Still went with custom, but this time switched to ordering online—it was cheaper, just needed to wait a bit.
After being beaten and crazily snuggled, the two cats were so scared they probably wouldn’t dare come out for a while—it was still in time.
Only after finishing the cat issue could she finally feel at ease and continue taking art commissions—shouting in the artist group.
As a fellow artist, of course she had a few friends. Back then they were all on the same level. Now those people developed better, taking on advertiser jobs until their hands were sore.
Nan Zhi also didn’t lack commissions—but she lacked stable, high-quality, timely-paying, trustworthy, and rich ones. So she asked her friends to help introduce her.
If it were before, when she had free time, she’d help friends draw details. If she wanted to get commercial jobs, she just needed friends to pull some strings—no profit involved. But now things were a bit different, so she split the profit. Even so, there were still sincere ones—friends she still chatted with—who helped her without asking anything.
They brought her a few commissions. She drew very earnestly. After some time of practice, she was now steadier. Taking on big jobs wasn’t a problem. Once the sketch was confirmed, she’d draw directly. If she had time, she’d even offer a few rounds of revisions—and small images too.
After finishing and getting paid, looking at her account balance, she calculated the progress of getting Song Qing fitted with prosthetics—and only felt satisfied.
At 11 p.m., just before going to sleep, she remembered her little thought from yesterday. Nan Zhi ran upstairs, rummaged in the wardrobe, and quickly found that panda onesie.
When she first bought it, it was because of how cute it looked and the design. Although very loose-fitting, the model wearing it looked very slim. In the end, after it arrived, she realized it was an illusion—it was just very bulky.
But at the time, it was like she was possessed—insisting that the quality, design, appearance, and all those pros outweighed the cons, so she kept it. But when it came time to wear it, she found that compared to other onesies, this one was just extra big and bulky. She wore it like a child putting on adult clothes—couldn’t hold it up—really didn’t look good, so she hung it back on the rack and never touched it again.
The tag had been pulled off, so it couldn’t be returned. It could only sit in the wardrobe gathering dust.
Yesterday, she suddenly thought of it—she couldn’t wear it well, but Song Qing’s height could.
It was still brand new. Just sitting there wasting space and wasting clothing. Might as well give it to him.
Besides this piece, Nan Zhi also packed up a little devil sleep robe. It could reach down to the ankles. At night, waking up to use the bathroom, putting on clothes was troublesome. This kind of robe—just throw it on and tie a belt—was very convenient.
She had several pieces of clothing like this. Song Qing didn’t have any. This piece was entirely black—only had two wings on the back and little horns on the hood. Aside from that, there were no feminine markings at all. She packed it into the cardboard box too. And then there was a porcelain doll.
This porcelain doll was one of a pair—male and female. It’s just that one of them, while she was changing clothes, got knocked down accidentally, fell and split in two. She used tape to glue it along the back. From the surface it still looked fine—but actually it was already broken. Sometimes she’d pass by and see the crack, always felt it looked bad—so she threw it out.
But Song Qing picked it up again. He used some discarded sweater lace to circle around the waist, making it look like a small skirt—felt it looked even better. So she gave him the male doll too—to fulfill the couple pair.
Nan Zhi finished tidying up, hugged the cardboard box and went downstairs, placed it in the entry hall. At that time, Song Qing had already finished washing up, was about to return to the small living room, and paused when he saw her movement. He turned the wheelchair and followed her to the entry door, watching her put the items into the cardboard box from two days ago.
That cardboard box was specially used for placing things she didn’t want, so just as she placed them in, Song Qing asked from behind, “You don’t want them anymore?”
“Mm.” Nan Zhi tucked the intact box under her arm. “Too baggy. Doesn’t fit when I wear it.”
Song Qing pushed his wheelchair forward two steps. When his hand touched the soft fabric, he only felt—it’s a pity.
So new, looked like it had never been worn.
He picked it up, unfolded it to take a look. Very big—felt like even for him, it was more than enough, still a bit loose.
He held it up against himself and measured. As expected, there was a lot of space left over.
When he looked up again, Nan Zhi had already gone up the stairs, going back upstairs. Song Qing called out just in time, “Can I wear this one?”
It was clothing, so better to ask.
As for food, drinks, daily stuff, those were whatever—if she didn’t want it, he’d just pick it back up and use it.
Nan Zhi felt a burst of joy in her heart, and thought: this is exactly the sentence I was waiting for. “Of course! It was too big so I never wore it, just tried it on.”
