Category: His Character Isn’t Quite Right (Page 4 of 5)

That night, Zhong Weishi had a bizarre dream.

In the dream, Gu Lizhou took him to one of those high-end barbershops where you needed a membership card just to get your hair done. The new stylist, Tony¹This term was coined by Chinese young people to jokingly refer to hairdressers. It was when someone complained in an online forum that their hairdresser chatted all the time while giving them a haircut just to sell hairdressing products and prepaid membership cards. The netizens also mocked that the hairdressers always give themselves English name where Tony, being the most popular choice., gave him the ugliest bowl cut imaginable, complete with bangs that revealed his eyebrows, making it look like he was wearing a safety helmet on his forehead.

When the hair at the back of his head was lifted, a rainbow dye job was revealed underneath.

It was gorgeous, enchanting, and expensive—but completely unnatural for a normal person.

Behind him, Gu Lizhou exclaimed a “wow” and clapped his hands. “It looks great, looks great, it really suits you.”

Zhong Weishi was on the verge of tears, but he only had two small coins left in his pocket, nowhere near enough to pay for the haircut.

Next, Gu Lizhou took him to a boutique and bought him a designer suit worth several thousand yuan without batting an eye.

The two of them then sat in a luxury car together.

Zhong Weishi was confused. “Are you asking me to be your best man?”

Gu Lizhou smiled mysteriously, gently caressing the back of his head. His movements were soft.

Zhong Weishi caught a faint whiff of tobacco.

“Not the best man… the male prostitute oh.”

Zhong Weishi suddenly woke up!

The first thing he did after waking up was check his hair. Thank goodness, thank goodness, it was still intact.

He let out a couple of deep breaths, and his heart rate slowly returned to normal.

The air conditioning in the room had a mediocre cooling effect, and the nightmare had left his forehead sweating profusely.

As he got up to brush his teeth and wash his face, he seriously started analyzing this strange dream.

It was probably because, deep down, Zhong Weishi still thought of Gu Lizhou as a kept man—a gigolo, perhaps?

Was he?

Was he not?

Other than a rich second-generation or a gigolo, he really couldn’t think of any profession where someone could laze around all day without working and still live so carefree and comfortably.

After rinsing his mouth, Zhong Weishi opened the window and shouted, “Aunt Song! One jianbing, please!”

Auntie Song looked up and responded, “Got it~”

Just as Zhong Weishi pulled his head back in, a head popped out of the back window of Room 303.

“You’re making a lot of noise.” Gu Lizhou’s tone was unfriendly, laced with a strong dose of morning grumpiness.

Startled, Zhong Weishi stuck his head halfway out the window to face him. He felt a bit embarrassed, especially after recalling last night’s dream.

“The early bird gets the worm.”

“What about the early worm?”

“Yawn, the lazy person’s excuse.”

The windows in Zhong Weishi’s bedroom hadn’t been cleaned in ages, and the outer layer was covered in dusty grime, so he couldn’t clearly see Gu Lizhou’s expression. But he could see him stretch lazily, yawning with both hands covering his cheeks.

Zhong Weishi thought of how, every time Qiangzi yawned, he would open his mouth wide like a roaring beast. Sitting across from him, one could even see his trembling little tongue—a complete lack of decorum. But Gu Lizhou was different.

Even his yawns were elegant.

It’s a pity he’s a gigolo.

Wait, what’s a pity about a gigolo? Isn’t being a gigolo a profession in itself? Looking attractive and being seductive—that’s a unique skill, right?

Ah, ah, ah…

No!

A gigolo is basically the embodiment of a greedy, lustful, lazy, and degenerate man!

Zhong Weishi felt like the two little figures in his head were about to start fighting. Just as he was about to close the window and head out, that degenerate man on the opposite side said something that nearly made him stumble.

“Do you have a decent job there to introduce me to one?”

“Ha?”

The corners of Zhong Weishi’s lips twitched, and a thought instantly popped into his head: Did this guy got dumped by a rich woman?

Just as office workers spend every day wondering what to eat for their three meals, Gu Lizhou’s daily routine was about finding ways to add some amusement to his otherwise dull life.

Recalling how he’d once told Gu Lizhou at the police station, “Oh, so you’re unemployed. You should’ve just told me earlier—I could’ve shared a job with you,” he casually asked the question.

He thought if something came up, great; if not, then forget it.

But to his surprise, Zhong Weishi became unusually enthusiastic about Gu Lizhou’s job search, almost like an old father researching college applications for his son.

His excitement was overflowing.

“You’ve come to the right person if you’re looking for a job.” Zhong Weishi dragged a chair over in front of Gu Lizhou, putting on the look of a seasoned guide. “Do you have any special skills?”

Gu Lizhou stretched out a leg.

Straight and long.

“…” Zhong Weishi pursed his lips, resisting the urge to curse. But in order to help this lost lamb find a new direction in life, he held back his temper and smiled kindly. “I’m serious. What kind of work experience have you had before ah?”

Gu Lizhou hadn’t expected him to ask that and, fearing he’d dig further, hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”

Zhong Weishi knew from Gu Lizhou’s moment of hesitation that it had to be an unspeakable and disgraceful job.

Good, it’s nice to see a grown man knowing shame.

He patted Gu Lizhou on the shoulder. “Then, congratulations on deciding to turn over a new leaf. You’re still welcome in the harmonious society.”

The more Gu Lizhou listened, the more confused he became, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Zhong Weishi: “Have you thought about what kind of work you want to do?”

Gu Lizhou: “Whatever.”

From the moment he signed with the Xinghe Century website, he hadn’t considered doing anything in his life besides creating. He hadn’t thought about loving anything else either. This “whatever” sounded casual and indifferent, but underneath it lay deep helplessness and pain.

Of course, Zhong Weishi couldn’t sense his state of mind and only saw him as the typical example of someone with no ambition, just going through the motions.

Zhong Weishi pulled up a WeChat group dedicated to job postings, and the first message made his eyes brighten.. “Come, how about you look at this? I think it’s perfect for you.”

Hearing this, Gu Lizhou leaned in with anticipation.

The job was for a male technician at Cloud Paradise. Requirements: handsome and charismatic, suave and elegant. Local dialect and Mandarin fluency are a preferred. Exceptionally good-looking candidates will be hired with special consideration. No experience necessary; training provided. Room and board included.

Salary: 5,000-10,000, no upper limit.

The slap that Gu Lizhou threw out was crisp and loud.

Zhong Weishi, rubbing the bump on his head with a pained expression, said, “Didn’t you say whatever? This job pays so well. What’s wrong with it? Besides, look at the requirements; it’s practically tailor-made for you!”

Gu Lizhou raised his arm again, and this time Zhong Weishi dodged quickly. “I-I-I-I’ll look for another one! I’ll keep looking!”

Gu Lizhou barely managed to suppress his fury.

Did he look so powerless?!

At least back in the day, he was the king of the Xinghe Century website, dominating the top of the charts for years!

He had an SSS-level diamond badge, and he was the only one on the entire site with it! He broke records in clicks, favorites, and sales—anything with a number, he was first!

The kind of first that is far ahead!

“Then how about this one?” Zhong Weishi, still excited, handed him another job listing.

Security patrol for factory grounds. Requirements: No gender preference, aged 30-45, hardworking, able to endure hardships, follow instructions, no stuttering, no infectious diseases, and a passion for security work.

Salary: 2,500-3,200, with a full attendance bonus of 100, meal subsidy of 8 yuan per meal, and overtime pay at 1.5 times.

Food and accommodation included: 4-6 person dorm with air conditioning, water heater…

Gu Lizhou: “…”

This time, Zhong Weishi dodged the moment Gu Lizhou raised his arm. “What are you doing ah! What are you doing ah! What’s wrong with this one now ah! I think you meet all the requirements ah! It’s an easy job most of the time, but in critical moments, you can show off your manly prowess. If I were old enough, I’d do it too! And did you see the meal subsidy!”

Gu Lizhou mentally repeated “killing is illegal” several times, took a deep breath, and pointed to his hair. “This hairstyle cost me 3,600. Do you think this salary is enough to even get stuck between my teeth?”

Zhong Weishi, stiff-necked, lectured him: “You need to be practical, understand? You’ve got no work experience and no real skills, yet you still want a high-paying, prestigious job. Where do you think you’ll find that ah! If I could, I’d have already taken it! It wouldn’t be your turn!”

Gu Lizhou simply didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “At least show me a job that requires some skill. This is work an old man walking his bird in the park could do. Isn’t it a waste of talent to have me do it?”

Zhong Weishi: “You’ve already wasted 32 years anyway.”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

“You want a job with some skill, right?” Zhong Weishi pointed backward with his hand. “You know that ‘Chengmei Cross Stitch’ downstairs? They’re always hiring skilled cross-stitch workers. No age limit, and the more you work, the more you earn. It’s all based on skill. One piece can get you a few hundred in commission. I noticed you’ve got long, slender fingers; you must have talent for this.”

Gu Lizhou clenched his fists so hard his bones cracked.

Zhong Weishi sighed helplessly, “Why are you so difficult? This doesn’t work, that doesn’t work. Why don’t you just pretend to be deaf and mute and go beg on the street! I’ll ask around the film crew and borrow a beggar’s outfit for you.”

Gu Lizhou fell silent, realizing that letting a retard plan his life had been a catastrophically wrong decision.

Zhong Weishi thought Gu Lizhou was seriously considering the suggestion and tilted his head at him. “You’re not actually taking this seriously, are you? Have you forgotten what Old Li told us? Have you forgotten the oath you swore at the police station? From now on, be a decent person. Do you still remember the Eight Virtues and Eight Shames? Be proud of hard work and ashamed of laziness and bad labor! Brother, don’t lose yourself at the crossroads of life ah—”

Zhong Weishi racked his brain to educate.

Gu Lizhou rested his hand on his forehead and weakly waved him off. “Enough, just leave me alone.”

Zhong Weishi took a bite of his now-cold jianbing guozi and gently urged, “I’m not trying to discourage you ah, but when you’re just starting to look for a job, don’t set your expectations too high. As long as you can earn a living, that’s enough. Just look at me, I’m doing just fine. In life, the most important thing is to be happy. Happy every day, you know?”

At the mention of the word “happy,” Gu Lizhou slumped over the table, his eyelids drooping like a depressed cat.

He really wished he could experience that kind of retarded happiness, but who let him have a brain that just wouldn’t stop?

Zhong Weishi swallowed the rest of the jianbing and was about to leave, but curiosity got the better of him and he leaned closer. However, after thinking about it, he realized that invading someone else’s privacy probably wasn’t right, so he stood up again.

Without lifting his eyelids, Gu Lizhou muttered, “Spit it out.”

This is what you asked me to do ah!

Zhong Weishi sat back down, nudging his shoulder. “What did you… do before ya? It seems like you made a lot of money.”

Gu Lizhou knew he was trying to fish for a part-time job. “You wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Zhong Weishi stiffened his neck. “Why can you do it and I can’t?! How do you know I can’t?”

Without hesitation, Gu Lizhou replied, “Your factory settings didn’t come with a brain.”

Zhong Weishi was so furious he seethed with anger, and blurting out, “Oh, so you’ve got a brain? If you’re so smart, how come you can’t even find a job?”

Gu Lizhou gave him a sideways glance. “Who told you I couldn’t find a job? When I was dominating the scene, you were probably still in some corner drinking milk.”

Zhong Weishi threw his head back and laughed out loud.

“Don’t believe me?”

“Tell me about it, then ah.”

Men just couldn’t be provoked.

Gu Lizhou took a deep breath, preparing to modestly but impressively reveal his past achievements.

“Let’s put it this way, I’ll give you a few hints, and you can try to guess.” Gu Lizhou said.

“Alright ah,” Zhong Weishi was intrigued.

“Internet, characters, plot, world-building, fantasy, classic… absolutely epic.”

Zhong Weishi clapped his hands. “So, you were playing online games?!”

“Really close!” Gu Lizhou pointed to himself with pride. “I’m the guy who created that legendary world.”

Zhong Weishi frowned, “Sold computers?”

Can’t communicate at all ah!

Gu Lizhou slumped back onto the table. “Scram ah, I need some time alone.”

“Don’t ah, don’t ah,” Zhong Weishi nudged Gu Lizhou’s shoulder. “You’ve already said this much, just satisfy my curiosity. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow, “You really want to know that much?”

Zhong Weishi opened his mouth slightly and nodded eagerly.

Gu Lizhou ran his fingers through his hair, leaning back. “Actually, I’m someone who had immense popularity online, created countless classics, and once dominated the entire…”

“Wait wait wait,” Zhong Weishi pulled out his cell phone, “I need to take a call.”

“Hey! It’s Zhong Weishi ah!”

“En, en, en, Mr. Sun ah. Hello, hello, hello, you’re saying!

“Can ah, can ah! To be honest, I’m a hugely popular model in my social circle, creating countless hits, and was just this close to becoming famous. Payment per day works fine.”

“Uh-huh, and you’re giving out free sample underwear after the shoot ah? So good! You’re the most generous boss I’ve ever met, hehe.”

Zhong Weishi happily walked out, leaving behind a lonely figure in the living room.

Gu Lizhou sighed helplessly.

It was true that his legendary story could only be reduced to a topic of conversation after everyone’s tea.

No, it didn’t even get a turn in the conversation.

After all these years, did any of his readers still miss him?

After he stopped writing, Gu Lizhou focused on his treatment—exercising, traveling, sleeping, relaxing, and engaging in social activities. He took part in all sorts of beneficial pastimes, except for reading.

He didn’t even have the courage to log back into the Xinghe Century backstage again.

He felt sorry for those who had loved him.

Forget it! Stop thinking about it! Sleeping is what matters most now.

Gu Lizhou launched himself onto the bed, just about to drift into sleep when his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

It was a message from Zhong Weishi.

[The Head Thing from 301]: I’ve found another great job for you.

