Rinka gently tied the blindfold over little Jing’s eyes, making sure there wasn’t even a sliver of light peeking through. Once confirmed, she gave a light tap on the doorframe—Feng Jingsheng’s cue to make his entrance.

Honestly, it had been so long since I’d last seen Old Feng’s original form. After spending all this time with Fei, my mental image of him had been nearly wiped clean.

If I had to be honest, I’d almost forgotten what that stern-faced man even looked like. Just that his face was… kind of terrifying.

Old Feng had one of those classic square-jawed faces, the kind you’d call righteous-looking—if not for the fact that the entire left side, including his eye, was covered in twisted, charred burn scars. Dark brown, uneven, and deeply pitted… kind of like Deadpool, but the expression is much darker. One glance and you'd instinctively want to back away.

So honestly, it’s probably for the best that Old Feng ended up becoming Fei. With a face like that, there’s not much to miss.

Since he was back in his original body, of course there was no way he could still wear Fei’s outfits. Old Feng had changed into a clean but faded shirt and trousers—probably the best set he had in that old suitcase of his.

Thanks to Aunt Huaying’s steady presence beside him, that usual intense aura of his had softened considerably. As he stepped out from the room, he even gave me and Xiao Lei a small nod. But most of his focus—understandably—was on his daughter.

Rinka dragged a chair over from the dining table and placed it directly in front of little Jing. She motioned silently for Old Feng to sit.

He lowered himself onto the chair without saying a word. The one good eye he had left darted nervously around, blinking fast. You could feel the tension thick in the air. Even I was starting to feel a bit suffocated. Rinka swallowed hard. Xiao Lei finally stopped eating.
(Seriously, how long was she going to keep munching?)

“Alright, little cousin. Just follow my voice, okay?”

Rinka gently patted Jing’s shoulder, then leaned in close to her ear. “Now, lift your hand… palm facing up. Good. Now slowly stretch it out… higher…”

Under Rinka’s guidance, Jing’s hand reached forward… getting closer and closer… until it brushed against Ol… Uncle Feng’s chin—coarse and unshaven.

“Uwah!”

Startled, she jerked her hand back as if she’d been zapped. But then, cautiously, she reached out again. This time, her hand lingered. Her palm rubbed gently against the rough stubble of his jaw, feeling the subtle tremble beneath.

“…No way…” she whispered. But the truth had already taken root in her heart.

Her hand wandered upward, tracing the contours of his tightly pressed lips, feeling his warm breath, and then, unmistakably—those jagged, uneven burn scars.

“…Is it… Papa?”

And finally, the silent man opened his mouth, voice trembling:
“Jing’er… it’s Papa.”

The moment shattered. Jing ripped off the blindfold. Years of loneliness and resentment, all the anger and yearning toward her father—collapsed in a single word.

“Papa!”

She threw herself into his arms, arms locking around his neck, pressing her forehead against his stubbled chin.

Honestly, it looked a bit odd—she’s already thirteen and starting to grow up—but to her, he was still the dad who used to hoist her into the air and spin her around like a pinwheel.

Uncle Feng’s eyes were red with emotion. He gently patted her back, lips trembling as if wanting to say something. But then he looked up—at me and Xiao Lei—and hesitated.

…Oh. Is he embarrassed we’re watching?

I took a sip of my ice-cold cola. “C’mon, Uncle Feng, don’t mind us. Just pretend we’re not here.”

“Kai-chan, do you think this is some evening prime time soap?” Rinka groaned, dragging me by the arm toward the living room. She’d already yanked oil-slicked Xiao Lei up with her other hand. “Let the long-lost father and daughter have their moment in peace, yeah?”

“But! But! I’m the first-person protagonist! If I’m not there, how will the readers know what happens?!”

Xiao Lei snorted, spreading her hands.

