Without realizing it, I glanced at the clock on the wall—6:30. Had I really been painting for over three hours?

Time always seems to pass so quickly when I am immersed in my work...

Setting down the flat-tipped boar-bristle brush, I gazed absentmindedly at the reflection in the full-length mirror. The beauty staring back at me looked equally dazed.

She was breathtaking—snow-white skin, perfectly proportioned body, radiating an enchanting glow.

So flawless that... I was starting to feel hungry.

I ran a hand over my flat stomach—time to sort out dinner.

There were no ingredients at home, and even if I wanted to go out, I had no women's clothing. I was tempted to just walk out as I was, but once outside, I’d be bound by society’s rules. Otherwise, I’d probably get arrested.

"Guess I'll just order delivery."

After placing my order through an app, I draped a white cloth over myself, walked barefoot down the stairs, and decided to make some tea while I waited—just a brief break before diving back into painting.

Today had been full of surprises, thanks to Rinka and Chang Kai.

First, Rinka had transformed into a real girl through the miraculous moonstone. Then, I discovered that the Aphrodite I had long dreamed of was actually a boy from my own school.

And finally, even I had turned into a woman.

Though the effect would only last until midnight, it was enough for me. Still, it was a shame that I'd never have such a perfect model again.

But perhaps Chang Kai could still get more moonstones.

If he himself could turn into a girl and had proportions as refined as mine… then he’d truly be the ultimate model.

I brewed a pot of Longjing green tea, set the teapot and cup on the coffee table, and sat down on the air-conditioned mahogany sofa. The chilled surface against my bare back sent shivers down my spine, and my pale pink nipples hardened from the cold.

Maybe I should grab a thicker blanket—getting sick would be troublesome.

"A smile, huh?" I recalled Chang Kai’s words and picked up my phone, opening the camera to try.

Hmm… creepy.

Did he really think this expression looked good?

I hoped he could truly peel away the countless masks and find the real Rinka, and save her in the process. If he could achieve what even I had failed to do… perhaps then, I wouldn't mind giving him a smile.

But by then, I'd be back in my male body. Would he still accept me?

My gaze fell on a book carelessly tossed on the coffee table—an eyesore in this otherwise orderly space.

Dreamy Fragrance, published by Lilim Publishing, authored by Miyanaga Kohime.

A romance novel targeted at women… probably something Rinka forgot to take with her.

The cover featured a crying girl with unnaturally large eyes, her fingers forming a V sign—so thin they resembled a pair of chopsticks.

The bizarre proportions made my scalp tingle—so this was the protagonist?

I’d return it to Rinka next time, but for now, I needed something to pass the time. I might as well take a look.

Pouring myself a cup of oolong tea, I took a sip. The warmth and aroma spread through my body.

The novel opened with an ordinary-looking heroine mustering the courage to confess to her crush, only to be rejected.

But by chance, she received the blessing of the God of Love, gaining a unique body fragrance that attracted men.

As a result, she found herself entangled with various handsome men, each competing for her affection through a mix of humorous, heartbreaking, and touching encounters.

Yet despite her newfound popularity, what she truly sought was the one man who loved her for who she was—not just for her scent.

Was it because I was in a female body?

I never expected this book to be so engaging—I was completely absorbed.

A cold yet passionate, self-restrained student council president… how intriguing.

If I had to nitpick, it would be the illustrations. Odd proportions aside (which could just be the artist’s style), the real issue was that they failed to capture the depth of the characters.

The author had done such a great job fleshing out the protagonist’s personality, yet the illustrations reduced her to a mere seductress chasing after men.

I couldn’t help but wonder if the illustrator had even read the book properly. Had they truly connected with the author’s vision? Had they delved into the souls of the characters?

If this was the standard for professional illustrators… I might as well do it myself.

The doorbell rang—right on time. My food had arrived.

"Sir, your delivery—uh, whoa!"

Standing outside was a young man with black-and-white tousled hair, dark eye bags, and sickly pale skin—wait, were his cheeks slightly flushed?

Ah, was he flustered because I was only wrapped in a white cloth?

Yet another soul enslaved by desire—how vulgar.

I tightened the cloth around myself, half-hiding behind the door. "Are you planning to keep staring? Where's my food?"

"S-Sorry!"

He thrust the bag into my hands and bolted as if running for his life.

Honestly, I wasn’t going to eat him.

"Wait… he looked kind of familiar?"

"Could he be from our school?"