[The Head Thing from 301]: High pay, low effort, the only requirement is that you’ve got to be handsome with good genes. Half of the world’s population can’t even apply, which shows how exclusive it is. And the most important part: to complete it, you’ll need real skill! I think it’s absolutely perfect for you. You’re the only one for this!

Gu Lizhou didn’t even want to reply, but couldn’t suppress a tiny bit of curiosity.

[Useless Yet Awake]: ?

Zhong Weishi sent a small advertisement on a roadside utility pole asking for a child.

I, Zhang Miaochun, 30, curvy and charming, my husband is a local businessman, but due to an unfortunate accident, he has lost his ability to have children. To continue the family’s huge business empire, we are seeking a tall, strong, healthy, and handsome man to help me fulfill my dream of becoming a mother… Successful pregnancy will be generously rewarded.

Gu Lizhou blocked him without hesitation, but a moment later, Zhong Weishi sent a friend verification request.

[Weishi]: Hey, hey, hey, it was just a joke! Don’t be mad ah! Be a man and let it go!

[Weishi]: Hello?

[Weishi]: Alright,, I’m sorry! Forgive me!

Gu Lizhou laughed as he added him back and updated the contact note.

[Useless Yet Awake]: You’re annoying as hell.

[Lunatic]: Oh, right. You didn’t finish what you were saying earlier. What is it that you do again?

[Useless Yet Awake]: A rich man who makes money while lying down and doing nothing.

[Lunatic]: …

Gu Lizhou tossed his phone aside.

Inside, he felt extremely comfortable.

The little kid also wants to save face, so Gu Lizhou accepted the offer of an annual subscription to watch the performance.

Thus, the two empty nesters in Room 303 gained an additional entertainment activity before dinner each day.

Fearing they’d get bored of watching flips, Zhong Weishi added a variety of commercial performances, including Wing Chun,¹Lit. Singing Spring Boxing. It is a concept-based martial art, a form of Southern Chinese kung fu, and a close-quarters system of self-defense. It is a martial arts style characterized by its focus on close-quarters hand-to-hand combat, rapid-fire punches, and straightforward efficiency. yo-yo, playing with diabolo,²Diabolo or also known as Chinese yo-yo. This object is spun using a string attached to two hand sticks (“batons” or “wands”). spinning top, and the Thomas Flair…

Thanks to him, Gu Lizhou even dreamed at night about sitting in the corridor watching someone play with diabolo.

Beside him, an old man fanned himself with a palm-leaf fan.

Although everything besides the flips and martial arts was so terrible that it made you want to throw rotten eggs, Gu Lizhou still gave face and clapped, “Good—”

Zhong Weishi tugged at his clothes and turned around, smiling at him.

The boy’s eyes curved into two small crescent moons, and the arc of his smile was contagious.

This smile…

The dream ended.

Gu Lizhou stared at the ceiling for a while, then got up to change clothes.

“Hey, Old Gu, you’re up ah. Help me send those two boxes on the table to the film crew later,” Cao Zhiheng said as he packed his things. “My dad’s been complaining about stomach discomfort these past few days, so I’m taking him for a gastroscopy to see what’s going on.”

“Oh, is he alright?”

“He’s fine when he eats and drinks, just has occasional dull pain. I’m guessing it’s gastritis.”

“En, do a checkup to rest assured.”

Gu Lizhou glanced at the things on the table. They were already packed in a cardboard box, with a sticky note indicating the address and recipient.

Next to it was a temporary staff card, probably something needed to enter the film set.

“Have you been to the Film and Television City before? It’s pretty big. The ‘Capital City’ crew is over in Area A. Anyway, once you’re inside, you’ll see signs, and if worse comes to worst, just ask someone,” Cao Zhiheng said as he bent down to tie his shoelaces.

“I’m not retarded.” Gu Lizhou said.

Cao Zhiheng chuckled, “I’m just worried you’ll get lost. You absolutely have to deliver it before noon ah. They need it tonight, the props team will start setting the scene this afternoon.”

“En,” Gu Lizhou nodded. “Mission guaranteed.”

When Cao Zhiheng left, he took the car with him. As Gu Lizhou was having breakfast downstairs, he called for a Didi,³Brand of taxis you can call in advance, similar to Uber. and just as he put down his chopsticks, the car arrived on time.

The driver, a man wearing sunglasses, complained even before he got in, “Aiyo, this area’s full of potholes. The road’s really not good to drive on.”

It was currently the rainy season, and it rained continuously for several days in Yucheng. The Xicheng District looked like a post-apocalyptic wasteland, too miserable to see.

Today, the weather finally cleared up, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of damp grass. However, the roads were still slick, and mud had splattered on Gu Lizhou’s sneakers.

It was the same in the Film and Television City.

Private cars weren’t allowed inside, so Gu Lizhou had to sit by the roadside, holding the two large boxes, and make a phone call.

Across from him was a huge set resembling the streets of old Shanghai, where a film crew was shooting. A group of extras was holding protest banners and shouting loudly.

Even though he was separated from the crew by dozens of meters, he was still moved by the intense atmosphere.

He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but the boy at the front of the crowd looked a bit familiar in profile.

“Bang, bang, bang—” Several gunshots rang out.

The boy’s knees went weak, and he collapsed onto the ground, his face hitting the muddy surface without any cushion.

Gu Lizhou’s heart tightened.

There was no protective on the ground, and the shot was done in one smooth take.

It looked painful just watching it.

The boy quickly got up, wiped his face, and moved aside.

Suddenly, a man wearing the exact same outfit as the boy appeared in front of the camera.

Surrounded by a group of staff members adjusting his clothes, this person knelt down on the ground.

After the second “action,” that golden face slowly fell toward the ground.

The camera lingered on a long close-up of his face.

When the director called “cut,” everyone cheered, and two makeup artists ran over to clean the lead actor’s face from the mud.

Gu Lizhou’s gaze followed the little stand-in among the crowd, watching him sit alone in a corner, scrubbing his face with bottled water.

Gu Lizhou looked up at the cloudless sky and inexplicably let out a sigh.

The entertainment industry really is cruel.

In fact, every circle is cruel.

There are only a few opportunities.

The rest can only continue to work hard in places where others can’t see.

After a series of five or six phone calls, someone from the film crew finally picked up.

“Sorry ah, we were busy just now. My phone was on silent, so I didn’t hear it. Where are you? I’ll come over and get it.”

Gu Lizhou gave his location, and as soon as he put down the phone, he saw a flamboyant figure leaning on a railing across the street, waving at him.

The scorching sunlight poured down, reddening the boy’s cheeks, and even the strands of his hair gleamed with light.

Droplets of water ran down his chin, slipping into his collar. The outfit, identical to the lead actor’s, accentuated his tall, slender figure.

That smile—it perfectly overlapped with the one Gu Lizhou had seen in his dream that morning.

Zhong Weishi raised both hands above his head, waving them back and forth, still holding the protest flag.

Because the crew had set up barricades for the shoot, he could only stand ten meters away and watch. When their eyes met, Zhong Weishi was unexpectedly enthusiastic.

“Are you here to watch me film!”

“…” It seemed like the retard’s problem couldn’t be changed.

Gu Lizhou let out a laugh. He walked over at a leisurely pace. “Yeah, are you the stand-in for the lead today?”

“Ah, I’m the stand-in for the second male lead,” Zhong Weishi, seeing someone he knew for the first time on set, was a bit excited, though not dumb enough to think Gu Lizhou actually came to watch him act. “What brings you here?”

Gu Lizhou pointed with his finger. “Helping a friend deliver some stuff to the crew. That was you up front earlier ah?”

“En.” Zhong Weishi nodded and smiled, showing no embarrassment despite his minor role. He shook the water from his hair. “One take! Handsome, right!”

“Handsome.”

Gu Lizhou noticed that Zhong Weishi had a small scr4p3 on his temple. He pulled out a semi-transparent band-aid from his wallet and handed it over. “Need one?”

Zhong Weishi wanted to say he couldn’t put it on yet since he had several more scenes to shoot, but his right hand instinctively reached out to take it. “Thanks ah, you’re just in time.”

Gu Lizhou smiled slightly, “You’re welcome.”

Hearing the assistant director calling for people, Zhong Weishi quickly dropped a “See you later!” before rushing off, as energetic as a young cheetah.

In a trance, Gu Lizhou seemed to see a reflection of his younger self in Zhong Weishi.

The sun overhead grew more intense.

Gu Lizhou lit a cigarette, squinting slightly as he watched that figure running tirelessly.

Many of the actors had messy hair and makeup, but Zhong Weishi’s long, agile limbs and energetic presence, along with his striking appearance, made him stand out in the crowd.

One scene was a gunfight, and the little cannon fodder played by Zhong Weishigets shot and fell directly from the second floor, landing on a dirty cushion.

When he got up, he held his lower back and kept rubbing it.

It looked like it hurt.

Gu Lizhou suddenly recalled Zhong Weishi’s embarrassed expression when he returned the new clothes to him.

“These clothes… I feel like I don’t really need to wear something so nice…”

He had really wanted to say at the time: ‘They definitely suit you.’

Unfortunately, he never saw him wear that T-shirt again.

Later that afternoon, Gu Lizhou received a call from the police station, informing him that Zhang Gou had been caught, but since they couldn’t reach Li Yuqin, they needed him to come down to the station for further details.

That visit ended up taking several hours.

Back at 303, Gu Lizhou was exhausted, collapsing onto his bed like a dead dog. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

Zhang Gou had confessed to his fraudulent activities, but he had spent all the money he scammed on anchor rewards and his remaining assets only added up to not more than 5,000 yuan.

Zhang Gou, an orphan since childhood with a low level of education, was a typical example of someone who lacked discipline and was greedy for money and lustful.

When the police entered the room, they were almost knocked out by the stench inside. Zhang Gou was in the middle of a heated chat with a female anchor on a video site. She was halfway through a sultry dance when the police cut the video.

“I really don’t have any money! Just shut it down. Anyway, I’m just one person. I don’t need to feed anyone else! It doesn’t matter where I stay. But seriously, I have no money left!”

Gu Lizhou had to say “murder is against the law” countless times before he could suppress the urge to strangle him on the spot.

300,000 yuan wasn’t a small amount of money. His mom would be devastated once she found out that none of it could be recovered.

She was the kind of person who would rather hide and cry in private than confide in others. She might even fall into depression over this.

They have to find a way to return the money to her.

He absentmindedly fiddled with the buttons on the remote control, his thoughts in disarray.

The money itself wasn’t the issue; the problem was how to return it.

It would be best to have someone else pretend to be a police officer and pass it on behalf of her.

Just then, another short knock sounded outside the door.

“Anyone home?”

“Wanna watch me do some Cat’s Cradle⁴It is a game involving the creation of various string figures between the fingers, either individually or by passing a loop of string back and forth between two or more players. ah?”

Gu Lizhou’s eyes curved into a smile, and his entire body seemed to come alive. “Sure!”

Zhong Weishi had been excited at first when he heard Zhang Gou was arrested, but when he learned the 300,000 yuan was gone, his expression immediately darkened.

“Do you know which streamer he rewarded?”

“Why, are you thinking of getting the money back from her ah?”

“Try and see.”

“The police already contacted her. Not long after the call, she deleted her account. She’s from out of town, thousands of miles away. Where would you even begin to look?”

Zhong Weishi was deeply disappointed, but after hearing Gu Lizhou’s plan, his eyes widened in disbelief. “You want me to impersonate a police officer to deceive someone ah? Isn’t that illegal!”

Gu Lizhou let out a ‘yo’, “So you actually know what the word ‘illegal’ means ah?”

“Of course. Last time, I swore to the heavens at the police station that I wouldn’t do bad things anymore. I’m not going.” Zhong Weishi said.

Gu Lizhou said, “You’re delivering money, not scamming people. It’s not illegal—it’s basically just cosplay. Besides, isn’t that your thing anyway?”

Zhong Weishi shot him a glance. “I’ve got a proper job.”

Gu Lizhou remained unbothered. “I’ll give you 200.”

“My appearance fee is 300 per job,” Zhong Weishi said, standing firm.

“Don’t push your luck ah.”

“500.”

“Despicable.”

“800!”

“….” Gu Lizhou gritted his teeth, barely holding back the word ‘shameless’ out of his throat.

After receiving his advance payment, Zhong Weishi was overjoyed, doing several fancy flips from room 303 all the way to the end of the corridor.

Gu Lizhou couldn’t fathom where someone could find so much energy to burn. He felt tired just lying around all day.

Ah, youth.

When Zhong Weishi flipped back, his head was drenched in sweat, and the band-aid on his temple was soaked, barely sticking to his skin.

Gu Lizhou felt uncomfortable just looking at it and hooked his finger.

Zhong Weishi walked over. “What’s up ah?”

When Gu Lizhou raised his arm, Zhong Weishi instinctively flinched back. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t move.”

Gu Lizhou peeled off the band-aid on Zhong Weishi’s temple and replaced it with a new one.

His fingertips were slightly cool, with a faint smell of smoke.

His action was unexpectedly gentle.

Zhong Weishi felt a bit dazed.

It was the first time in his life someone had ever put a band-aid on him, and it was a guy!

The proximity was so close, the atmosphere was hard to define whether it was strange or ambiguous. In short, it was subtle…

It made one unconsciously hold their breath.

He even thought, somewhat inappropriately: If this were a scene in a TV drama, the next step would probably be a kiss!

“Work is so exhausting, and you get hurt so easily. Have you thought about switching jobs?” Gu Lizhou’s voice was soft, like sunlight, delicate and gentle.

“I just like filming.”

Zhong Weishi looked up, meeting Gu Lizhou’s deep, dark eyes. He even noticed a tiny mole hidden beneath his eyebrow.

Alright, this was definitely fvcking ambiguous!

Gu Lizhou had double eyelids too, but it was unlike Zhong Weishi’s slightly drooping, peach-blossom eyes.

His eyes were narrow, long and slightly hooded, giving off a lazy and nonchalant vibe, always making him seem like he hadn’t fully woken up. But once he was fully awake… you’d realize his gaze was sincere and focused, as if he could see through every little thought.