That was the truth—if she had actually worn that kind of sleepwear, she definitely wouldn’t give it to him.
And since it was sleepwear, she didn’t force him either. Let him decide. If he wanted it, he could keep it. If not, then on a workday morning, wake up a bit earlier and find a donation box specifically for collecting clothes.
Song Qing nodded. With less worry about being treated as a pervert for wearing her clothes, he brought both sets of clothes back with him—along with that doll—and placed it beside the female porcelain doll.
Both dolls had their arms stretched out. When placed together, they could be joined hand in hand—just like a couple set.
After finishing with these things, he began trying on the clothes—first trying on the black furry robe with horns on the hood.
While trying it on, he thought: didn’t expect she had other sleepwear besides the white one, but he’d never seen her wear it before.
He looked down at himself.
No wonder it was this new.
So new—what a waste to just throw it away.
After putting it on, Song Qing felt it was still a little big. But he didn’t care about looks or whether it looked good or not—he didn’t even look in the mirror. As long as it fit, to him, it was perfect. So he took this one off and continued to try the other one.
That panda onesie—at first he was a little worried that it would be inconvenient to go to the bathroom wearing it, but very quickly he discovered that there was a zipper at the back—just unzip it and it was fine. Pretty good.
He felt at ease, slipped into the clothing, and wore this set on his body.
Just right. The pants had drawstrings at the cuffs—he liked this kind of pants. Pulling the strings to the tightest setting, the pant legs could be completely closed, and cold air wouldn’t seep in from below.
He was now different from before—his legs were shorter by a section. Cold air would come in from underneath, so every time he needed to tie up the bottom of the pant legs.
In spring it was convenient, but now it didn’t work. The thick lined pants couldn’t be tied, so he could only wear long johns inside and tie the bottoms of the long johns instead.
Song Qing was very satisfied with this set of clothes—felt like it was even better than new. The new ones were all non-drawstring styles. He bought those early on, back when he hadn’t realized this problem yet. It was only later that he found out. Although the ones he bought afterwards were all cuffed pants, the earlier ones were still open-ended.
When he had free time, he’d find elastic cords himself and thread them through to tighten the bottoms.
Nan Zhi had thrown away a few clothes before—sweaters and sweatshirts—all small and couldn’t be worn. But that sweatshirt just so happened to have drawstrings. He had already removed the strings and hadn’t found a chance to use them yet.
Because Nan Zhi had been around all day today, he’d wait until she went to work—then he’d fiddle with it alone.
Song Qing saw the cup he had placed by the bedside, reached out to get it, stretched his body out completely—the clothes weren’t small at all, and didn’t feel tight anywhere.
He brought the cup over, opened the lid and tilted his head back like usual, pretending to take a gulp. Just right—his arm didn’t feel restricted at all—very well-fitting.
Just as he thought that, he heard Nan Zhi calling him from outside. Song Qing screwed the cap back on, pushed the wheelchair out. He didn’t see Nan Zhi in the living room. When he looked up, he saw her upstairs, leaning at the window watching him.
Nan Zhi had timed it perfectly—she figured he should have finished changing by now, so she called out. Sure enough, when he came out, he was wearing the panda onesie.
At the collar, to block the wind, there was a scarf-like piece. He had tied it up for the try-on, and to tie that meant the hood had to be worn—so now he was fully geared up.
There were two black panda ears on the hood. His whole body was wrapped up tightly, only his face was exposed. From Nan Zhi’s high-up position, she could even see the little black tail behind him.
So cute.
She had thoughts in her heart, but didn’t show it on her face. She kept her tone calm and said, “Tomorrow I’m on the night shift—start work at five in the evening, so no need to wake up that early.”
Song Qing nodded—when he did, the ears on his hood bobbed along with the motion.
Nan Zhi felt pink bubbles almost floating up in her heart. She thought: all her scheming and effort to trick him into wearing this outfit was not in vain—the effect was exactly what she imagined. Super cute.
Back when he wore that pink fluffy hair clip himself, she had a premonition—Song Qing didn’t care about color or style. As long as he felt it was a pity to waste something, eight or nine times out of ten he would keep it and wear it himself. Back then, she already had this plan in mind—and as expected, it turned out exactly as she guessed.
Nan Zhi was happy inside, but still put on a serious face. “Sleep early. I’m going to sleep too.”
“Mm.” Song Qing responded to her.
“Good night,” Nan Zhi said, then went back into her room and closed the window.
Song Qing was downstairs. Whether or not Nan Zhi could hear him, he still replied, “Good night.”