Morning And Evening Chapter 23

“Please, junior brother, if you don’t help us, our show is going to be a flop…”

Actually, it wasn’t that exaggerated. The production assistant was surprised by how well He Mu danced, so she exaggerated and asked He Mu for help. However, He Mu didn’t understand this at all. He felt that if he didn’t help, they would really mess things up, so he was in a dilemma, looking left and right, but didn’t say anything.

He never imagined he would be dancing in front of everyone dressed as a woman. For him, women’s clothing meant disguise, a barrier, and protection, making him feel comfortable. When he put on women’s clothing, he was no longer He Mu, no longer the quiet and taciturn He Mu who went to and from class alone.

He Jun also wanted He Mu’s help, but he couldn’t be too forceful, so he said tactfully, “We’ve been waiting for months. Even if you don’t come, nothing serious will happen. At most, we’ll handle it simply. Don’t feel pressured.”

His words added to He Mu’s pressure. He Jun patted He Mu’s shoulder reassuringly, and the others, seeing that he had spoken, fell silent and simply looked at He Mu.

For the first time in his life, He Mu was being looked at by so many expectant eyes. He recalled how Chang Ming’an had looked at his students with admiration and praise when they were working on a project. Since these people were so eager to see his dance, it might not be bad. Perhaps Chang Ming’an would think it was good too.

The thought of Chang Ming’an possibly coming to watch him dance made his heart flutter, and his ears burned uncontrollably. He quickly pulled his scarf up a bit, cleared his throat twice to cover it up, and said somewhat reservedly, “I’ll give it a try.”

The script supervisor repeatedly assured He Mu that she would find him nice yet appropriate clothing, and apologized repeatedly for having He Mu dress as a woman. However, she didn’t know that He Mu didn’t mind at all.

After leaving the small theater, He Mu went to the teaching building for two classes and then went home. Chang Ming’an had classes all day and wasn’t home, so He Mu, unusually, took an interest in tidying up. He swept and mopped the floor, moved the wilted winter plants to a sunnier spot, and even wiped each leaf with a tissue. Humming a song, he carefully walked around the house to prevent Mu Mu from tripping him.

He opened the wardrobe, took out the cheongsam, intending to iron it, and found that the one he liked the most, the black one embroidered with begonia flowers, had its ruyi-shaped buttons, which he had previously re-stitched, completely come undone, and the slits, which he had previously altered, were also coming undone. He Mu hadn’t worn it for a long time, and that’s when he noticed it.

He immediately called Lian Heng.

There was a lot of noise and music coming from Lian Heng’s end. It seemed they were out partying before sunset. He said lazily, “What’s up? You don’t come here unless you need something. What happened to your precious clothes again?”

Lian Heng was practically He Mu’s only friend, though they weren’t particularly close. They’d only met once in the same online forum. Both liked women’s clothing, and after a brief chat, He Mu discovered he was a fellow alumnus, studying fashion design. Lian Heng had an eccentric and unconventional personality, but He Mu found him surprisingly comfortable. They gradually became acquainted, and because Lian Heng also loved cheongsams, he offered to alter an old one left to He Mu by his mother.

He Mu told him about the clothes. The old buttons on the cheongsam had long since fallen off and been lost. The current buttons were made by Lian Heng. They specially found similar fabrics and matching patterns at the time.

Lian Heng said, “Alright, bring it over.”

“Where to take it?”

Lian Heng seemed to have had some alcohol. Her voice was hoarse, and she spoke in a whimsical, evasive way. “The usual place.”

The “old place” Lian Heng mentioned was the bar where the two of them met. It was a well-known gay bar in the area, frequented by cross-dressers, and many people with similar fetishes hung out there. He Mu used to be a regular there, but he rarely went recently.

He looked up at the time. Chang Ming’an still had evening classes, so he just needed to get back before then.

He Mu picked out a thicker cheongsam from the wardrobe, wrapped it around a coat, slipped on thin stockings, and, after a long absence, put on makeup, carefully outlining her lips. Standing in the entryway, she hesitated for a moment, then ultimately hung the scarf Chang Ming’an had lent her back on the coat rack. He Mu looked at herself in the mirror. A refined cheongsam-clad woman, a dark brown beauty mark under her almond-shaped eyes, drawn with an eyebrow pencil.

The previous sense of ease and comfort after dressing up has diminished, but there is now a greater appreciation for pure beauty.

He Mu stepped into her high heels, squatted down and rubbed Mu Mu’s chubby face. She picked up her neatly folded cheongsam and turned the doorknob. She was in a hurry because she was afraid of being seen by the neighbors. Instead, she bumped into Chang Ming’an, who was about to open the door and come in.

Chang Ming’an originally had evening classes scheduled for tonight, but they were temporarily changed this month. He came home wanting to ask He Mu to go out for dinner together, something hot to eat on this cold day. He Mu was walking in a hurry, and Chang Ming’an’s toe was stepped on by He Mu’s high heel, making him gasp in pain.

He Mu quickly stepped back, unsure whether to squat or stand, and apologized repeatedly.

Chang Ming’an looked him over. Underneath his overcoat was a light blue cheongsam embroidered with large clusters of wisteria blossoms, giving off a springtime feel. He Mu suddenly reached out, his unpainted fingers touching Chang Ming’an’s lapel, and whispered, “Sorry, I brushed against you.”

Chang Ming’an looked down and saw that it was lipstick. Correspondingly, He Mu’s lower lip was also smudged a little.

“It’s nothing,” Chang Ming’an wiped his finger with his finger, leaving a little sticky red on the tip. “Where are you going?”

He Mu thought to himself, “He clearly knows, or thinks he knows, so why is he asking a question he already knows?” He didn’t know what he was feeling guilty about, why he had to rush out before Chang Ming’an returned and come back early, so that no one would notice. Or perhaps, subconsciously, he was still bothered by his several unpleasant first and second encounters with Chang Ming’an.

Chang Ming’an was also guessing, but he knew he had no right to ask He Mu to do anything, nor could he do anything. If he acted like a teacher, it would definitely offend people. He could only tentatively say, “I… I’ll take you?”

Having been rejected by He Mu so many times recently, Chang Ming’an almost subconsciously assumed that He Mu was going to reject him again, and even if she did, he would still insist on giving it to her. But to his surprise, He Mu bit her bright red lips with her pearly white teeth and said, “Okay.”

He Mu turned sideways and went out first to press the elevator button.

He thought of the hands and feet he had placed in Chang Ming’an’s bed when he woke up that morning, and a sliver of hope lingered in his heart. This sliver of hope was like a cushion placed at the bottom of a building to catch someone falling, making him want to recklessly try to jump and see if Chang Ming’an could catch him. If not, the result would be nothing more than being smashed to pieces, not much different from before he met Chang Ming’an.