Just like now.

Zhong Weishi blinked nervously a couple of times and quickly looked away.

“Your health is the most important.” Gu Lizhou smoothed out the band-aid and flicked Zhong Weishi’s forehead with his index finger. “All done.”

Zhong Weishi let out an ‘ow’, rubbed his forehead, and then touched the band-aid. After thanking him, he turned and left without daring to look back.

The setting sun bathed the sky in a warm orange-red hue.

Gu Lizhou watched the slender figure walking away and hooked his lips.

No matter how cruel the world may be, it can’t stop those determined steps.

Because there is always light ahead.

“Come in and have a seat.” Cao Zhiheng opened the door and began clearing the various props off the sofa. “It’s a bit messy ah, hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

Zhong Weishi had lived here for many years, but this was the first time he had been properly invited into someone’s apartment. He glanced around and thought to himself that an artist’s world… really was messier than usual.

Cao Zhiheng had a kind face and was quick to strike up a conversation, which made him seem much more approachable than Zhong Weishi had imagined.

“Are you making props for a film crew ah?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“Yo, sharp eye, you can tell at a glance ah.” Cao Zhiheng laughed. “Most people assume I’m a carpenter at first glance.”

Zhong Weishi chuckled, picking up a small wooden jewelry box with a label from the film crew stuck underneath: “The Best Inn in the Capital.”

He had some impression of this TV show; the director He Gu was quite famous in the circle. Someone in the group chat had mentioned that filming would start soon, but then there had been no updates. What a coincidence—this artist was actually making props for that production?

“The stuff is quite exquisite. This must have taken quite a bit of time to make?”

“Not too bad. The one you’re holding took about two weeks to finish. The intricate carving work on the hollow parts was the most time-consuming,” Cao Zhiheng said.

“Is the drama already being filmed now?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“Uh, yeah, just started last week.” Cao Zhiheng poured him a cup of warm water.

“Thanks.”

Previously, Zhong Weishi had only ever exchanged nods with him, but after a bit of conversation, he found that this person’s personality was quite good. He asked, “Then, are you familiar with the crew’s coordinator? The one in charge of casting actors.”

“Quite familiar ah, why? Do you want to audition ah? The lead roles have already been cast, and they usually recruit those well in advance,” Cao Zhiheng said.

“No, no, no,” Zhong Weishi waved his hand, “I was just asking casually. If they happen to be short on extras or small supporting roles, do you think you could maybe help introduce me? I can do wire stunts, flips, play a corpse—anything!”

Ancient martial arts dramas often required a lot of wirework. It wasn’t that the new generation of actors weren’t willing to put in the effort; they just hadn’t mastered the skills yet. As soon as they were hoisted up, they’d start flailing and screaming, making some scenes better suited for professional stunt doubles to save time and effort.

Cao Zhiheng nodded, “Sure ah, I’ll ask around for you later.”

Zhong Weishi was so excited that his face lit up with joy. “Then, thank you so much! Let’s add each other as friends!”

“Okay.” Cao Zhiheng took out his phone.

Zhong Weishi quickly asked, “What’s your Wi-Fi password, by the way?”

The two were engrossed in conversation when the sound of running water in the bathroom suddenly stopped.

Zhong Weishi paused for a moment, reminded of his main reason for coming over tonight. He turned his head to look.

A man’s bare upper body unexpectedly came into his view.

Gu Lizhou, who usually lived alone, didn’t have the habit of bringing a pile of clothes into the bathroom with him. So when he came to Cao Zhiheng’s place, it was no different for him—it felt as casual as being at home, free of restraints.

After showering, he didn’t bother drying his hair, so it hung wet and dripping. A light gray striped towel was slung loosely around his neck. He was wrapped in a white bath towel around his waist, but it was so loose that it looked like it might fall off after just a few steps.

Zhong Weishi’s first reaction was that this guy actually had a pretty good physique.

The muscles on his arms weren’t particularly bulky, but the lines were well-defined. His chest was slightly flushed from the hot water, and droplets of water from his hair trickled down his chest and abs. His whole body seemed to still be surrounded by the warmth of the steam, and the faint outline of his V-lines disappeared beneath the bath towel.

“Give me a minute, I’ll put on some clothes,” Gu Lizhou said, wiping his hair.

“Oh.” Zhong Weishi hurriedly looked away.

Gu Lizhou walked over to them, took a sip of water, and then turned to head toward the bedroom. Zhong Weishi’s eyes uncontrollably followed him again.

Was he not wearing underwear?

Above that was a sharply defined waistline…

There was a large black tattoo on his slightly protruding shoulder blade. Before Zhong Weishi could make out the design, Gu Lizhou had already shut the door behind him.

Seeing how wide-eyed Zhong Weishi was, Cao Zhiheng couldn’t help but wave his hand and tease him, “What are you staring at? Into guys, are you?”

Zhong Weishi immediately retorted, “No, I just thought I saw a tattoo on him.”

“So what if he has a tattoo?” Cao Zhiheng chuckled. “Haven’t you seen him? He smokes, gets perms, and has tattoos, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Zhong Weishi lowered his head and muttered softly like a mosquito, “I do think that he’s a nice person.”

Only when he reached for the mug next to him to take a sip, did he realized… it was empty.

Cao Zhiheng laughed apologetically, “Sorry, all the cups here look the same. Let me wash it and pour you another one.”

Zhong Weishi put the cup back down as if he’d pinched a hot potato. “No, no, it’s fine. I won’t drink…”

Then he suddenly realized something. “I mean, I’m not bothered by it… I’m just not thirsty.”

God ah! What the hell was he talking about!

Zhong Weishi felt like a white soul was floating out of the back of his head and hovering above him.

Cao Zhiheng let out a laugh and didn’t say anything.

“What’s up?” Gu Lizhou emerged from the bedroom, still fastening the waistband of his pants. Dressed in a simple sports outfit with his bangs hanging down, he looked like he was only in his 20s.

“Oh, about that,” The moment Zhong Weishi met Gu Lizhou’s gaze, all the lines he’d been rehearsing along the way got stuck in his throat. “These clothes, I feel like I don’t really need to dress up this much…”

“Want to return it?” Gu Lizhou saw through him instantly.

“Ah…” Zhong Weishi nodded in relief. “Did you keep the receipt? I’ll take it to the mall tomorrow and check.”

“Nope.” Gu Lizhou answered quickly.

Cao Zhiheng figured it out, his eyes suspicious: “Wait, you bought him those clothes ah? You ripped his clothes? How’d you break it ah?”

Gu Lizhou didn’t deny it, pouring some water into his cup. “If you don’t want to wear it, just give it away.”

Cao Zhiheng glanced at Zhong Weishi, then at his brother, sensing something unusual.

Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened.

Like he’d give it away!

Never mind how expensive this shirt was, even if it was worth just 20 yuan, he wouldn’t give it away…

In this world, aside from Grandma Zhao, no one else had ever bought him clothes.

Naturally, he couldn’t just accept the gift without reciprocating. Zhong Weishi had just searched for the brand on Taobao and saw the retail price.

A 9% discount still made it over 800 yuan.

He looked up, determined: “Give me some paper and a pen.”

Cao Zhiheng, realizing he was going to write an IOU, quickly said, “Xiao Didi, it’s just a piece of clothing, no need for that.”

Gu Lizhou immediately put on a ‘Does laozi looks like a person who lacks that little money?’ expression, waving it off. “En, there’s really no need.”

Zhong Weishi looked at him, “Don’t be stubborn with me! I’m someone who’s always had my own principles. I don’t like casually owing people favors.”

Cao Zhiheng, the fence-sitter, immediately switched sides: “Yes, yes, yes, owing someone a favor is the hardest to repay. Old Gu! If he wants to repay you, just let him.”

Gu Lizhou thought this stupid kid must have drunk too much of the fake alcohol. Wasn’t he usually pretty happy when taking advantage of him?

It wasn’t like he bought the clothes today for the purpose of giving away favors.

But while he hesitated, Cao Zhiheng had already handed over paper and pen, buzzing in Zhong Weishi’s ear like a bee: “Just a little gesture will do ah, don’t take it too seriously. When dealing with a stupid rich bastard like him, we’d be fools if we don’t pit him.”

The stupid rich bastard kicked him.

Gu Lizhou didn’t even care about what Zhong Weishi was writing, until he put the pen down and dashed out the door, then he squinted to make out the barely-legible scribbles that generously called themselves words.

“Happiness Annual Card

With this card, you can watch my talent show 100 times for free.”

It was signed with a ridiculously cheeky smiley face, with an additional note drawn beside it: “Heihei, I have no money!”

Gu Lizhou held his forehead, laughing so hard his shoulders shook.

 

Zhong Weishi looked at the new T-shirt in his hand, somewhat in disbelief. Turning his head in astonishment, he asked, “This, this, you bought this for me ah?”

Gu Lizhou still had a cigarette hanging from his lips, his expression looking relaxed. “Otherwise?”

Zhong Weishi stared at the small flicker of the cigarette tip, still in a daze, and then heard him say, “Hurry up and change. That shirt you’re wearing is an eyesore.”

Zhong Weishi glanced back and tugged at his shirt. If Gu Lizhou hadn’t reminded him, he would’ve forgotten that it was torn.

A’Wei had just noticed the two slits in Zhong Weishi’s shirt. “Did it get ripped when you got caught on the fence ah?”

“En.” Zhong Weishi subconsciously glanced at the price tag and shuddered in shock.

What the heck ah! A dragon robe!

“It’s too expensive,” Zhong Weishi felt certain he couldn’t afford it, looking up and asking, “Can I still get a refund for this?”

Qiangzi and his gang also swarmed over to check the price tag, shouting a string of expletives: “898!”

“What?” Da Fei leaned over in shock.

Gu Lizhou lowered one arm, flicking the ash off his cigarette, and casually said, “It was bought on sale. Consider it a gift, a welcome present from your new neighbor.”

Qiangzi, grinning cheekily, sidled up. “Ge, look, my shirt’s torn too!”

A bunch of people yelled as they pulled on their clothes, “Ours is torn too!”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

Zhong Weishi elbowed Qiangzi and the others back, “Have some face?”

“Beep beep—” A car horn honked twice from across the street, and someone stuck their head out.

“Old Gu.”

It was Cao Zhiheng.

Gu Lizhou stubbed out the half-burnt cigarette, tilting his head slightly. “I’m heading out.”

Zhong Weishi, still in a daze, muttered an “oh,” but by the time he remembered to say thank you, the other had already gotten into his car and disappeared from sight.

The T-shirt was immediately snatched by A’Wei, passed around like a game of hot potato among the group.

It had a simple design: pure white, with a pair of ash-gray wings extending from the collar to both shoulders.

It was bold and had a lot of personality.

It was completely different from the style of clothes Gu Lizhou usually wore, and it seemed like he had picked this one especially for Zhong Weishi.

“Not gonna lie ah, expensive clothes really do have different materials ah. Feels super nice to the touch.”

“That’s just how it felt ah…”

“Didn’t he say he bought it on sale? It shouldn’t be that expensive.”

Zhong Weishi calculated. Even if the fvcking boss ran away and slashed the prices to rock-bottom, a discount would still mean 90 yuan for one shirt.

90 yuan. That was enough for him to buy a dozen shirts at the small goods market!

And this clearly wasn’t some street stall item. No way this came from a place where the boss bailed and sold stuff with a very large discounted price.

“Hey! Stop touching it with those greasy hands, you’re getting it all over the shirt.” Zhong Weishi snatched the T-shirt back from Qiangzi.

“I wiped my hands before touching it.” Qiangzi clicked his tongue repeatedly. “Look at how precious you love it so dearly. It’s just a piece of rag! Brothers, when I get rich, the first thing I’ll do is buy you two of these 898 ones—one to wear, the other to use as a rag!”

Zhong Weishi laughed. “Retard.”

The car sped along the bustling streets, the window on the passenger side rolled down. Gu Lizhou’s hair was blowing wildly in the wind. Though the sky had darkened, the cityscape outside was still bright and lively.

The words from Old Li at the police station had unintentionally hit a sore spot for him.

Before he knew it, he was already 32 ah.

How many 32 years could one have in life?

It was now June, exactly five years since he had announced his retirement from writing.

Gu Lizhou had loved reading since he was a child, and during his first year of university, he became obsessed with writing.

His highest record was writing non-stop for an entire week without sleep. He could enter the fantasy world he had built at anytime and anywhere, controlling the fates and emotions of his characters.

He was hot-blooded, exhilarated, and sleepless.

At 20, an age where one didn’t know heat from cold, full of youthful vigor, he was like a cactus growing in the desert—thriving wildly even without the nourishment of rain.

He was obsessed with creating, to the point where even his dreams were immersed in his fiction world.

While most students were still daydreaming about when they’d have their first sweet sweet romance, he had already signed with Xinghe Century and become an online writer.

He poured all his energy into his work, constantly acquiring new knowledge in the library, seeking thrills in distant travels, and amassing wave after wave of readers.

He felt like there was never enough time. Even sleeping four or five hours a day gave him a guilty feeling, as if he were wasting time.

He was in a rush to grow, to graduate, to gain more free time.

At 26, he reached his peak.

His fifth full-length novel achieved over a hundred million clicks and more than a million favorites on the site, making him the top writing god at Xinghe Century.

What did these figures mean?

It meant that the combined numbers of those ranked second through tenth didn’t even come close to matching his.

But human energy is ultimately limited, like a burning candle—the brighter the flame, the faster it burns. By the time he realized his body had some problems, it was already too late.

It started with minor ailments such as gastritis, enteritis, cervical spondylitis, mouth sores, eye pain. His weight plummeted.

“You can’t sit for long periods.”

“You can’t be on the computer all the time.”

“Your eyes need rest.”

He knew all of the doctor’s advice, but he couldn’t stop.

Countless people were watching him, waiting for him, and behind him, countless authors were chasing after him.

Who wouldn’t want to stay at the top for just a little longer?

It was like those people constantly challenging and setting the Guinness World Records.

