After basketball class, Zheng Yang was practically floating.
She hadn’t played in so long.
The feeling of running, jumping, and sweating on the court—the way she directed her teammates’ movements while handling the ball as a guard, the way she charged through the enemy line as a forward, the way she nailed long-range shots as a shooter…
All of it coalesced into a key, unlocking a dusty room deep in her memory.
In that room lived a teenage boy—lean, tanned, running wild across the court, shooting, driving, defending with all his might.
After playing, he didn’t care about the sweat drenching him; he’d just twist open the faucet and pour water over his head.
That boy was her.
A long-lost version of herself.
The version that, when she was still a man, she could never go back to.
And now, in this daughter’s body, she had come alive again.
After dinner, before evening self-study began, the enthusiasm from the afternoon gym class should have faded by now.
But Zheng Yang was lying on the desk, face resting on her arm, the corner of her mouth still unconsciously curled up.
Beside her, Zheng Siyuan was writing some homework.
He glanced at Zheng Yang and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yangyang, did you get brain damage from playing ball? You’ve been grinning like an idiot for ages.”
“You’re the idiot,” Zheng Yang shot back, rolling her eyes, but her smile didn’t falter.
It wasn’t that she’d gone stupid from playing.
It was that she felt amazing.
Not just because of the game itself, but more importantly, her son, Zheng Siyuan, seemed to have gotten closer to Zhang Zihan and the others through playing basketball.
He was clearly becoming more outgoing.
hat one PE class was totally worth it!
And if she could keep playing ball with Siyuan, it would be even easier to build that “buddy” bond with him.
Could anything be better than this?
“I think Siyuan’s right,” Wu Chun’s voice came from the seat behind, and she poked Zheng Yang’s back with her pen.
“That stupid giggling of yours has reached me back here.”
Zheng Yang touched her back, turned around, and said to Wu Chun, “Let me laugh a little longer.”
Then she lay back down and continued grinning.
Wu Chun and Siyuan exchanged a rare glance, both shaking their heads with smiles.
Seeing that her son could interact so naturally with girls made Zheng Yang genuinely happy.
She laughed even louder.
Zheng Yang thought to herself that she could play every day at noon from now on, just like in her old high school days.
After all, she had plenty of time at noon, the school had a basketball court, and Zhang Zihan and the others practically lived out there.
The only downside was that she’d be drowsy for the first couple of afternoon classes.
And she’d bring Siyuan along.
The thought excited her.
The next day after lunch, Zhang Zihan, true to form, didn’t go to the dorm for a nap.
Instead, he showed up at the classroom door and waved to her.
“Yang Ge, let’s go! Play ball!”
Zheng Yang stood up almost reflexively.
“Coming, coming!”
She patted Siyuan’s shoulder, said “Come on,” and ran out.
When she reached the door, she suddenly realized something.
She looked down.
A skirt.
Zheng Yang’s smile froze on her face.
“I… I’m not going.”
She started walking back.
“Why not?”
Zhang Zihan looked confused.
“I don’t have pants,” Zheng Yang said quietly.
“The locker room’s open! Just go change into a pair!”
Zhang Zihan pointed outside casually.
“The janitor auntie’s there too. Just ask her.”
Oh.
Right.
She’d forgotten about that.
So she grabbed Siyuan and trotted out.
Wu Chun watched them leave, feeling a pang of jealousy.
She muttered under her breath, “Traitor… prioritizing friends over your bestie.”
Then she buried her face in her arms, ready for a nap.
On the court, Zheng Yang had already changed into a pair of dark blue sweatpants.
Not only that, but to play ball, she’d begged Wu Chun to take her to buy a sports compression bra.
She did a few jumps and felt that the bouncing in her chest was indeed a bit less noticeable.
She was satisfied.
But once she actually started playing, she felt her chest was reacting even more violently than yesterday.
It was heavy and bloated.
A little painful.
She was puzzled.
It wasn’t bouncing as much…
Within five minutes, Zheng Yang didn’t dare make any aggressive moves like layups or drives.
She kept rubbing her chest.
The boys exchanged knowing smiles.
After ten minutes, whenever she got the ball, she’d only dribble twice before passing, and the frequency of her rubbing increased.
The boys enjoyed the view, but they couldn’t help being concerned.
Zhang Zihan asked, “Yang Ge, did you get bumped or something?”
Zheng Siyuan wanted to ask too, but he didn’t have the nerve.
Zheng Yang forced a smile.
“No bump. Just… a little uncomfortable. You guys keep playing. I’m going to rest for a bit.”
She waved her hand and walked off, still rubbing her chest.
Zheng Siyuan wanted to follow her back, but Zhang Zihan stopped him and whispered, “It’s a girl thing. What are you following for? Play ball!”