“Pfft. Idiot Commander. We all know exactly how that scene goes:
‘Oh! I forgive you, Papa! I still love you after all!’
‘And I love you, Jing’er! I only left so you and your mom could have a better life!’
‘Oh, Papa!’
‘Oh, Jing’er!’
‘Papa!’
‘Jing’er!’
—Any reader traumatized by Qiong Yao dramas could improvise ten thousand words of this in their sleep.”

“Will you two morons shut up already? Don’t go breaking the fourth wall like it’s made of cardboard!”

Even though we decided not to eavesdrop, Rinka’s apartment really wasn’t that big, and the living room was connected directly to the dining space.

So while we couldn’t make out the exact words, we could still hear muffled, murmuring voices from behind us. If anything, it made me more curious.

I tried to distract myself. “So… what now? When is Uncle Feng planning to switch back?”

Rinka answered with a question of her own:
“Wait—does there even have to be a set time to switch back?”

Xiao Lei answered, “Nope, no time limit.”

“Then why can’t I switch back?” Rinka said. “Then what makes my transformation any different from Sis Fei’s? We both use the same moonstone transformation, don’t we?”

It was a sharp question. Xiao Lei fumbled: “Ah, um, because… your, uh… ‘male traits’ have already been… sacrificed as an offering!”

Ugh. “Male traits.” That’s such a terrible way to phrase it.

“Huh?! Why would the God of Bishoujo need my ‘male traits’ as tribute?!”

I stepped in to clarify. “You’re happy like this now, right, Rinka? Once you’ve fully accepted your female self—like really accepted it from the heart—your transformation locks in. So yeah, you can’t go back anymore.”

It was the same explanation we used back when Lei Meow Meow grilled us. Good thing our story still lines up.

“Wait, so Sis Fei hadn’t completely accepted it before today?”

“Right. But now that she’s had this moment, maybe she’ll finally be at peace with it. And that means… there’s no real reason to change back.”

Rinka mulled it over, chin in hand. Then she clapped. “In that case, let’s switch her back right in front of Jing!”

“Should we… really?” I hesitated. “Wouldn’t it be better to let Uncle Feng decide?”

“No, I agree!” said a voice behind us.

We turned to find Aunt Huaying standing there, somehow having snuck up without a sound.

Rinka clutched her chest in fright. “Auntie! Can you please make some noise next time?!”

“But why?” Xiao Lei still looked confused. “Wouldn’t it be harder for Jing to accept, knowing everything? It might make things awkward…”

Rinka shook her head. “Maybe for a while, sure. But it’d be worse if Sis Fei had to keep lying to her daughter. Secrets weigh on the heart, you know? And when people share secrets… they grow closer.”

“Is that true?” Xiao Lei muttered.

I could’ve sworn Rinka gave me a sideways glance just then.

“Yup. So, Kai-chan~ got any little secrets you wanna share with me? We can grow closer too!”

“Yeah, let’s not.”

I mean, yes—carrying this lie is stressful—but it’s still not the right time.

I pushed Rinka’s nosy little face away and turned to Aunt Huaying, who was stifling a giggle.

“You really think this is the right move, ma’am?”

“More or less~ Jing’s grown up. She doesn’t need to be protected from everything anymore. It’s time Jingsheng stopped carrying this alone.”

I hesitated, then asked, “Sorry if it’s too blunt, but… do you ever regret divorcing him?”

Aunt Huaying blinked, surprised. But then she replied softly, “Honestly, I regretted it the moment I signed the papers. But for Jing’s sake, both of us agreed it was the best way.”

“But Uncle Feng said… he never once regretted it.”

“I know. That’s just the kind of man he is.”

Personally, I don’t think divorce is ever a great solution. Uncle Feng did what he thought was right for Jing’s future—but in doing so, he also ran from his responsibility as a father.

Life’s challenges… are easier to face together, as a family.

“Xiao Lei, let’s go.”

“Right!”

Time for one more performance.

Let’s give little Jing the full version of—
The Grand Transformation.