Top-tier creative talents are often madmen.

He continued to relentlessly pour his time and energy into the world of his novels.

If there wasn’t enough time, he cut off his social life. If he didn’t have the energy, he made up for it with more sleep.

But the continuous onset of symptoms began to torment his will.

Herniated discs, shoulder and neck pain, migraines, vitreous floaters—each new condition felt like a warning from above.

One day, he woke up to a persistent buzzing sound in his ears.

The doctor said, “This is noise-induced tinnitus. Have you been suffering from insomnia? Staying up late? Young people shouldn’t always stay up late.”

“You’re too thin. Eat more, exercise more, building up your body is key.”

“If you continue like this, your body will collapse.”

How painful is noise-induced tinnitus?

It feels like cicadas perched by your ear, buzzing incessantly for 24 hours without a break, driving a person to irritability and making it impossible to focus.

And focus is exactly what creativity demands.

It’s not like working on an assembly line, where you can just clock in and out.

It requires constant accumulation, new experiences for stimulation, and bursts of inspiration.

The sudden onset of tinnitus was like a final warning from above—you must rest.

His worsening condition forced him to slow down.

“It’s been almost a month since the break ah. This isn’t fun to follow anymore.”

“Can you at least respect the readers waiting for updates ah? How many times has he taken breaks in these three months?”

“Fame really changes people ah.”

“I think that’s all there is to the writing. Seems like he’s out of ideas.”

People fear fame, just as pigs fear getting fat;¹Pigs fear getting fat for slaughter. The meaning for the two phrases is that fame has its price. and it’s the same in every industry.

At that time, Gu Lizhou adjusted his mindset quickly, accepted the criticisms with a smile, and apologized to his readers. Once his tinnitus was treated, he didn’t go on hiatus again.

Until the emergence of that sensational incident that shocked the whole internet happened.

#Famous Author Wanlizhou Molested Female Fans#

#Wanlizhou Hotel Photos#

#Wanlizhou’s Real Name#

#Wanlizhou’s Horrible Character#

#Wanlizhou Plagiarized Enneagram#

#Wanlizhou and Nine-Star Were Schoolmates#

…

This was a premeditated power struggle.

The “evidence” from the other party was solid, catching him completely off guard.

It was at that moment that Gu Lizhou truly experienced the cruelty of human heart and the coldness of human nature—far more terrifying than anything in the world of his novels.

Fame is like water in the ocean.

Water can carry a boat, but it can also capsize one.

Overnight, he became notorious.

Though his team swiftly responded with public relations, refuting all plagiarism claims, hiring the most renowned legal team to defend him in court, and even getting the female fan to release a video clarifying the situation, they couldn’t stop the spread of rumors.

“After molesting a female fan, Wanlizhou threatened her to delete her post.” “Female fan develops severe depression from harassment.” “Wanlizhou only became famous through hype.” Eye-catching headlines like these appeared one after another.

Just like how people immediately think of Sun Wukong when hearing the name Liuxiaolingtong, many online users now associate the name “Wanlizhou” with the molestation of female fans and plagiarism of works.

Through the screen, it was impossible to distinguish between truth and lies, but curiosity is an innate human trait.

The fans on both sides tore each other apart.

Nine-Star’s work shot up from seventh to second place in terms of clicks.

A person who is obsessed with creating can endure the loneliness of long nights, withstand physical problems, and tolerate harsh reader critiques.

But there would still come a moment when it all became overwhelmingly crushing.

It felt like he had just gone through a sudden tsunami, draining all his passion and energy. As he quietly gazed at the devastated world around him, he suddenly felt… tired, and weary, like he didn’t want to continue anymore.

On June 10th, a 4.8 million-word fantasy novel titled “Wraiths” was marked complete, and the author posted a handwritten long-term leave notice on Weibo.

Eight years of time summarized in 800 words, laid down on a single sheet of paper.

The last sentence read: “Thank you for your trust, thank you for your companionship. Until we meet again, if fate allows.”

The handwriting was bold, graceful, and forceful.

What seemed like a few light words were like an invisible gate that completely severed the past from the present.

A large group of fans cried out.

The story of Wanlizhou was thus sealed away in the memory chest of a generation.

That once proud peak of his career had become the most unspeakable chapter of his past in the end.

If someone were to ask him, after his health improved, would he ever write again?

His answer would be no.

A legend is still a legend; better to leave it unbroken.

But no matter how many years pass, he will always miss the things he once loved and was so passionate about.

If asked, does he have any regrets?

The answer would differ at different stages.

His eyes warmed as the craving for a cigarette crept up again.

Gu Lizhou reached into his pants pocket for his cigarettes.

Cao Zhiheng glanced at him. “Don’t smoke in my car ah. My girlfriend will smell it and accuse me again.”

Gu Lizhou sighed and reluctantly put it back in his pocket.

“Got something on your mind?” Cao Zhiheng easily saw through him.

Gu Lizhou leaned his elbow on the edge of the window, resting his chin on his hand, muttering to himself, “Nothing much, just feels like something’s missing in life.”

“Missing a partner!” Cao Zhiheng blurted out.

Gu Lizhou acted as if he hadn’t heard.

Cao Zhiheng continued, “I’m serious, don’t doubt me. Girlfriends are such wonderful creatures. If not that, maybe get a proper job—it’s really easy to get depressed when you overthink too much…”

Once Cao Zhiheng started talking, there was no stopping him, but Gu Lizhou’s thoughts drifted far away, carried by the wind.

“My main job is acting. On the side… I’m a model, a waiter, a campus errand runner, a food critic, and an ambassador for promoting agricultural products…”

“Qiangzi said we should celebrate…”

“After a trip to the police station, we came out safe and sound ah! Isn’t that something worth celebrating?”

He looks so happy and fulfilled.

He and the people around him all seemed so happy.

Gu Lizhou was a little envious.

After the late-night gathering ended, Qiangzi drove Zhong Weishi back to the neighbourhood.

Qiangzi had drunk quite a bit, and Zhong Weishi felt concerned, “Drive carefully on the road ah. Send me a message when you get home.”

“What’s the point of sending a message if you haven’t topped up your phone?” Huangfu Qiang laughed.

Zhong Weishi chuckled, “I’ll top it up as soon as I get back.”

Now that the lights in the hallway were fixed, Zhong Weishi was still quite unaccustomed to it. At night, he could clearly see the rows of small ads… and Er’Gou’s picture.

He walked over, tore down the missing person flyer, and crumpled it into a ball. When he was about to toss it away, he remembered the bundle of sticks, so he stuffed the paper ball into his pocket instead.

People are really different from each other.

Even though he occasionally saw big stars on set, there was rarely an opportunity to exchange even a greeting, so he didn’t feel much impact from it.

But after Gu Lizhou appeared in this place, Zhong Weishi truly felt the gap between the rich and the poor; not just in money.

Cultural standards, moral character, family upbringing… these things, ingrained deep into one’s bones, shape a complete soul and at the same time form a person’s unique temperament.

If he had a family, would he be a different Zhong Weishi?

Would it be better than now?

“Knock knock knock—”

Cao Zhiheng opened the door and was immediately hit by the smell of alcohol. The boy’s cheeks were flushed, so he should have drunk a lot.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Zhong Weishi licked his lips and glanced inside, “Uh, is Gu Lizhou here?”

Cao Zhiheng: “He’s taking a bath.”

Zhong Wei Shi let out an “Oh”. He was just about to say he’d come back later, but Cao Zhiheng had already turned and yelled towards the bathroom, “Old Gu, the kid from 301 is looking for you.”

“Looking for me for what?”

The soundproofing of the bathroom wasn’t good, and Gu Lizhou’s voice was mixed with the sound of a stream of water: “Tell him to wait, I’m in the middle of a shower.”

“He asked you to wait,” Cao Zhiheng said.

Zhong Weishi grinned, showing his teeth, “I heard him.”

 

“Yes, he scammed over 300,000 yuan, and we were there to get the money back!” Qiangzi said.

Zhong Weishi nudged his arm, and Qiangzi, looking confused, whispered, “What is it?”

“We were there to persuade him to pay back the money as soon as possible,” Zhong Weishi said.

“Persuading someone to repay a debt involves scaling a wall in the dead of night?” The young officer, though still relatively new on the job, didn’t need much imagination to figure out what this group was really up to. “Who’s your leader? Which loan shark company do you work for? Ever heard the saying, ‘Confession leads to leniency, resistance leads to severity?’”

When Zhong Weishi heard the mention of a loan shark, he got nervous and quickly pointed to Gu Lizhou: “We really haven’t done anything illegal. The one who got scammed is his mom.”

A female officer approached quietly and said, “Old Li, I’ve checked all of them. None of them have criminal records. And back at the end of March, someone did file a report saying they were scammed out of over 300,000 yuan. The scammer’s name is Zhang Gou, but the case is being handled by the Zhongshan Police Station. I’m not sure about the current status.”

“It still hasn’t been resolved after all this time?” The officer called Old Li was surprised.

Though the situation had been clarified, a large group of demons and ghosts climbing over the gate of a residential complex late at night still seemed suspicious.

Old Li earnestly gave them all a lengthy legal lesson: “There’s a provision in the <Criminal Law> called the crime of ‘picking quarrels and provoking trouble.’ What does that mean? It refers to acts like assaulting others randomly, chasing, blocking, insulting, or threatening others, and causing serious disorder in public places through disturbances. This can result in a sentence of five to ten years in prison, along with a fine.”

A bunch of people were so scared that they shook their heads repeatedly, promising that they would never commit such offenses.

Since the police uncles remembered that everyone was a first-time offender and hadn’t caused any serious consequences, they gave them a warning and allowed them to go back to their own homes.

Regarding Zhang Gou’s case, the police said they would continue to investigate and follow up, thanking them for providing relevant information.

Zhong Weishi, feeling as if he had been granted a reprieve, was in high spirits. He went with Da Fei and the others to retrieve their electric scooters. After a brief chat, he felt like something was missing around him, so he turned back and saw Gu Lizhou squatting by the flowerbed, engrossed in his phone.

The sky was dark, and the glow from the phone illuminated his face in a faint outline.

Gu Lizhou’s hair was a bit messy from the wind, and his clothes were smudged with some dust, making him look a little disheveled against the night’s backdrop.

“Are you coming with us?” Zhong Weishi looked down and asked.

Gu Lizhou opened his mouth, about to say, ‘No, I’ve called a friend to pick me up,’ when Zhong Weishi grabbed his sleeve and said, “Go, go, go, let’s go grab a late-night snack. Qiangzi said we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate?!” Gu Lizhou was quite surprised, “Celebrate what?”

“We just made it out of the police station in one piece ah! Isn’t that something worth celebrating!” Zhong Weishi said, twirling his keychain and bouncing as he walked, relieved that they didn’t end up with criminal records.

Gu Lizhou couldn’t quite understand why they would want to celebrate after nearly landing themselves in trouble and being questioned at the police station until late at night. But still, there was a spot for him at the snack stand.

Although this late-night snack stand was quite small, it was bustling with business at this hour. The tables were almost spilling onto the sidewalk.

“Come, come, come,” Huangfu Qiang bit off the cap of a beer bottle with his teeth and placed it in the middle of the table. “Tonight we’re going AA! Eat and drink as much as you want!”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

Zhong Weishi stood by the fridge and handed Gu Lizhou a tray. “Don’t listen to Qiangzi’s nonsense. Order whatever you like, however much you want. That guy once ate half a tub of instant noodles with his bare hands. None of us here can match his appetite, going AA would be a blood loss.”

Gu Lizhou thought to himself that this wasn’t really about the money. There was a fly buzzing around in the fridge—could this food really be eaten?

He picked up a skewer of chicken wings and gave it a sniff, realizing that the ingredients had probably been sitting in the freezer for too long. They reeked of ice.

Or the frozen fishy smell!

Though he didn’t usually care much about fancy meals at home, at least he knew where his food came from and how clean it was. Out here, who could say what these things had been through…

While he was still hesitating, Zhong Weishi had already gone off to pay, carrying a tray full of food. He glanced back and saw Gu Lizhou holding just a single skewer of broccoli, picking at it with his fingernail. He immediately understood.

“Don’t like barbecue ah? Then why don’t I send you back first?”

“No, no, no need to trouble yourself,” Gu Lizhou didn’t want to inconvenience anyone because of him.

There were quite a few people joining the celebration. A’Wei brought over a large old-fashioned square table, pushing it together with the others.

“You guys squeeze in a bit, don’t take all my benches ah” The boss was fanning himself with one hand while flipping the skewers with the other.

The air was filled with the smell of grilled meat and cumin, which sparked everyone’s appetite.

Gu Lizhou felt a bit thirsty, so he went next door to buy a bottle of mineral water. By the time he returned, everyone had pretty much finished ordering.

His eyes circled around the empty seats at the table.

In the end, he chose to sit next to Zhong Weishi.

Huangfu Qiang and the others were still enthusiastically discussing their unusual experience that night, “Ai, honestly, the air conditioning at the police station was a bit too cold. While squatting there, I could feel an evil gust of wind blowing at the back of my head.”

Xiao Tian: We can now say we’ve been through the ropes. A day tour of the police station, can you believe it ah!

A’Wei: “The funniest part was Da Fei, when the police so gently asked him, ‘Little girl, are you okay?’ Hahahaha…”

Zhong Weishi had been laughing along for half day. Then he noticed that Gu Lizhou still hadn’t touched his food, so he picked up the best-looking roasted eggplant and handed it to him. “Try this roasted eggplant. It’s pretty good, trust me.”

Believe what ghost ah. We all just did a tour of the police station.

The eggplant was topped with minced meat and garlic paste in the middle, and it smelled really good.

Gu Lizhou didn’t usually like garlic paste, so he used his chopsticks to push the toppings aside and picked a small piece.

“How is it?” Zhong Weishi asked with anticipation in his eyes. “Isn’t it good?”

A layer of hot oil doused the minced meat sizzle, mixing with the eggplant’s natural flavor and the sweetness of the sauce. It was one of those dishes that was addictive after just one bite.

