"Alright everyone, let’s come up with a maid alias for this cutie."

In the café, a “maid alias” was a cute nickname used in place of one's real name—like “Xiao Jiu.” It was written on your nametag and introduced to customers, while your actual name stayed under wraps to avoid… clingy or troublesome fans.

Basically, it was no different from calling yourself “Resonance Deathfang” or “Jaou Shingan” or “Yoruha”—all part of the same chūni tradition.

“How about calling her ‘Xiao Ban’?” Xiao Lei chimed in right away.

She clearly got the idea from the black-and-white stripes in senior Changpu’s hair—it did resemble a zebra. Honestly, her thought process was way too easy to read.

Xiao Jiu instantly objected, “Nope nope nope. ‘Xiao Ban’ is neither cute nor cool. Think again.”

“Then... what about ‘Xiao Xiongmao’?” Xiao Lei offered.

This girl was clearly just listing black-and-white animals now. Also, pandas and red pandas are not the same thing!

“Okay, that’s cuter, but still a no,” Xiao Jiu said, still unimpressed.

Maybe we needed a reference point. Like, where did “Xiao Jiu” come from anyway?

“Why are you called that, Miss Xiao Jiu?” I asked.

She scratched her head and tossed her high ponytail. “Huh? No big reason. My real name has the word ‘Qiu’ in it. So I was ‘Xiao Qiu’ at first. But the owner thought ‘Xiao Jiu’ sounded cuter, so we changed it.”

So it’s based on a character in the name?

If we go by that logic… we could do “Xiao Chang,” “Xiao Pu,” “Xiao Jian,” or even “Xiao Lian”?

Hmm… “Xiao Lian” doesn’t sound bad—but it might give things away too soon. If Xiao Jiu figures out the truth, it’ll make senior’s shifts awkward.

“How about you, senior Changpu? Got anything in mind?”

She raised a finger to her brow like adjusting invisible glasses and replied:

“I don’t think we have to stick to the ‘Xiao X’ format. Something like… Ningyan, Mengyao, or Xiwu. Those are fine, right?”

What are you, a courtesan from an old-school brothel?

This just proved how out of touch she was with otaku culture. Poor girl was definitely in the wrong industry.

Unsurprisingly, Xiao Jiu also shut it down.

“No way, Changpu. This is a manga café! People won’t ring with such a traditional name.”

“All you do is shoot down ideas,” Xiao Lei grumbled. “Why don’t you suggest something, then?”

Xiao Jiu rested her chin on her hand, deep in thought, brows furrowed—until suddenly she clapped, smiled, and said, “Oops, I’ve got customers to take care of! You guys keep brainstorming!”

And with a cheeky pat on her skirt, she vanished into the café like a ninja.

Xiao Lei stuck her tongue out at her back, like a kid throwing a tantrum.

With Xiao Jiu gone and the owner staying in full silence, it was clear that once again, the burden of brilliance rested on me—the wise and discerning protagonist.

“Okay,” I analyzed, “Senior Changpu’s naming sense was bad, but her direction was right. We don’t need to stick to the ‘Xiao X’ template… How about Felis Meow Meow?”

Xiao Lei groaned. “Sure, that works—for a maid in another dimension! That’s not even from this world!”

“Okay, then how about Miss Monochrome? Totally fits her vibe, right?”

She slammed her hand on the table and pointed at my nose. “Isn’t that a robot idol? You’re just naming your favorite characters now!”

Damn, she saw right through me. That’s Xiao Lei for you—unrivaled in her weeb trivia.

“Look,” I argued, “as long as no one recognizes it, what’s the harm? It still fits the vibe of a manga café maid, right?”

“At least pick ones that aren’t so obvious!”

“Fine. Then how about... Sakiko?”

“Ooh! That’s a cute name! But… what’s a Sakiko?”

Xiao Lei didn’t know what it meant, but still seemed into it. Even the turtle hermit owner perked up at the sound.

The one who suggested it was Changpu herself—she’d been flipping through a manga on the shelf.
The cover read Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun. I wasn’t into shoujo manga, but I guessed “Sakiko” was the heroine’s name. (Actually it was the male lead’s pen name.)

The surprising part? She said it with perfect Japanese pronunciation. How did someone who didn’t understand otaku culture… know Japanese?

“You speak Japanese, senior?”

She nodded and scratched her cheek, slightly embarrassed.

“Eheh… just a little. Not enough to brag about! I worked at a bookstore, read some business Japanese books, and used it to pass the interview at a Japanese restaurant.”

Wait, what? That’s considered “just a little”?!

She added, “Since this place is a manga café, I figured pulling a name straight from manga would be appropriate.”

At long last, the owner spoke: “Hmm… Sakiko has a nice ring to it. And ‘咲’—that kanji means bloom. Perfect for a flower name. Let’s call her Saki-chan!”

He nodded, clapped, and made it official.

“Wait, hold on. I thought it was Sakiko?”

The owner leaned over and said, “Kid, you don’t think Sakiko sounds like ‘孝子’ in Chinese? That’s… not ideal.”

Okay, fair. That did sound a little old-fashioned.

He patted Changpu’s shoulder. “From today onward, you’ll go by Saki. Now go report to Xiao Jiu and start your shift.”

“Yes, owner!”

Straightening her uniform, Saki jogged off. She had plenty of experience in service jobs and was already handling customers like a pro, though… something still felt missing.

Meanwhile, Xiao Lei jabbed a finger at her own chest. “Hey! What about my alias? What am I gonna be called?!”

“Let’s see… how about Kizuna Ai, Cirno, Aqua, or Quincy?”

“You jerk! Those are all idiot characters!”

Huh. Seems like she still hasn’t come to terms with her own core trait.

“Come on, don’t overthink it. Just pull a character from your name like Xiao Jiu did. Right, Xiao Lei?”

“My name is already a single name, Zhao Lei! That’d be no different from using my real name! Aren’t aliases supposed to hide that?!”

The old owner chimed in again: “Hmm… still a good alias. It has that budding flower feel. Let’s go with Xiao Lei.”

I glanced down at her chest. Yeah… “budding” was about right. Probably forever.

“Hey! You can’t just pick one that casually!”

After that, Xiao Lei gave the owner her measurements for the custom maid outfit, and I handed the house key over to senior Changpu. We were ready to head out.

As we made our way toward the exit, Changpu—now fully dressed as a maid—came running after us in tiny steps, her new loafers tapping rapidly across the floor.

“You’re leaving already?”

Xiao Lei nodded. “Yeah, I’ve gotta escort Commander home. I’ll skip work orientation today.”

“Then I’ll call once I get to the bridge house.”

“Do your best, senior! You’ve gotta earn your hundred-yuan-per-hour keep!”

Even though the old man had questionable taste in naming and people, he was still a businessman—not a charity. No one’s getting paid just to be cute.

You had to earn repeat customers, sell more drinks, and rack up those membership cards.

This manga café was deep inside the underground shopping street. Walk-in customers weren’t reliable—it lived off online reviews and otaku word-of-mouth. Basically, high prices but solid reputation. Just look at Zhao Zhao acting like he owns the place.

The next day, Friday after school, neither I nor Zhao Zhao tagged along with Senior Jianlian.
But he was doing fine. He called when he got to the bridge house, then changed into her uniform, and headed off to work solo.

As for the topic of enrolling in university as a girl…
Still no answer from him.

But that’s okay.
Give it time.
Once he’s more used to working in a maid’s uniform, I’m sure his thoughts on that will start to shift.