I turned to look at the desk chair—sure enough, there sat another me, slumped and lifeless. Or should I say, the real me?

This body I was in now had been born from that glowing orb—my so-called avatar or clone.

The other body didn’t seem conscious at all, just lying there motionless in the chair. Honestly, if I hadn’t checked for breathing, I would’ve thought he was dead.

“Hey, wake up.”

Clutching my chest, I crawled over and gave the chair a little shake. No response. Weirdly, I felt relieved.

Because if he had woken up, I probably would’ve died of embarrassment right then and there. I know it’s still technically “me,” but after splitting off like this, it really feels like that’s just… someone else. And being stark naked in front of someone else? No thanks. I am not triggering that kind of shame-play scene.

Look, if a regular guy suddenly turned into a girl, it’s not like they’d let his bros grope them for fun. Even that perv of a mountain gorilla when turned into a girl still felt shame, okay?

Thanks to these two lumps of fat on my chest, just standing up threw off my entire balance—top-heavy doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Wobbling one step at a time, I made my way to the wall and flipped on the lights.

Girls transformed by the Bishoujo Notebook all have one thing in common: smooth, flawless skin. Probably because these bodies are freshly “manufactured” and haven’t faced the ravages of time yet.

The current me was no exception.

Even in the dim light, my skin glowed like fine porcelain. Once the bulb flickered on, I couldn’t help but gasp.

“W-Whoa!”

Big. White. Soft. They filled my entire field of view.

I sniffed. Nope—none of that so-called girly body fragrance. Guess this brand-new body hadn’t had time to emit excess hormones or pheromones yet.

As for the lower half… yeah, can’t even see past the upper half to check.

It was already 11:30 p.m. Tomorrow was the first day of school. Technically, I should be going to bed.

But I didn’t rush to turn back. Not because I wanted to do anything lewd, of course. I just really, really wanted a shower.

Seriously—just a shower, okay?!

A pure-hearted girl like me would never do anything naughty. Ehehe~ ✨

Ever since I broke my right leg and got it in a cast, it’s been over half a month since I had a proper bath. The most I’d managed was wiping myself down with a hot towel.

Sure, I’d mostly been in an air-conditioned room and barely broke a sweat, so the towel routine did the job. But emotionally? I felt gross.

I needed a bath. I wanted that full-body, steamy, soul-cleansing feeling.

Just do it!

In the bathroom mirror, I saw that my face hasn't changed much. Still as beautiful as ever. My hair hadn’t magically grown long like Meow Meow’s or Old Feng’s. From a guy’s perspective, it was already kinda long, but for a girl, it was a neat, short cut—shorter than Xiao Lei’s shoulder-length hair.

I did shrink a bit, though. Not that I was tall to begin with, but every inch counts when you're already chibi-sized.

This girl body hadn’t even existed for 30 minutes. It wasn’t dirty. Heck, there probably wasn’t even any [BLEEP] or [BLEEP] in this body yet.

I wasn’t thirsty or hungry either.

So the shower was quick.

Now, I know what you're thinking:
“Chang Kai, you finally turned into a girl—shouldn’t you at least give us some fanservice?”

You think I didn’t want to?! But I couldn’t, alright?

I mean, with a rack like this staring back at me, even the little leftover male thoughts in my brain were urging me to give them a squeeze just once…

But don't forget—the Notebook has a will of its own.

Anyone whose name is written in the Bishoujo Notebook gets monitored by it 24/7. Every move, every thought, every impulse—and all of it gets reported straight to Master Halliluya.

I don’t know how detailed those reports get, but ever since I found out about the constant surveillance, I can’t even watch mildly suggestive anime without feeling a weird sense of guilt. Just thinking about stuff makes me go into instant monk mode.

While toweling off, I gave my chest a light squeeze out of curiosity. They felt like water balloons filled with warm fluid—but tighter, denser, heavier. It made me instantly understand the importance of bras.

The shower felt amazing, but I didn’t have any clothes that fit. Even the tracksuit Tangerine wore when she first became human couldn’t zip up past my chest. And even if I forced it, I wouldn’t be able to breathe.

There was one pair of girls' underwear lying around—don’t get any ideas, it was Xiao Lei’s, hidden at my place.

But that flat-chested, no-butt gremlin’s panties barely fit. I could technically get them on, but they were tight, especially around the hips. Felt like being strangled by spandex.

In the end, I had to grab the air-conditioning blanket off my bed and wrap myself up in it. My face finally stopped burning, but the shame was still there. A blanket is barely better than being completely naked.

Even as an apprentice to a god, the Notebook’s mental feminization still affected me.

The girl’s body got her shower. But the unconscious original me hadn’t. It was a rare chance, so I filled a basin with warm water, determined to give my main body a decent wipe-down.

It took forever to drag my main body onto the bed, strip off the PJs—just left the boxer briefs. That’s the bottom line. No touching those.

Seeing my own sleeping face from a third-person angle was surreal. It was the same face, but from this perspective it felt… oddly unfamiliar. Still good-looking, though.

It also made me realize just how much weight I’d gained lately. My stomach jiggled like a pudding. Where did all that nutrition go? Certainly not toward healing my leg bones!

Wiping it down with a warm towel, I brushed my fingers across my own skin. A weird tingling sensation sparked through me—this male-female chemical reaction stuff is wild. But getting flustered by my own body? That’s just sad. I shook my head to banish the thought—

—And immediately threw everything into chaos.

I was still adjusting to this unbalanced physique. That quick shake messed up my center of gravity. I stumbled and fell straight toward the door, smacking my forehead with a loud PONG!

Dazed, soaked, and now sporting a shiny lump on my head, I sat up groaning. The floor was a disaster. I gathered the overturned basin and towels, rubbing my poor head and sighing nonstop.

Wet blankets, wet carpet—what a pain to deal with.

Then came footsteps—fast ones—from outside my door.

Oh crap. That loud bang must’ve woken up Dad!

I grabbed the basin and towels, scrambling to shut off the lights and hide in the bathroom. My main body was still lying in bed, so there's no way he’d be able to come in here—at most, he’d peek through the doorway and mutter something about anime girls and my questionable taste in posters.

But just my luck—getting up too fast knocked me off balance again. I went tumbling face-first… right into an Orz pose with my butt facing the door.

Damn these boobs.

Dad’s room was right next to mine. Just a few steps away. No time to recover. My plan was officially wrecked.

“Son? You okay? Did you fall outta—”

The door creaked open. My dad poked his head in—and made direct eye contact with me.

His eyes widened in horror. Then slowly… the light faded from them. Like something inside him just died.

Oh no. I’m toast.

“…Ying?”

But this time, he managed to let out a soft call before he completely shut down.

Dad’s mentioned before that I look a lot like my mom—the one who disappeared. I guess “Ying” must’ve been her name?

Pretty ironic. I don’t even know my mom’s full name. Dad refuses to talk about her, like I just popped out of a rock like some parentless monkey.

So yeah. Even if I want to find her someday, I have to complete this yearlong divine assessment.

Dragging a middle-aged man much heavier than myself back to his room was not easy in this girl body.

By the time I finished mopping up the floor, I’d totally lost the motivation to keep wiping down my main body. I peeled off the now-soaked AC blanket, balled it up, and tossed it in the bathroom hamper. Padding barefoot across the wet carpet, I sat back at my desk, erased my name in the Notebook—

—and let my consciousness fade once more.

Heart: exhausted.