Gu Lizhou nodded, taking several more bites. Only after a while did he realize that his tongue had been slightly burned from the heat.

He didn’t have a big appetite, and he wasn’t used to eating late-night snacks. After eating a few bites, he rested his chin on his hand, watching Qiangzi and the others talk with pride, as if they were boasting about some great achievements.

In his eyes, they were just a bunch of idiots.

The cool night breeze lifted the torn fabric behind Zhong Weishi.

It was quite large with two slits.

The clothes looked like they had been rolled in mud, filthy and grimy.

He also didn’t wash his hands either.

It was unlucky that he had just taken the chicken wings from Zhong Weishi’s hand and ate them.

Gu Li Zhou mentally disliked it.

From his vantage point, he could clearly see Zhong Weishi’s slightly protruding shoulder blades.

Wrapped in a fairly pale skin, shifting as his arms moved, alternately rising and sinking…

Suddenly, an image of Zhong Weishi doing a flip on the balcony flashed through Gu Lizhou’s mind.

An orphan abandoned by his parents, who knows what kind of environment he grew up in.

Judging from the way he spoke before, it didn’t seem like he was ever adopted by a kind family.

When he first met him, his eyes were full of hostility, arrogant and wild, yet time and again he lowered his head for a small amount of money.

How in the world did he manage to take root and survive in this city’s corners?

“Cheers, cheers.” Zhong Weishi raised his glass to toast with everyone, but his elbow accidentally knocked a pile of skewers onto the floor.

He didn’t bother to bend down to pick them up and continued to drink.

The next second, the person beside him picked them up, one by one, and placed them back on the table.

Zhong Weishi froze.

“I’m full, I’m heading out first ah,” Gu Lizhou said as he stood up.

“Huh, you’re already full ah?” Qiangzi looked at him. “Why not stick around a bit? We’ll give you a ride back when we’re done.”

“No, you guys eat.” Gu Lizhou said.

Zhong Weishi bit into a chicken wing, watching as the man’s figure slowly faded into the night.

As soon as he left, Qiangzi clicked his tongue twice. “He’s really out of place.”

Zhong Weishi spat out the chicken bone in his mouth. “People flock together with their kind. He’s just not the same as us.”

The atmosphere became a little subtle after the phrase “flock together with their kind.”

No one felt particularly happy or sad, but everyone understood in their hearts that people like them couldn’t compare with people like him.

That was, until Da Fei’s wig got blown off the table by a gust of wind, and the group burst into laughter, unable to hold themselves up from laughing so hard.

So what if they couldn’t compare?

Poor people also have the happiness of poor people.

Zhong Weishi, borrowing Wi-Fi from A’Wei and the others’ phones, was trying to look for any new rental listings. Suddenly, something was thrown over his head, plunging his vision into darkness.

“fvck, which idiot ah.” Zhong Weishi yanked the object off his head, only to find that it was a brand-new piece of clothing—a men’s T-shirt, still with the tag attached.

He looked up to see Qiangzi and the others all staring wide-eyed at something behind him.

Zhong Weishi, holding the shirt, turned around. Under the dim streetlights, his eyes met Gu Lizhou’s deep, dark gaze.

In order not to disturb the surrounding residents, the police immediately stuffed the group of people into the car.

One of the officers, before getting into the car, kindly walked up to Da Fei and gently asked, “Little girl, did they bully you just now? If they did, you can tell us.”

The group of people, who had just been put into the police car, were dumbfounded.

Da Fei had already prepared himself to be questioned in the car, but this sudden gentleness left his brain dizzy. The words “Thank you, uncle police officer” were about to burst out of his throat, but he swallowed them back down.

Only to see him shyly waved his arm and shook his head to indicate that everything was fine.

“As long as you’re okay,” The policeman nodded. “It’s late at night, girls shouldn’t stay out; it’s not safe.”

Da Fei was truly touched, and with tears in his eyes, he looked over at Zhong Weishi and the others, showing a helpless expression as if to say, “Don’t blame this brother for not going through water and treading on fire.”

Helplessness is helplessness, but being treated as a girl sure had its perks!

Qiangzi was the last to be caught. As he was being taken away, he still had the look of “I’m the boss around here” on his face, showing no fear of authority, “I was just taking my girlfriend for a walk, what’s wrong with that? Which law says I can’t take a walk here?”

“Stop talking nonsense! Which girlfriend?!” the police asked.

“Her!” Qiangzi pointed at Da Fei.

The kind police just a moment ago, turned his head.

Da Fei: “…”

In the end, the Xicheng District’s Express Debt Collection Team was completely rounded up, not a single one left behind.

Ten minutes later.

Inside the brightly lit Nanxia City substation of Yucheng’s police department, shadows moved about in the distance.

A dozen members of the so-called “organized crime group” were squatting against the wall, waiting to be questioned by the authorities.

Zhong Weishi looked utterly dejected, praying that this incident wouldn’t end up being a major colorful mark on his record.

Gu Lizhou still hadn’t fully grasped what had just happened.

Whether it was that the bed wasn’t comfortable enough or the TV shows weren’t entertaining enough, they had to carry out some sort of plan to arrest Er’Gou and end up in the police station themselves.

He rubbed his tired cheeks and looked around.

On the white walls hung bright red banners: “Eradicate organized crime, benefit the nation and the people, everyone has a responsibility to report criminal activities” and “Fight organized crime to ensure peace, build a better home for the people”…

Then he turned to look at the group of slackers around him—unkempt youths, who looked like they’d drill holes in their noses if they could. He suddenly felt the police might have had a point in bringing them all in together…

What the fvck is this if not extorting protection money!

“Do I look like a gangster?” Zhong Weishi was genuinely puzzled. In his whole life, he’d done all sorts of things, but never anything truly immoral.

Gu Lizhou thought to himself, you don’t look like a gangster, you look like a lunatic.

A slightly older policeman holding a teacup walked over, “What do you all do ah?”

The group instantly began squawking like parrots—shopping, taking a walk, going to the internet cafe, buying late-night snacks, there was a bit of everything…

Gu Lizhou was squatting next to Zhong Weishi when he suddenly heard him say, “Just passing by.”

“…” Did your IQ drop on the floor and you forgot to pick it up!

“One by one,” The one holding the teacup seemed ready for an all-night interrogation. He sat down slowly in a chair, smiling in an almost fatherly way.

A young officer at the side began taking notes.

“Let’s start with you.” The older officer pointed at Gu Lizhou. “What’s your name ah?”

“Gu Lizhou.”

“Where are you from ah?”

“Local.”

“And you?” The older officer gestured toward Zhong Weishi, firing off a string of questions.

Everyone except Zhong Weishi was local, all around 20 years old, the oldest being 26. Some were even students from nearby vocational schools who had skipped class.

By now, all the arrogance and hostility from earlier had vanished. Some of them were on the verge of kneeling down and kowtowing: “Please, please don’t tell my parents ah, uncle officer…”

“What about you? How old are you?” The police officer glanced at Gu Lizhou.

“32,” Gu Lizhou lowered his head, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” The older officer sighed. “At your age, you could technically be their guardian. So why are you causing trouble like this? Not sleeping in the middle of the night, running around someone else’s neighborhood—what were you planning to do? Were you the ringleader?”

“… Really wasn’t,” Gu Lizhou felt wronged but had no way to explain.

“Political affiliation?” The younger officer asked.

Gu Lizhou: “Party member.”

The older officer clicked his tongue several times in disappointment. “How dare you even say that.”

“Next, political affiliation,” The younger officer pointed at Zhong Weishi.

Zhong Weishi was still quietly conspiring with Qiangzi and the others when he caught the word “affiliation” and made brief eye contact with the officer. Brimming with confidence: “Extremely handsome.”

“Pffft—” The older police spit out a mouthful of liang cha.¹Chinese herbal tea

All the people in the room laughed their heads off.

When it was Qiangzi’s turn: “I think I’m pretty handsome too, just slightly less than him.”

The younger officer laughed so hard his stomach hurt.

Zhong Weishi saw that Gu Lizhou had buried his face in his arms, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

“Laughing your ass off ah!”

“He was asking about your political affiliation. Are you a party member?” Gu Lizhou was struggling to catch his breath.

“I don’t know,” Zhong Weishi was a bit speechless. He figured Gu Lizhou would understand, so he turned to him and explained seriously, “I guess not? I really don’t know much about that.”

The group of people couldn’t stop laughing even more.

It was like the classroom scenario where you give a wrong answer and everyone takes turns mocking you. With his ears turning red, Zhong Weishi quickly corrected himself, “Fine, I’m a party member, okay?”

Gu Lizhou held his forehead, “Please stop.”

The officer, who had been laughing like a goose, finally caught his breath and started questioning again, “The one with the peony tattoo on his hand! What do you do for a living?”

“It’s a rose!” Huangfu Qiang retorted, straining his neck.

The officer corrected himself: “Okay, rose tattoo—what do you do for a living?!”

“…” Huangfu Qiang sighed, “Network Administrator.”

The police pointed to Zhong Weishi.

Zhong Weishi didn’t hesitate, “My main job is acting. On the side… I’m a model, a waiter, a campus errand runner, a food critic, and an ambassador for promoting agricultural products…”

“Agricultural products… how do you promote those?” Gu Lizhou was genuinely puzzled.

“They said I make food look really appetizing… so they have me shoot commercials ah, just eating, eating, eating. You know Wuniang Rice? My face is printed on the bag!” Zhong Weishi said excitedly.

The officer stared blankly. “So much? And you still have time to be on TV?”

Zhong Weishi replied, “Mr. Lu Xun²Lu Xun – He was a leading figure of modern Chinese literature. Writing in vernacular and Literary Chinese, he was a short story writer, editor, translator, literary critic, essayist, poet, and designer. once said, ‘Time is like water in a sponge; squeeze it, and you’ll have it.’”

“Next.” The police officer glanced at Gu Lizhou.

“Freelance.”

Zhong Weishi curiously perked up his ears.

The young officer was taken aback. “What kind of freelance work? There’s got to be some sort of range, right?”

“It’s undecided for now.” Gu Lizhou said.

Sure enough, he’s really some pretty boy being kept by someone?

Zhong Weishi sidled up to him with a grin, “So you’re unemployed ah? You should’ve told me earlier ah, I could have shared one of my jobs with you.”

Gu Lizhou felt it was laughable, “Thanks ah.”

“What are you laughing at! What’s so funny! You’re 32 years old, and still don’t even have a proper job. How dare you laugh?” The older officer, seeing how hopeless he seemed, couldn’t help but start lecturing him.

Everyone was snickering, even the female officer on duty pursed her lips and tried to hold back a smile.

Gu Lizhou really wanted to smugly fire back with, ‘One day of your salary doesn’t even match the interest I earn from my bank account, so what’s so NB about you’ But as the words reached the tip of his tongue, he swallowed them back down.

There is no need, really, no need to be angry.

Stay calm.

Keep your manners.

With so many people to question, and each person giving different stories, they weren’t making much progress after all this time.

Gu Lizhou’s legs were getting numb from squatting. He didn’t care whether the floor was clean or not and, like everyone else, sat down on the tile. Sneakily, he pulled out his phone and searched for that Wuniang Rice.

God knows why he was so curious.

When the images loaded, his shoulder shook as he laughed again, burying his head in the crook of his arm.

The boy squatting across from him inquired in a low voice, “What are you laughing at?”

Gu Lizhou put up his cell phone.

On the screen was a large yellow agricultural sack, with a poorly printed image in the center of a young boy with his mouth wide open, eating. Behind him, an old lady smiled contentedly as she looked at him.

Although Zhong Weishi had been quite young when he shot this ad, and the printing was fuzzy and difficult to recognize. Gu Lizhou recognized him right away by his eyes.

Several bowls of rice were P³Photoshopped in front of him.

The slogan was striking: “Kid won’t eat? Give them a beating? No! Get Wuniang!”

As he scrolled down, he discovered that the company had gone out of business two years ago.

Gu Lizhou took a screenshot of this photo and saved it.

Zhong Weishi’s ridiculous antics had become Gu Lizhou’s daily source of spiritual sustenance.

It was only after nine o’clock that the conversation finally turned to the climax.

“Scaling the wall and snuck into the neighborhood in the middle of the night just to find this Zhang Gou?”

Zhong Weishi was momentarily dazed by the words “be careful.”

He watched as the figure in front of him moved forward, bit by bit. In the darkness, Gu Lizhou looked around, his arm half-lowered, shielding Zhong Weishi in front of him.

It was as if he was… protecting him.

This feeling was something Zhong Weishi had never experienced growing up.

It was so strange, so strange that… for a moment, he forgot what they were even doing.

Until a low bark suddenly came from one of the walkways: “Woof!—”

Their first reaction was that Er’Gou had encountered a real dog.¹His name was ‘二狗’ which is Er’Gou and the ‘狗’ here meant dog.

The barking sounded a bit distant, and based on the direction, it seemed to come from one of the houses on the right.

Zhong Weishi quickened his pace, but at the same time, he was worried that Er’Gou might suddenly jump out from one of the dark alleys and ambush them unexpectedly. So, he turned around and moved backward, back-to-back with Gu Lizhou.

Gu Lizhou was inexplicably bumped into and his right hand trembled. He glanced back, shocked. “What are you doing ah?!”

“Don’t you watch TV dramas?” Zhong Weishi clasped his hands together, making a finger-gun gesture. “You can’t leave your back exposed to the enemy.”

Even in this tense and thrilling atmosphere, with them hidden in the shadows while the enemy could see in plain sight, Gu Lizhou couldn’t help but retort, “Are you retarded!”

Zhong Weishi couldn’t quite figure him out. Just a moment ago, he raised his hand to protect him like a mother hen shielding her chick, full of devotion, and now he was cursing at him again.

He was also protecting him ah!

The two men’s backs were pressed against each other without a gap, and through the thin fabric, they could even feel each other’s rising body heat.

