Chapter 36: Poster Girl (Two in One)

“I-I-I did it!”

Jiang Lingwei donned fake cat ears, a pendant-style (not insertable!) tail, and clutched the hem of her catgirl maid outfit. As Magical Girl [Aurora], she layered an “ordinary person” disguise over her transformed state: pink hair dulled to light brown, tied into twin ponytails, sparkly effects muted, and her magical girl filter suppressed to the minimum.

This was a classic Zero Generation trick to blend into crowds, but for Jiang Lingwei, it required an extra transformation step compared to others.

It was necessary for the job. If customers saw her filter and left, her work would be pointless, even counterproductive.

At the dressing table, Wen Yaquan applied light, cute makeup. Jiang Lingwei glanced at her barely changed reflection, then at Wen Yaquan. “Why do I feel more uneasy?”

“Come on,” Wen Yaquan grinned, gripping her shoulders. “Ever heard of Chocolate and Vanilla?”

“It’s a trial run. If it draws a crowd, great. If not, I’ve got other plans. No pressure.”

“That’s why I’m stressed!” Jiang Lingwei pointed at her outfit. “Billboard girls are crafted roles—people work long-term, get famous, then become mascots. You’re dropping me into this blind. What do I even do?”

“Hey~ Use your initiative. Show your skills. It’s a test from your boss. Do well, get rewards~”

“You’re getting less reliable by the second.”

“Hey~”

“Wait.” Jiang Lingwei blocked Wen Yaquan’s high-end camera lens. “Where’d you get that? Never mind—what’s it for?”

“To photograph you, duh.” Wen Yaquan blinked, shaking the camera. “I’ve got a pro photography certificate. You’ll look stunning.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Jiang Lingwei blushed, tugging her skirt. By 2012 standards, it wasn’t too short, with stockings and safety pants for modesty. Her youthful figure didn’t risk exposure.

Still, she felt mortified.

She’d worked in maid and cat cafés before—nothing shameful about earning money. But that was secretly. Even Beifeng didn’t know her workplaces, chosen to avoid acquaintances.

Now, in front of Wen Yaquan, an old friend, in this outfit, she couldn’t switch to work mode.

“Didn’t we agree photos were okay?” Wen Yaquan said.

“Yeah… for work…” Jiang Lingwei muttered.

“I’m your boss. Pretend you don’t know me.”

“That’s not fair!”

Jiang Lingwei was at a loss. In work mode, she could handle photos as part of the job, especially transformed. But with an acquaintance, her usual mental trick—“Nobody knows me”—faltered.

It was like posing cool outside, only for Spider-Man to crash through your window while you’re striking an Ultraman pose, watching him fight his nemesis in your room. Pure, absurd embarrassment.

She reconsidered. Most billboard girls were just famous café waiters. She’d done this work before, with plenty of experience.

Just… more proactive now?

Ding dong.

Her phone pinged. Jiang Yao texted she’d skip dinner to hang with friends. Jiang Lingwei replied, urging caution, then pocketed her phone.

After Wen Yaquan teased, “I’ve got three more cameras!” Jiang Lingwei relented, let her snap photos, and descended the stairs under her friend’s eager gaze.

On the second floor, she spotted the clerk who’d swiped her card, waiting warmly—likely due to Wen Yaquan or their new colleague status.

‘Good thing I’m disguised. Recognition would be fatal.’

Checking her state, Jiang Lingwei calculated: in this low-power mode, she could maintain it for hours despite slow magic loss.

Relieved, she followed the clerk.

“I forgot to introduce myself,” the clerk said in a quiet second-floor corner, smiling. “I’m Liu Xiaoqing, store manager. Call me Sister Xiaoqing.”

“Yes, Sister Xiaoqing.”

‘I didn’t realize she’s the manager…’ Jiang Lingwei missed her taller, twenty-something body. She could’ve been the “big sister” then. Now, her youthful look and height felt off.

‘No, I’m young!’

“What’s next?”

“Here.” Liu Xiaoqing handed her promotional posters. “The boss wants a ‘banner girl.’ Start by handing these out outside. Mention our 20% storewide discount and free grain giveaway. I’ll handle the store with others. The rest is yours.”

“Flyers? Got it.” Jiang Lingwei nodded. This clear task felt reassuring compared to the vague “poster girl” role.

The manager’s authority outshone Sister Koizumi’s.

As for “grain”… Jiang Lingwei pictured coffee seedlings. ‘Is that trendy now? Whatever, I’ll figure it out.’

Then Liu Xiaoqing added, “Don’t stress. The boss said to do whatever. If the store tanks, she’ll pay me ten years’ salary.”

She winked, exuding “Go bold!” vibes.

Jiang Lingwei nearly tripped. No wonder the trust—Liu Xiaoqing was as unreliable as Wen Yaquan, banking on bankruptcy!

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the posters and stepped through the first-floor crowd to the door, Liu Xiaoqing’s expectant gaze behind her.

Outside, the commercial street bustled under daylight. People milled about, their colorful hair and odd outfits—cosplayers?—standing out. Few noticed her beyond passing glances.

‘Comic convention? Weird.’ In 2012, these were niche. So many cosplayers felt off.

She brushed it aside. Her job was unrelated.

To stand out, she needed courage. With a business smile, she held a poster at her waist, raised her voice, and called, “Dear young masters and ladies, welcome to Yaoguang Coffee Shop! Starting now, we’re offering—”

‘Something’s wrong.’

Mid-speech, she scanned the crowd. Many stopped, some with cameras, staring curiously.

Normally, people took flyers or left. Why just watch?

“Uh… hello?” She waved.

Then—

She was mobbed.

“Is that Chocolate?! From the game?!”

“Such an old title, and still cosplayers? I’m tearing up!”

“Royce, Royce, you’re a fragrant, soft, sour-sweet cake!”

“Where’s Vanilla?”

“Can Royce do a stamp collection?!”

“Expand the list, Royce!”

“Everyone—everyone—” Jiang Lingwei gaped. Were they speaking Chinese? She understood nothing.

Mimicking the Statue of Liberty, she raised a poster, translating their words in her head. “Want photos? Talk later, I’m working… at Yaoguang Coffee Shop…”

“Let me see!” “Gimme a flyer—”

Before she finished, hands grabbed posters.

Liu Xiaoqing and staff emerged, shouting, “Guests, feel free to snap photos! Buy a set meal for a group pic!” She turned to Jiang Lingwei, signaling.

“Right~”

Spotting Wen Yaquan in the crowd, waving Hei Dou’s paw, Jiang Lingwei realized she’d been set up by Ziben.

‘Ugh, Ziben’s the worst!’

Worse, Wen Yaquan shouted, “Do that pose!”

“Uh…” Jiang Lingwei eyed Hei Dou, stiffly raising her arm in a claw. “Meow~”

“Wow!! Royce, you really—”

“My God, Royce…”

“Woooow—”

‘Okay, mood’s lively.’ Amid shutters and cheers, Jiang Lingwei, dazed by the new generation’s praise, stayed professional. Smiling, she posed. “20% discount, meow!” “Thanks for visiting Yaoguang Café, meow!”

Until—

“Aurora…?”

A puzzled voice cut through.

Jiang Lingwei, mid-cat-paw pose, froze at the familiar tone.

Turning, she saw two backpacked girls meters away. One stared, stunned.

“…”

Her brain blanked for seconds. She raised a hand, forcing a smile. “…Hello.”

Her vision soared, soul fleeing her body, as if screaming like Munch’s painting.

‘Good girl!!! Why are you here?!’