Then he called out to Zheng Yang, “If you’re really feeling bad, don’t hesitate to call us brothers for help!”
Zheng Yang raised a hand in acknowledgment.
She knew Zhang Zihan meant it, even if there was a hint of teasing in his tone.
After she walked a distance, she looked back and saw Siyuan playing with the others again.
She smiled with relief and continued toward the classroom.
In the classroom, Wu Chun hadn’t fallen asleep yet—maybe still feeling jealous.
Her deskmate had gone back to the dorm for a nap.
Zheng Yang entered the room but didn’t go to her own seat.
Instead, with a hint of guilt, she sat down next to Wu Chun.
Wu Chun heard the noise, looked up, and smiled in surprise.
“Yo, the star’s back?”
“Star? Don’t call me that…”
“Why aren’t you playing?”
Zheng Yang was silent for a few seconds.
She glanced around the classroom, then leaned close to Wu Chun’s ear and lowered her voice even more.
“Chunchun, my chest hurts.”
Wu Chun blinked, then let out a snort of laughter.
“What are you laughing at!” Zheng Yang lifted her head, face bright red.
“Okay, okay, I won’t laugh.”
Wu Chun pressed her lips together, barely holding it in.
“What kind of pain? Be specific.”
“It’s… bloated and heavy. It pulls downward when I run, and it hurts when I jump. Even now that I’ve stopped, it still hurts.”
Zheng Yang rubbed as she spoke.
“Rubbing doesn’t help.”
Wu Chun’s eyes darted around, and her expression gradually turned serious.
“Yangyang,” she said, lowering her voice further, “are you sure you haven’t gotten your period yet?”
“Ah… that… yes.”
Zheng Yang’s brain began to short-circuit.
Period.
She had been a girl for almost four months and had never gotten her period.
She’d even wondered if there was something wrong with this body.
But now, with Wu Chun bringing it up, she didn’t have to wonder anymore.
Instead, she panicked.
She asked with a sliver of hope, “So it couldn’t just be from the bouncing from playing ball?”
Wu Chun chuckled.
“Playing ball might have triggered it, but I think it’s about time for you. You’d be hurting even if you didn’t play.”
Zheng Yang’s body went limp.
“Then… what do I do?”
Wu Chun snorted and gave her a sideways smile.
“You’re close with Siyuan, Zihan, and those guys. Go ask them.”
Zheng Yang gave an apologetic smile.
“Chunchun, stop teasing me.”
“Only at times like this do you turn back into my little sticky bun!”
“I was just playing ball. Playing ball is temporary. You’re my forever best friend.”
Zheng Yang said this and rested her head on Wu Chun’s shoulder.
Wu Chun covered her mouth and laughed.
“Since you’re being more obedient than a puppy, I’ll forgive you.”
Zheng Yang nuzzled into her a little more.
“Alright, back to business.”
Wu Chun sat her up.
“At your age, it’s about time, and these symptoms are classic precursors. So my gut says you’re about to get your first one.”
“About to? How soon? It won’t be this afternoon, will it…”
Zheng Yang’s face turned pale with fear.
Wu Chun burst out laughing again.
“Not that fast. At the earliest, maybe a week or more. At the slowest, a month or two.”
Zheng Yang breathed a little easier, but the anxiety about the unknown still lingered.
She told Wu Chun, “Let me calm down a bit,” then closed her eyes and chanted to herself like a mantra:
‘Zheng Yang, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just a normal period for a normal girl. You’re 38, an old man. You’ve been through storms, you’ve endured hardships. Are you scared of something this small? Other girls handle it just fine. How could you be worse than them?’
Logically, it made sense.
But in her mind, another voice reminded her:
‘What does a period mean? It means you’ve completely become a woman, with the ability to bear children. It means you’ll go through physical discomfort and mood swings every month. It means you’ll have to face pregnancy, childbirth in the future…’
Her heart suddenly raced.
She couldn’t bear to listen anymore.
She shook her head and opened her eyes.
“Chunchun, the more I try to calm down, the less calm I get!”
Zheng Yang said, rocking her body in agitation like a little girl pleading.
“See, that’s another classic symptom.”
Wu Chun held up a finger.
“Emotional instability.”
Zheng Yang flopped onto the desk.
“I’m going to be controlled by my period…”
She’d genuinely thought she had fully adapted to this female body.
Apparently, she was still a rookie.
Wu Chun lay down too, meeting her gaze.
“Starting tomorrow, you need to bring a few more things in your backpack—pads, spare underwear, and preferably a whole roll of toilet paper.”
“Hmm~”
Zheng Yang let out a soft whimper through her throat, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Wu Chun.