Gu Lizhou frowned uncomfortably and muttered, “Are you a heater! It’s so damn hot. Can you move away from me a bit?”

The other party didn’t appreciate it. Zhong Weishi pouted and reluctantly turned back around. Just then, a dark figure suddenly shot out of the house at an incredible speed, accompanied by heavy panting and the faint sound of chains dragging on the ground.

Under the phone’s light, their pupils dilated instantly, and they sucked in a mouthful of cold air.

A massive black dog with a bulky body was charging at them.

Its messy and long fur almost covered half of its face. It looked so fierce that from a distance, it resembled a lion—a lion with an exaggerated, edgy hairstyle.

“fvck! What the hell is that…” Zhong Weishi saw its bared teeth, drool dripping from its mouth…

He had a bad feeling.

“Tibetan mastiff.” Gu Lizhou replied.

The killer Tibetan mastiff barked twice at them, its voice deep and heavy like a boulder, rooting Zhong Weishi’s feet to the ground.

When he was young, he wanted to have fun and teased a stray dog by the roadside. As he joyfully petted the stray dog’s head, it suddenly let out an ‘ao wu’ and bit down on his forearm.

The sharp teeth pierced his flesh, and blood flowed profusely. No matter how much he cried and screamed, the stray dog wouldn’t let go, even violently shaking its head.

Until now there was still a clear scar on his arm.

Once bitten by a snake, you’ll be afraid of a rope for ten years.

The imposing presence of the Tibetan mastiff made Zhong Weishi’s legs tremble, and in his mind, he could already picture the dog tearing him apart.

“Why are you stepping on a sewing machine now?! Run ah!” Gu Lizhou grabbed his wrist and took off.

Zhong Weishi’s legs were slow to react, and at first, he was practically being dragged by Gu Lizhou. However, he quickly broke into the fastest sprint of his life, shouting as he ran, “‘ll distract it! You run that way!”

Gu Lizhou really wanted to retort, ‘Distract, my ass ah! Have you watched too many fvcking anti-Japanese war dramas?’ But he didn’t have the energy for nonsense.

“Run back!” Gu Li Zhou’s legs moved while he felt the words bursting out of his throat.

His mind was a complete mess, like a tangled ball of mush—chaos, panic, fear, all sorts of emotions flooding over him.

Whose dog was that?

Why wasn’t it leashed?

Would it bite?

Would tomorrow’s headlines read: Tibetan Mastiff Mauls Resident in Neighborhood, Scene Too Horrific to Witness…

The clearest thought he had was: What kind of sin did I commit to promise Zhong Weishi to watch some square dance performance? Otherwise, I’d be lying in bed asleep right now!

The barking continued right behind them.

Zhong Weishi didn’t dare look back. What shocked him the most was that the same total noob who hesitated to climb the fence just a few minutes ago had already grabbed the bars and jumped over ahead of him.

His posture was wretched but his momentum was lightning fast!

Zhong Weishi followed quickly, grabbing the bars and flipping himself over with all his strength.

There was a light at the door, bright and glaring.

Stepping on the horizontal bar of the fence, Zhong Weishi panted heavily, his throat unbearably dry.

The huge Tibetan mastiff was staring up at them, growling defiantly, “Woof, woof!—”

The fence shook with its impact.

“fvck you!” Zhong Weishi steadied himself and pointed at the dog’s nose. “If you’ve got the guts, come up here and fight me one-on-one ah!”

The Tibetan mastiff raised its heavy front paws, pressing them against the fence.

Zhong Weishi let out an “Oh yo” and climbed a bit higher in fear, his toes desperately pressing against the fence to prevent himself from slipping.

“Idiot,” Gu Lizhou muttered. He picked up something from the ground and tossed it inside, making the Tibetan mastiff pounce towards it.

Hanging on the fence, Zhong Weishi watched the Tibetan mastiff sniffing around the ground. Zhong Weishi didn’t dare say anything.

The Tibetan mastiff didn’t find anything and circled back to pace around beneath them.

“Hurry down already,” Gu Lizhou said, frowning, holding back a laugh. “I’ve seen cowards before, but never one as cowardly as you.”

“And I wonder who it was earlier that climbed faster than me…” Before he could finish, he froze.

When he let go of the bars, he realized he couldn’t get down.

The top of the fence had anti-theft spikes, and his clothes had gotten caught on something. He was stuck, unable to move up or down.

He was left hanging to dry on the fence!

“fvck.” Zhong Weishi looked up at the top of the fence and cursed repeatedly. “What to do ah? What the fvck do I do? My clothes are caught.”

In his panic, he heard a certain someone burst into laughter.

Zhong Weishi had been feeling tense and embarrassed, but when Gu Lizhou laughed, he couldn’t help but laugh too. “Stop laughing already and help me down ah. My neck’s hurting.”

Gu Lizhou said, “Alright,” but he quickly pulled out his phone, afraid that this person might get down any second.

Zhong Weishi pointed at the camera with one hand, but before he could say anything, he heard a rapid “click, click, click, click, click, click—”

A passionate continuous photo taking.

The laughter was unbridled.

“…” Zhong Weishi expletives were stuck. This old man’s childishness was beyond anything he could have imagined.

Just as Gu Lizhou put his phone away, several beams of light shone from a distance. Qiangzi shouted at the top of his lungs, “Ge! What are you doing hanging up there?!”

At critical moments like this, you could only rely on your own brothers—this was what Zhong Weishi thought as he stepped down onto Qiangzi’s shoulders.

Once he landed, he didn’t forget to mock a certain someone. “All you know how to do is watch the spectacle.”

Unfortunately, Gu Lizhou was shameless. “And it was quite the spectacle.”

The fabric of Zhong Weishi’s clothes was of poor quality, so when he came down, there were already two large holes in the back, and his shoulder blades felt a chill.

15 yuan, and he had only worn it twice before it was ruined.

Zhong Weishi sighed.

What surprised Gu Lizhou was that Huangfu Qiang had brought along a bunch of monkeys.

Five or six electric scooters gradually pulled up to the entrance, and about a dozen men, all looking c0cky and sporting outrageous hairstyles, got off.

One of them, with yellow rooster-comb hair, asked, “Where’s the guy? Where is he?”

Zhong Weishi turned and pointed. “In there, but there’s a dog.”

“Dog?”

Since they had lost sight of their target, Gu Lizhou figured that tonight’s operation to catch Er’Gou was probably a bust. Just as he was thinking about heading home to shower and sleep, he saw the group of men, who just arrived, jump over the fence one by one.

The boy leading them fearlessly beckoned the Tibetan mastiff with a finger. “Here, here, here, sit down!”

The Tibetan mastiff stared at him, not moving.

“Then stay standing.” The man said.

“This Tibetan mastiff might’ve been set loose by him to scare people,” Zhong Weishi said. “Look at its chain—it’s unfastened, not broken.”

“Today, we’re gonna beat him so bad his head comes out of his ass,” Said a man wearing a big gold chain around his neck.

Gu Lizhou saw Zhong Weishi chatting with them cheerfully and hesitated about whether to go in again.

“I’m wearing a skirt…” Da Fei said, clutching his upper thigh, also hesitating. Unlike a girl, he didn’t have safety shorts underneath. Shi-ge had lent him an ultra-short skirt, and it was already a struggle considering his height.

“You stay outside and keep watch,” Zhong Weishi said, glancing at Gu Lizhou without saying anything further.

With their current numbers, they didn’t really need one more person, especially if he might just slow them down. The main thing was that he suspected Gu Lizhou might not want to climb the fence again.

However, Gu Lizhou’s thought was: Since I’m already here…

A cold breeze swept past his ears as Zhong Weishi watched the man once again climb over the fence.

Having learned from his earlier experience, Gu Lizhou’s movements this time were swift and smooth.

This time, he truly felt that the man’s legs were indeed long.

When Gu Lizhou landed in front of him, a few loose strands of hair fell, partially covering his eyes, which still showed a hint of weariness and impatience.

“Let’s go, together.”

Zhong Weishi felt a wave of emotion he couldn’t quite express.

Since he was young, he had always believed that there was strength in numbers, and with enough people, anything could be accomplished. Those commissions seemed almost within his grasp.

“Er’Gou is dead meat tonight. We’ll dig him out, even if we dig three feet into the ground!”

Gu Lizhou heard his impassioned words and added casually, “En, let’s hope so.”

But just as they finished planning their strategy and were about to move forward, the sound of blaring sirens roared from a distance, rapidly approaching.

Zhong Weishi felt a chill down his spine, and his eyelid twitched violently.

As they turned, a bright beam of light shone on all of them, casting red and blue hues that illuminated the entire night sky.

It was blinding.

Gu Lizhou raised his hand to cover the light.

Two police cars pulled up at the entrance, followed by several police motorcycles.

A man in uniform leaned out from the passenger seat, holding a megaphone. “What are you doing?! I’m talking to you guys! Get out here, now!”

Gu Lizhou didn’t understand what was going on. When he turned around, he realized that the once intimidating, swaggering group of men beside him had already taken off, sprinting away.

Zhong Weishi patted him on the arm. “Retreat!”

Retreat, what retreat? Where to retreat ah!

They hadn’t done anything illegal, so why retreat ah?!

Gu Lizhou froze, completely at a loss.

Just a few minutes earlier, a concerned resident had reported suspicious individuals climbing the fence into the neighborhood. Before the caller could hang up, they frantically shouted, “Ah, ya, ya, ya, another big group of thugs just arrived! It’s the mafia! The mafia! Ai ya, ya, ya, ya… This is terrifying la!!”

“Hello? Hello, which neighborhood is this?!” The operator kept asking.

“Ah, ya, ya, ya… they’ve climbed over ya! We’re doomed!”

Yucheng had recently launched a special crackdown on gang activity, with banners promoting anti-crime initiatives hanging everywhere. Hearing the terrified screams over the phone, the police sensed this could be the biggest bust of the year.

They immediately dispatched a large force, determined to capture the criminal group in one fell swoop.

Every officer’s heart surged with passion, as if they were back to that time when they just stepped into the police station.

“Stop! Don’t run!—” The loud warning tore through the hot, humid air.

As Gu Lizhou watched a large group of officers vault over the fence, he felt like he was dreaming and needed someone to slap him awake.

“Are you with them?” A police officer came over and snapped Gu Lizhou out of his daze.

“No.” Gu Lizhou shook his head firmly without hesitation. “I don’t know them.”

The officer looked him over—his refined appearance and tidy clothing didn’t fit the image of a gangster. The officer nodded, “If you have nothing to do, don’t wander around aimlessly. Go home and get some rest.”

“He’s lying!” A woman suddenly appeared.

She was the enthusiastic citizen who had called the police earlier. Now that the officers were there, she stood straighter with newfound confidence. “I saw him climb in, then climb out! And then he climbed back in again! He’s clearly with them!”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

The officer gave him a scrutinizing look, his expression shifting subtly. “You’ll have to come with me.”

No matter how many people there were, they couldn’t outnumber the police. No matter how fast a rabbit jumps, it can’t outrun well-trained cheetahs. Both the front and back exits were blocked, and the group was trapped like fish in a net—none of them managed to escape.

In less than ten minutes, the police arrested all of them.

What they couldn’t see clearly in the dark earlier was now visible: the group was full of people with tattoos, earrings, wild hairstyles, and flamboyant outfits—none of them gave the impression of being upstanding citizens.

The lead officer’s face lit up with satisfaction as if it was harvest time. “What are you all doing here so late at night ah?”

“We came to fix a water pipe la, really didn’t do anything wrong… Believe me ah, ah sir.” Zhong Weishi’s imitation of a Hong Kong accent was spot on.

Gu Lizhou’s mouth twitched.

This person is engaged in what?!

“If you didn’t do anything wrong, why did you run?” One officer asked, “Speak properly! We treat our compatriots from Hong Kong and Taiwan equally!”

“I, that…” Zhong Weishi stammered, “Well, everyone else was running, so I thought not running would make me stand out.”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

Policemen: “…”

Zhong Weishi thought that the feeling people described online as ‘a deer caught in headlights when running into the girl you like’ was just like that.

His heartbeat had never been so intense, almost pounding its way up his throat.

The Er’Gou they had been obsessively tracking for nearly a month, dreaming about catching, was now less than ten meters away from him.

Seeing Er’Gou was like seeing stacks of banknotes waving at him.

That was several thousand yuan.

It could top two months of rent.

As Zhong Weishi led Da Fei in a circle, getting closer, he mouthed to Gu Lizhou, “What should we do?”

It was his first time in such a situation; besides feeling nervous and excited, he was also afraid of alerting the target.

Gu Lizhou quickly switched to a spy-movie mode, giving Da Fei a look.

Da Fei immediately understood, stopped playing around with Zhong Weishi, and started glancing occasionally at Er’Gou’s position.

At that moment, Zhang Gou was focused on recording a young woman, completely oblivious to them.

“Notify Qiangzi and the others first,” Gu Lizhou said as he got closer.

Qiangzi’s group wasn’t responding for some reason, so Da Fei had to leave the stage.

As soon as Da Fei left, Zhong Weishi’s exaggerated Yangge dance moves came to a halt.

An auntie next to him asked with a smile, “Why aren’t you dancing ah? Young man, your moves are so graceful ah”

“Really?” Zhong Weishi was surprised, not expecting anyone to pay attention to him. “I was just messing around.”

Gu Lizhou went over to him, “Do you really think people are praising you?”

Zhong Weishi shot back, “If you think you can do better, go ahead. If not, shut up!”

As the dance music came to an end, the crowd scattered like birds and beasts, and Zhong Weishi felt his heart tighten as he watched Er’Gou put away his phone.

Not good!

Qiangzi and the others hadn’t arrived yet.

“Does it take a plane to get from the South Square to here?” Gu Lizhou said.

At this point, Zhong Weishi wanted to curse as well. “fvck, we’re not waiting! Let’s chase after him!”

Qiangzi and A’Wei both had electric scooters. One was parked on the south side and the other on the north side to avoid missing Er’Gou if he showed up unexpectedly.

