try again? Lu Qingqi mused. I’ve failed before—what’s one more? Maybe this time…

Change for me!

He focused on Wangjiang, eyes locked.

One second. Two. Three.

Wangjiang slept on, undisturbed, not even a frown.

Then, a swelling pain bloomed in Lu Qingqi’s chest, like something expanding. His hair brushed his ears—longer now, fully covering them. His skin felt softer, his body exuding a delicate warmth, laced with that faint orchid fragrance.

Damn it! [Gender Swap] backfired again.

He moved to reverse it, but a sudden growl from his stomach stopped him. A ravenous hunger hit, hollowing him out. His vision darkened, consciousness blurring. Before he could react, he collapsed onto the bed, still in his female form, out cold from hunger.

In a haze, he felt a warm, wet sensation on his fingertips, a slight nibbling pressure.

Liu Wangjiang, roused from light sleep, opened his eyes. In the moonlight, he saw Lu Qingqi, somehow closer, clutching his finger, rubbing it gently.

The dim light obscured details, but Wangjiang could make out parted lips and furrowed brows. When did Qiqi pick up this habit?

He tried to pull his finger free, but Lu Qingqi gripped tighter, mumbling, “So hungry… I want to eat…” Her voice, soft and sticky, was unlike his usual brash tone—a kitten’s plea.

Wangjiang froze, letting her nibble, his gaze lingering. The moonlight traced her slender frame, shorter than earlier. Her hair, now shoulder-length, draped softly. Her loose pajamas revealed a subtle curve at the chest, more pronounced than before, hinting at soft, pale shapes beneath the fabric.

“Growing so fast?” he murmured. “The medicine’s working well.”

His fingers, almost instinctively, reached through the thin pajamas, grazing the swell.

“Woo—” A faint, trembling groan escaped Lu Qingqi’s lips.

The soft, full sensation sent a jolt through Wangjiang. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his body reacting instantly. Despite his aloof reputation, he was no ascetic. Desire coursed through him—raw, primal. He just knew how to leash it, where to channel it.

But now, seeing her flushed cheeks and parted lips, he wanted a taste—a dessert before his plan’s fruition. He leaned down, burying his face in her chest, inhaling deeply.

The orchid scent, mixed with her unique fragrance, hit him like catnip, making him shudder. Incredible. He hadn’t felt this alive in years.

His obsession—lush, soft curves—was no secret. And hers were perfect.

After a long moment, he pulled back, purple eyes burning with restrained desire. Staring at her furrowed brows, he muttered, “If you were born a girl… how perfect.” His fingers brushed her cheek, voice dripping with obsession. “But I’ll change you. Bit by bit, on the operating table, until you’re my Qiqi.”

“Hungry…” she mumbled, voice small, aggrieved, like a starving cub.

The desire in Wangjiang’s eyes softened, replaced by a patient, almost deranged devotion. He gently freed his fingers, still wet with her saliva, and got out of bed. He grabbed instant oatmeal packets from his backpack, boiled water, and cooled the mix before propping her up in his arms.

“Open your mouth,” he coaxed softly.

Drawn by the aroma, she obeyed, parting her lips. He fed her spoonfuls of warm oatmeal. Color returned to her face, the weakness fading.

After several packets, he set the bowl aside, watching her slump back, relaxed. A soft laugh escaped him, tender in the moonlight. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her smooth forehead, treating her like a fragile treasure.

“Thank me, Qiqi,” he whispered. “I want you—your heart, your love. Or I’d have you on that operating table already.”

His fingers traced her delicate cheek, his gaze soft yet laced with a cruel, obsessive edge.