Zhong Weishi had a key in his hand.

This was the first time Gu Lizhou had ever been up close with a small Aima¹Brand lady’s electric bike that he didn’t know where to put his legs—It was even an eye-catching hot pink.

Before he could make a snarky comment, Zhong Weishi dramatically waved a hand at him. “Get on!”

The way he said it, with such flair, made it seem like he wasn’t riding a scooter but rather soaring on a rainbow cloud.

As Gu Lizhou climbed on, he felt all the eyes in the square on him.

He desperately lowered his head, rubbing his forehead. “You bought this thing ah?”

“Ah? This isn’t mine. It belongs to A’Wei’s jie,” Zhong Weishi said.

“Oh…”

Just as Gu Lizhou was about to comment on the color, he heard a voice in front say, “If only it were mine.”

“…” Gu Lizhou fell silent.

“Your feet, don’t let your feet touch the ground ah!” Zhong Weishi shouted as he drove at about 12 mph, trying to keep pace with Er’Gou. The guy behind him was still stepping on the ground for some reason, making the scooter wobble unsteadily.

“Then where am I supposed to put my feet ah!” Gu Lizhou was simply speechless. Sitting on this scooter was even lower than if he were squatting, leaving his long legs with nowhere to rest.

“Footboard ah, on the sides of the wheels. Just look down,” Zhong Weishi said, too busy keeping an eye on Er’Gou to glance down.

Gu Lizhou supported his waist and took a quick look. He confirmed that there was no footboard on either side, just two rusty screws. However, there was a footboard at the front.

Zhong Weishi’s feet were planted on it, trembling like he was operating a sewing machine, either out of nerves or excitement.

Gu Lizhou lifted his legs and placed them on either side of the footboard.

Zhong Wishi’s feet instantly stopped shaking.

“Why are you stealing my spot? Trying to show off your long legs?”

“What do you mean your spot? Did it say your name on it? Besides, my legs are long anyway; I don’t need to show off.”

“Shameless.” Zhong Weishi said.

Gu Lizhou slapped his waist. “Hurry up! Er’Gou’s turning!”

“I’m not fvcking blind!” Zhong Weishi shot back as they turned into a dimly lit alley.

Er’Gou was walking ahead, holding his phone in his right hand, seemingly talking to someone, his pace neither fast nor slow.

Zhong Weishi didn’t dare to get too close, maintaining a steady speed of 6 mph. With someone riding behind him, it was slow but it felt a bit strenuous.

“So why exactly are we riding this?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“I thought he had a car ah.” Zhong Weishi replied in a small voice.

Once they exited the alley, they found themselves on a narrow bluestone road that was over a meter wide.

Er’Gou was about thirty meters away from them.

Zhong Weishi wasn’t very familiar with this road—besides the routes within a kilometer of Lanshan Apartments, he was lost in the rest of the area.

The narrow path had no streetlights, and the end was invisible in the darkness.

On their left was a sewage canal, its surface covered with a layer of dark green moss, releasing a strange, pungent stench into the air. To the right were old houses with blue bricks and white walls.

Gu Lizhou pinched his nose: “What’s that smell ah?”

“It’s the smell of dead bodies. A while ago, someone found several corpses floating in the river,” Zhong Weishi replied somberly. “When they were discovered, they were already decayed, like pig trotters boiled for a day, flesh and bones separating. They couldn’t recover them all, so the remains are still in the river…”

“Are you serious?” Gu Lizhou frowned as he looked toward the canal, his grip on Zhong Weishi’s shirt tightening unconsciously.

The imagery was vivid in his mind.

For a brief moment, he truly believed this was once a crime scene until he heard Zhong Weishi’s laughter.

The kind of laugh that was very light, like someone reveling in a devious plot.

“Help me call to ask where Qiangzi and the others are,” Zhong Weishi said. “My phone’s in my pocket.”

Gu Lizhou rummaged through his pants pocket for the phone. “Password.”

Zhong Weishi: “Six eights.”

“How cliché,” Gu Lizhou said as he entered the numbers.

Zhong Weishi: “Cliché, yet you can’t guess it.”

“If you give me time, I’ll definitely get it right…” The vehicle was so small that when Gu Lizhou leaned down, his head nearly bumped into Zhong Weishi’s back. The bumps and jolts of the ride caused him to hit it several times.

His hair was all messed up.

“Is it done?” Zhong Weishi asked.

Gu Lizhou’s fingertips slid across the screen, spotting several names of top-tier celebrities. As well as, why does he have Spider-Man in his contacts?

“What did you note to Qiangzi?”

“Ancestor Yan.”²’彦’ means man of virtue and ability. ‘祖’ means ancestor, forefather, grandparents.

“…”

Just as Gu Lizhou pressed the phone to his ear, a mechanical female voice echoed, “Your phone has been suspended.”

“How is it suspended again?” Gu Lizhou asked. “Wasn’t it just a few days ago?”

“Oh,” Zhong Weishi replied casually, “I forgot to top up.”

Gu Lizhou found it hard to comprehend.

Using his own phone, he dialed the number. Before he could even say “hello,” a rapid stream of words burst forth from the other end like a dam breaking: “Where are you guys ah? Why is everyone dispersing? What about A’Wei’s bike? Did you ride over there? Is that person definitely Er’Gou?”

Gu Lizhou said, “We’re following someone right now, I’ll send the location to the group, you can come over by yourselves.”

“Success! We’ll meet up soon. I trust that…” Before Qiangzi could finish, the other side ended the call.

“… This person is a bit cold,” Qiangzi said to the blackened screen.

Previously, they had analyzed the situation and, using Gu Lizhou’s “Circular Hypothesis Theory”³Changing the name to this. I’ll probably edit the previous one… soon. deduced that Er’Gou’s residence was likely around the vicinity of Xingfu District.

Gu Lizhou turned on the hotspot and glanced at their current location while sharing the location.

They were quite close to Xingfu District.

However, Qiangzi and the others were still at North Square.

As their coordinates drew nearer to Xingfu District, Qiangzi and the others slowly began to move.

Gu Lizhou was focused on the enlarged map when the vehicle suddenly slammed to a stop, causing his face to crash into Zhong Weishi’s back.

Alongside the scent of tobacco, he caught a whiff of a faint medicinal smell.

Rubbing his nose, Gu Lizhou tilted his head and saw that Er’Gou went into a residential area.

This area was directly across from Xingfu District, featuring self-built two- to three-story duplexes. To enter the main gate, one had to swipe a card or enter a password to unlock it.

Due to the distance separating them too far, before they could figure out the situation, the gate behind Er’Gou had already locked itself automatically.

fvck,” Zhong Weishi shook the iron railing at the entrance. “This shitty place even needs a password.”

Gu Lizhou was about to suggest they wait until tomorrow to squat when Zhong Weishi had already stepped on the central horizontal bar of the railing and flipped over into the compound.

Under the dark moon and gusty wind, he moved with the agility of a habitual criminal.

Gu Lizhou had no choice but to give him a thumbs up from across the railing.

“Hurry up and come over too ah!” Zhong Weishi urged in a hushed tone. “Didn’t you say your legs are long!”

Gu Lizhou hesitated. Not to mention that the railing was at least three meters high, making it easy to sprain an ankle if he jumped down; he had never done anything like this before, not even watched anyone else do it.

Since getting to know Zhong Weishi and his gang, he had been continuously reevaluating his understanding of “moral boundaries.”

The expression on the man’s face inside the fence shifted from anxious to doubtful, as if the words “You can’t be serious, can you?” were etched on his face.

For the sake of a man’s dignity.

In the end, he still jumped over.

As he landed, a sharp pain shot through the soles of his feet. Fortunately, Zhong Weishi reached out to steady him, allowing him to regain his balance.

The sound Gu Lizhou made when landing was quite loud, causing Er’Gou to glance back. Whether he sensed something or not, he suddenly quickened his pace.

Thinking that they now had the advantage of two against one, Zhong Weishi pointed at Er’Gou’s head and shouted loudly, “Stop! Don’t run!”

Gu Lizhou couldn’t stop him even if he wanted to.

The two were initially only about 20 meters from Er’Gou, but as soon as Zhong Weishi shouted, Er’Gou darted away like a weasel, disappearing around the corner in an instant.

Zhong Weishi chased after him like a gust of wind, quickly turning the corner.

At this point, the sky had darkened, and there were no streetlights in the community. As they turned the corner, a sense of foreboding washed over them.

The path ahead was empty.

These small duplex buildings were separated by a distance in the middle of each two households, making it clear that Er’Gou had slipped away through one of the gaps after turning.

It was highly likely he was hiding somewhere nearby…

Perhaps even watching them.

Both of them had the same thought, and they couldn’t help but break out in cold sweat.

Zhong Weishi stared at the rows of identical buildings, and sank in despair.

Just then, a beam of light illuminated the path in front of him.

Gu Lizhou held up his phone and waved it side to side.

Neither was occupied.

“Be careful.”

Gu Lizhou whispered, stepping in front of Zhong Weishi and instinctively placing a hand in front of him.

“Thanks,” Gu Lizhou waved his hand, declining their good intentions. “I can’t eat spicy food. If I do, I get small red rashes on my skin.”

“Then you’re quite sensitive,” Zhong Weishi said. “This is the first time I’ve heard of someone being allergic to spicy food.”

“Maybe it’s hormonal imbalance ah,” Da Fei said with concern. “A’Wei had a terrible acne breakout recently. When he went to see a traditional Chinese doctor, they said it was a hormonal issue. How’s your bowel movement? Are you constipated? Is it dry?”

Gu Li Zhou held his head, speechless.

He shouldn’t have lied about being unable to eat spicy food just to avoid the spicy snacks!

Da Fei ate the spicy strips slowly, and the conversation shifted from constipation to discussing what men should eat for kidney deficiency, with him and Zhong Weishi chatting enthusiastically.

Gu Lizhou didn’t really want to join their conversation, but it was no use at all.

“Are you impotent?”¹This literally translates to “Do you have kidney deficiency?”, but in this context, it’s commonly used as a euphemism for male sexual weakness or impotence, as the kidneys are believed to play a key role in reproductive health according to traditional Chinese medicine (TCM). The question came out of nowhere.

Da Fei’s curiosity stemmed from fear, as he’d heard that men tend to develop deficiencies as they age. Among them, only Gu Lizhou could be considered “a man of a certain age.”

Seeing the fragile neighborly relationship they had built with great difficulty about to break, Zhong Weishi quickly grabbed Da Fei’s sleeve. “What kind of question is that! Even if he had kidney issues, would he tell you!”

Gu Lizhou didn’t know how many times he recited in his heart: ‘We live in a society governed by law, killing is illegal,’ ‘Neighbors should get along peacefully,’ ‘Don’t argue with fools.’ Then he took a breath and smiled, “My kidneys are just fine, thanks for your concern ah.”

“You’re welcome.” Da Fei adjusted his wig and joined the group of dancing elderly women.

His slender figure, his back indistinguishable from the male or female, swayed gracefully. His thin waist danced more precisely than anyone else’s in the square, successfully attracting the attention of both single and married men.

Zhong Weishi recorded a short video of Da Fei and sent it in the group chat.

[Huangfu]: fvck, Da Fei’s got some serious moves with those hips ah!

[Weishi]: Honestly, with that figure, he’s no less than a woman.

[Wei-ge]: I’m starting to suspect there’s a little princess living inside him.

[Huangfu]: Too much of a goddess.

[Huangfu]: Da Fei, why don’t you just start wearing women’s clothes from now on?

Zhong Weishi stared at the screen, laughing uncontrollably, and gave a thumbs-up to Qiangzi’s “goddess.”

Da Fei, fully immersed in his role, gave him a flirtatious wink.

Zhong Weishi chuckled. “I suddenly realize Da Fei has a real talent for being a woman ah.”

The square was noisy, and Gu Lizhou couldn’t hear clearly, so he moved a little closer to Zhong Weishi. “What did you just say?”

Zhong Weishi turned to him and said loudly, “I said, do you want to go up there and dance for a while? It’s good for your body and mind!”

Gu Lizhou immediately refused the suggestion. “No, no, no, no, absolutely not. I don’t know how.”

“If you can’t, just learn ah. Look at Da Fei, he’s just moving randomly.” Zhong Weishi said.

“He has a natural talent for it,” Gu Lizhou said.

“Give it a try ah!” Zhong Weishi nudged his chin. “You might have talent too! With your long arms and legs, won’t it be a shame not to dance?”

Gu Lizhou was resolute. “No way, I’d rather die than go.”

After about half an hour, the sky gradually darkened.

Even though the warm breeze still blew through the square, the crowd had noticeably thinned, and some of the elderly participants started to leave one by one.

Gu Lizhou hadn’t really expected to find Er’Gou here; he was just there for the fun of it. After finishing his milk tea and cleaning up, he asked, “Do you guys want to head back?”

“No,” Zhong Weishi’s head was still bobbing to the rhythm of the music. “You’re leaving ah?”

“Ah, it’s getting dark. Er’Gou probably won’t show up. Let’s try again tomorrow,” Gu Lizhou said.

Zhong Weishi glanced at him. “Then you go first. I’m not leaving; I’ll wait.”

“What are you still waiting for ah?” Gu Lizhou sighed, scanning the area around the square. “The crowd’s almost gone.”

“It’s not completely gone yet. You never know,” Zhong Weishi said.

“Why are you always thinking ‘you never know’?” Gu Lizhou muttered to himself, then turned to him. “Don’t you feel like you’re wasting time?”

Zhong Weishi stopped bobbing his head. “Why are you suddenly saying that?”

Gu Lizhou licked his lips and voiced his concern. “There’s a chance Er’Gou won’t show up around Fenglin Community anymore. Isn’t it pointless for you to keep waiting here? Even if we found Er’Gou and his place, what if he’s already spent all the money? You guys wouldn’t get anything out of it. Why bother with all this effort?”

They obviously don’t have any brains, skill, money or support.

There was obviously the high probability of it being fruitless. Why were these people still willing to put in time and energy?

Gu Lizhou really couldn’t figure it out.

“How would you know if you don’t try?” Zhong Weishi braced both palms on either side of him and turned his head to look at him. “Everyone has a day when they reach the end of their life. So if we already know there’s an endpoint, why do people still strive to live?”

Gu Lizhou was silent.

“Because there’s light ahead,” Zhong Weishi smiled. “Where there’s light, there’s hope. If we assume ‘Er’Gou definitely won’t show up,’ then, of course, it loses its meaning. So we have to believe ‘Er’Gou will appear.’ Even if today’s attempt fails, what does it matter? There’s always tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that… Only by making a genuine effort can people see the direction clearly.”

Only by making a genuine effort can people see the direction clearly.

Zhong Weishi’s words felt like nails being hammered into Gu Lizhou’s heart, each word striking deep.

He, too, once had a direction to strive for and had seen hope before.

But fate had played a cruel trick, causing him to lose all his glory.

For the first time, Gu Lizhou questioned his past.

Was it fate?

Or had he given up hope first?

As another song ended, the square fell quiet for a few seconds before another familiar tune started playing. This time, it wasn’t a DJ version; the melody was much softer than the previous ones.

The crowd quickly scattered like grains of sand, as men and women paired up, each holding their partner’s hand until everyone formed a large circle.

This was going to be a duo dance.

Before Gu Lizhou could think clearly, Da Fei suddenly approached them.

“Everyone has a dance partner, and I feel so embarrassed being alone. Come dance with me!” Da Fei grabbed Zhong Weishi’s wrist.

“No, no, no!” Zhong Weishi clung desperately to the tree behind him, motioning toward Gu Lizhou. “Ask him to dance with you.”

Gu Lizhou waved his hand with a cold expression, so Da Fei didn’t dare to speak to him further.

“It’s fun ah, just try it with me.”

“No, I can’t, my limbs are uncoordinated.”

“I saw you doing flips earlier, and you seemed pretty coordinated ah,” Gu Lizhou said, gloating. “Weren’t you the one who just said to give it a try?”

“Roll! I’m withdrawing now!”

Da Fei, determined, wrapped his arm around Zhong Weishi’s and pulled him backward, baring his teeth.

Such a humiliating thing, of course, he had to drag someone down with him!

The two struggled like they were playing tug-of-war, neither willing to let go.

Several men watched Da Fei, secretly feeling pity. Such a feisty and attractive girl, and she already had a boyfriend.

Gu Lizhou circled behind the tree, gripping Zhong Weishi’s fingers, prying them open little by little with force.

Their strength was evenly matched, and Zhong Weishi’s fingernails turned pale as he shouted angrily, “Gu Lizhou, you fvcking let go of me!”

Gu Lizhou pulled a thorn off a nearby iron tree.

…

Zhong Weishi was yanked by the collar by Da Fei. He was dragged backwards all the way into the circle, and gave Gu Lizhou a middle finger.

Gu Lizhou laughed with his eyebrows bent, as he mouthed, “I’m watching you.”

“Say bye-bye to the gloom~ Let the beautiful rainbow stay~ Grab your hand, and dance wildly~ Sing out the brilliance of tomorrow~ La la la la~”

“Throw your worries to the Ninth Heaven²The highest of the heavens~ Let happiness and joy come your way~ Grab your hand, and dance to your heart’s content~ Dance out a bright future~ La la la la~~”

Zhong Weishi danced to the melody.

His dancing style was so clear and strange that he was particularly eye-catching in the crowd, while others were dancing in pairs while holding hands, he was just twisting rice-planting songs.

His movements were so clear and outlandish that he practically stood out in the crowd. While others held hands for a partner dance, he was doing a completely different style—his hips twisting to Yangge.³A popular rural folk dance.

His lack of coordination exceeded Gu Lizhou’s expectations. If he wasn’t stepping on his own feet, he was stepping on Da Fei’s.

The two kept bumping into each other in ways that defied explanation.

The final dramatic dip move ended with Da Fei being dropped to the ground.

Gu Lizhou couldn’t remember how many years it had been since he laughed so freely; he laughed so hard he couldn’t straighten up.

His fingers gripped his phone, shaking as he managed to record a clip and shared it with Cao Zhiheng.

[Useless Yet Awake]: Spot the highlight.

[Cao Zhiheng]: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha⁴I counted and it was 17 lol

[Cao Zhiheng]: Where are you at?

[Cao Zhiheng]: Who are these two idiots ah?

[Cao Zhiheng]: fvck, isn’t that 301? Hahahahahahahahaha, what is he doing, acting like he’s downed a kilo of shaojiu?⁵Name of a famous Tang dynasty whine, same as Baijiu

Gu Lizhou didn’t even want to waste a second replying. He held up his phone discreetly, suppressing his laughter until his belly ached.

As Zhong Weishi spun around, he happened to make eye contact with Gu Lizhou. He felt something odd about the way Gu Lizhou had his arms crossed, and then he noticed the phone tucked inside his elbow.

“Are you secretly filming me!” Zhong Weishi pointed at him. “Watch out, or I’ll sue you for violating my image rights!”

“No, how could that be.” Gu Lizhou smiled, not the slightest hint of guilt on his face.

“Then put your phone down.” Zhong Weishi was spun in place by Da Fei. “And don’t point the camera at me.”

Gu Lizhou boldly raised the phone directly at him. “With such graceful dance moves, I have to capture this for you…”

His voice suddenly cut off, and his fingers moved quickly across the screen.

He zoomed in.

Zhong Weishi, feeling embarrassed and ready to retreat, noticed the playful expression on Gu Lizhou’s face suddenly freeze.

An eyebrow was raised.

He signaled with a glance.

Zhong Weishi immediately picked up on it and turned to look behind him.

Not far away, a man crouched behind a flower bed, staring lecherously at a girl’s legs.

“It was probably around one or two o’clock in the afternoon, someone heard crying at the orphanage’s entrance and picked me up. That’s why I was named ‘Weishi.’”

When Zhong Weishi said this, his face was expressionless, and his tone was as calm as if he were recounting an unrelated piece of news.

But to an outsider’s ears, it was rather shocking.

Gu Lizhou stared at the little brat before him, who was probably about 12 years younger than him, with a complicated expression.

He had mixed feelings inside, but mostly disbelief.

There had never been a situation like this around him.

Wasn’t throwing away children something that only happened in the news or TV dramas?

“So how did you grow up?” Gu Lizhou looked at him. “Adopted?”

“Sort of.” A wisp of white smoke blew from Zhong Weishi’s lips.

It was the first time Gu Lizhou saw the boy with his eyes downcast.

There was an indescribable feeling.

Sadness?

Not really. In his opinion, Zhong Weishi wasn’t the kind of weak person who needed others’ pity.

He still remembered the scene at Qingfeng Garden when Zhong Weishi had pinned him against the wall and warned him.

It was the recklessness unique to youth.

Like a plant growing wild.

The crowd in the square grew larger, and the sound of people was so loud that it was almost like a swarm of demons.

But at this moment, in Gu Lizhou’s eyes, there was only the reflection of a slender, lean boy.

Gu Lizhou could tell he didn’t want to talk much about his childhood, so he tactfully changed the subject. “My name is Gu Lizhou—‘Li’ as in gift, and ‘Zhou’ as in oasis.”

“I thought it was the ‘Zhou’ for a small boat.”¹His Zhou was from “洲” which came from ‘绿洲’ meaning Oasis. ZW thought it was ‘舟’ from ‘小船’ which means small boat. Zhong Weishi laughed.

Gu Lizhou furrowed his brows briefly, then relaxed. “I heard it was originally that ‘Zhou,’ but later, my aunt asked someone to read my fortune. They said I lacked water in my fate, so they changed it to the ‘Zhou’ with the water radical.”²The water radical in the 洲 ‘zhou’ in his name here is ‘氵’ this one.

Zhong Weishi nodded thoughtfully. “They’re both nice. They suit you.”

The two had been at odds for several weeks, so hearing a compliment out of the blue, Gu Lizhou almost felt flattered.

Out of politeness, he returned the compliment. “Well, you cried at just the right time. If you had cried at one or two in the morning, your name would’ve been Zhong Choushi.”³The ‘丑’ chou in Choushi can also mean shameful, ugly, disgraceful or clown, other than in 1-2am.

Zhong Weishi burst out laughing and couldn’t hold back a curse. “fvck you.”

After a while, he rubbed his nose and moved closer. “So, what, I just cursed out of habit.”

Gu Lizhou wanted to say, “I know ah,” but for some reason, the words twisted on their way out. “Apologize.”

Zhong Weishi had never apologized to anyone in his life. He hadn’t even apologized for mistaking Gu Lizhou for Er’Gou and pinning him against the wall last time, let alone for cursing at him.

Seeing Zhong Weishi hesitate for a while without responding, Gu Lizhou cleared his throat. “If you don’t apologize, give me back the chicken wrap.”

“fvck,” Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened. “Weren’t you the one who forced me to eat it! You didn’t say anything about paying ah!”

“But you still ate it.” Gu Lizhou shrugged. “So, either apologize or pay up.”

“If you’d told me you wanted money, I’d have thrown it up.” Zhong Weishi slapped his palm. “Wait till I get rich, and I’ll treat you to a big meal.”

“Will that day ever come?” Gu Lizhou shot him a sidelong glance.

“Don’t look down on people,” Zhong Weishi flicked away his cigarette butt. “One day, I’ll bury you alive with coins.”

The rhythm of the square dance was so strong that even while Gu Lizhou crossed his legs, he couldn’t help but tap his foot to the beat. In the end, he forced himself to put it back down.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gu Lizhou noticed Zhong Weishi’s leg shaking like he was working a sewing machine.

Da Fei had somehow crossed over from the south square, carrying a plastic bag in his hand.

Gu Lizhou saw Zhong Weishi pull out a cup of milk tea, pierce it with a straw, and start drinking it in big gulps without even saying thank you.

Gu Lizhou thought the two brothers were going to sit down and chat, so he shifted to the side. Unexpectedly, Da Fei handed him another cup of milk tea. “Want some? It’s on me.”

Although Gu Lizhou had seen all kinds of shameful performances from this group, knew their twisted taste, had seen Da Fei cross-dressed, and even conspired with them on the “catch Er’Gou plan,” he still didn’t consider them familiar.

Just as he was hesitating whether to take the milk tea, the person next to him nudged his arm. “Try it. The boba milk tea here is really chewy.”

Gu Li Zhou took the milk tea.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had this kind of milk tea. The only time he ever ordered milk tea was at a tea restaurant, where he’d get the plain kind without any add-ins.

“What’s a boba milk tea?”

Da Fei looked at him in shock. “Is this your first time drinking milk tea?”

Zhong Weishi almost choked on his own milk tea, thinking, are these rich people really like the ones on TV who don’t eat or drink junk food? What’s the point of life if that’s the case!

“Boba is just pearls, those round balls,” He explained, making a circle with his slender fingers. “Made from tapioca, I think. Anyway, they’re chewy.”

“Then why call them boba instead of pearls?” Gu Lizhou pierced the milk tea and took a sip.

“Doesn’t boba sound bigger!” Zhong Weishi puffed out his chest.

Gu Lizhou choked on the milk tea he had just sipped. “Oh.”

The legendary boba was indeed quite chewy.

Gu Lizhou felt that this cup of milk tea tasted different from what he remembered.

The milk flavor was a bit stronger than the black tea, and the aftertaste was a bit cloying.

When he lifted it up to look, he noticed that the toppings had almost piled up to the middle of the cup.

Nata de coco, red beans, pudding… He tasted all sorts of things.

“Are all these ingredients free?” Gu Lizhou couldn’t help but complain.

“Yes! How did you know!” Da Fei pointed to a direction. “There’s a ‘7 O’Clock’ milk tea shop over there. The owner is really nice—toppings are all free. Guaranteed to fill you up with just one cup!”

“…” He had no intention of going there.

Da Fei sat between the two of them, opened a bag of snacks, and handed some to Zhong Weishi, pointing at the dancing aunties. “Honestly, I could dance better than that.”

Zhong Weishi replied, “Then hurry up and open my eyes.”

Da Fei said, “Let me finish this bag of spicy strips first.”

Gu Lizhou was initially texting when he suddenly caught a whiff of spice and turned to look.

Zhong Weishi and Da Fei were each holding a bag of spicy strips, watching and eating, laughing as they enjoyed themselves.

Since Da Fei was currently dressed as a “woman,” he delicately nibbled on one strip, even sucking his fingers afterward. The person next to him, however, grabbed the bag and shoved a handful into his mouth at once.

He ate the spicy strips with the vigor of a tug-of-war.

Gu Lizhou struggled to hold back his laughter, turning on the recording function and pretending to scratch his nose as he aimed the camera at Zhong Weishi.

The gang was practically a fountain of joy for him!

Da Fei suddenly leaned closer to Zhong Weishi and whispered, “He was just looking at me. Should I offer him some?”

“Give ah.” Zhong Weishi mumbled, “Give him yours. I’ve already bitten into mine.”

“But he doesn’t look like the kind of person who eats spicy strips.” Da Fei looked around sneakily, whispering as if he was afraid Gu Lizhou might overhear.

“Just in case he likes them.” Zhong Weishi smiled and nudged Da Fei. “Try it.”

Gu Lizhou thought his secret filming had been discovered, so he calmly put away his phone and ran a hand through his hair.

He stared seriously at the lead dancer auntie in the square.

“Um…” Da Fei, acting as if he were meeting a blind date for the first time, shyly extended the spicy strips. “Want some?”

“Ah…” Gu Lizhou was still caught up in his thoughts—’Did they catch me filming? How awkward. How should I explain?’—and didn’t react immediately.

Zhong Weishi tilted his head, recommending the spicy strips just like he had recommended the milk tea. “Try it. Weilong, an old brand. It’s really good, trust me.”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

---

Author’s Note:

Key takeaway: The easiest way to compliment a person’s good temperament?

You don’t look like the kind of person who eats spicy strips.