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

Gu Lizhou narrowed his eyes and took a drag of his cigarette. “You just flipped from 301 to 306. Isn’t this ticket a bit overpriced? Are you bullying me?”

How is this bullying?!

Zhong Weishi had a whole new understanding of the term “shameless.”

“One minute on stage, ten years of practice off stage. That was just a rehearsal; this is the real performance. How could it be the same?” Zhong Weishi stuffed the money into his pocket. “If you want the full show, you’ll have to pay more.”

In all his years, Gu Lizhou had never encountered a guy with this kind of temperament before. He smiled and pulled out his wallet.

Before coming to City B, he happened to withdraw some money from the bank. Inside it was a bunch of brand new Grandpa Mao that were at least two or three thousand yuan.

Zhong Weishi’s eyes nearly popped out. He then heard the other party’s low voice, “Money isn’t the issue. It’s all about your performance. If I’m satisfied, all of this is yours.”

“…” Why did that line sound worse the more he listened?

Was this the young version of Fifth Master Qin?¹Fifth Qin Master, alias Fifth Master, is an upright character in the TV Series “Deep Emotions in the Misty Rain”. He is the owner of the Shanghai Opera House. He has a clear sense of right and wrong, a sense of justice, and often helps others when he sees injustice.

Without much thought, Zhong Weishi took a few steps back to the 301 door.

A few simple flips were nothing to him, especially since it was the first time someone was willing to pay to watch him perform.

“Watch closely ah.”

Zhong Weishi adjusted his pants, his stance was full of confidence. “Let me show you what a whirlwind looks like…”

Because he was standing too far, Gu Lizhou couldn’t catch the last few words clearly. He just leaned against the balcony, watching the boy, who always had a fierce expression and kept saying things like “none of your business,” launch himself into the air with one leg.

A beautiful side flip.

It was immediately followed by several more perfectly executed front flips in succession—all without the boy’s hand ever touching the ground.

Gu Lizhou wondered if the boy had springs attached to his feet.

The boy’s legs were slender and powerful, generating an explosive force as he flipped, cutting through the air in front of him like a gust of wind.

Gu Lizhou stared intently, and the acrobatic performance he had seen on TV not long ago suddenly flashed in his mind.

This boy’s performance was even better, with various flips seamlessly flowing together, creating a dazzling display.

Watching up close brought an even more powerful visual impact.

After flipping to the door of 306, the boy didn’t stop; instead, he planted his hands on the ground and proceeded to walk forward on his hands.

His calves bent slightly to maintain balance, and he moved at a pretty fast pace.

By the time he reached the doorway of 303, his ears had turned bright red from the rush of blood.

As if provoking, the boy hooked his lips at him and smiled.

The night breeze brushed past his ears, carrying a bit of chill, washing away the exhaustion and irritation of the day.

Gu Lizhou saw the boy’s T-shirt gradually slide up from his waist to his chest, revealing a wide expanse of toned muscle. As he breathed, his lower abdomen tensed slightly, probably from the effort.

This posture wasn’t exactly sexy, but the figure was undeniably impressive.

Zhong Weishi’s eyes were fixed on the ground as he worked hard to maintain his balance, his elbows trembling slightly.

Gu Lizhou stubbed out his cigarette and tilted his head, catching a glimpse of the faint groove on the boy’s lower back…

“What are you grinning at? You look like a complete idiot.” Cao Zhiheng came out of the kitchen after cleaning up the dishes and saw Gu Lizhou staring at his phone with a silly smile.

“Good stuff.” Gu Lizhou dragged the progress bar back to where it started.

Cao Zhiheng saw a boy on the screen, walking on his hands, with taut lines along his arms and waist.

It was the kid from 301.

He had no idea how long he held that position, but his T-shirt was almost covering his face, making him look rather pitiful.

Suddenly, Gu Lizhou’s slightly hoarse and playful voice came from the side. “Great job. Come get your money.”

Zhong Weishi hadn’t expected this pretty boy to be friends with the guy from 303 who was into art—in his worldview, anyone who could make money without stepping outside was an artist.

What he didn’t expect even more was how generous this pretty boy turned out to be.

2,000 yuan.

A stack of Grandpa Mao bills with Mona Lisa-like smile was handed right in front of him.

“Take it, your ticket money. Don’t say I bullied you.”

Zhong Weishi tugged at his waistband. As he walked over, he caught a faint scent of tobacco.

That little pretty boy’s addiction to cigarettes seemed pretty big; in the time it took for him to do a few flips, he was already on his second cigarette.

But smoking wasn’t the same for everyone—different grades of cigarettes left different scents. He had smelled the overwhelming, choking stench of smoke that filled internet cafes and the faint aroma lingering on a certain famous artist.

He wasn’t sure what brand the pretty boy smoked, but you had to get close to catch the scent.

It was barely there.

There was even a drop of good smell.

Zhong Weishi figured his nose must have automatically activated a filter because of the appearance of this stack of Grandpa Mao.

For someone who barely had enough to eat but not his next, 2,000 yuan was considered a huge sum of money. But holding the money didn’t sit well with him. After hesitating for half a day, he only pulled one bill from the top.

“One hundred is enough, otherwise it’s really bullying you.”

Gu Lizhou smiled without saying a word and turned to head back into 303.

The pretty boy’s smile was quite nice—almost like a celebrity’s. Zhong Weishi thought about it while lying on his bed.

No, wait. Just because someone paid for a ticket doesn’t mean they’re a good person!

Zhong Weishi started to feel curious about the pretty boy’s occupation.

He flipped through his phone’s calendar to check the date they first met; it happened to be a weekday.

Could he also be an artist?

No, no, no. What kind of normal person would throw money around like that?

Zhong Weishi recalled the pretty boy’s exact words: “Money isn’t the issue. It’s all about your performance. If I’m satisfied, all of this is yours.”

As if he had a bubble in his brain.²Implies that he must’ve something wrong in his head.

His tone and expression were annoyingly punchable.

Zhong Weishi figured it was more likely he was some hedonistic son of rich parents, a rich and powerful second-generation…

But why would a rich second-generation live in a shitty place like this?

Running away from marriage?!

The real-life version of “The Young Master’s Escape from Marriage”?!

Zhong Weishi rolled over, deciding it was better to focus on how to get through tomorrow.

The Wi-Fi from upstairs was slow, and it took ten minutes just for the rental page to load.

There were no new messages.

When he tried to refresh the page to search for jobs, a network connection error appeared.

With a cup of instant noodles in hand, Zhong Weishi squatted on the balcony of 301, checking the group chat messages.

[Huangfu]: What do you guys think about using a honey trap to lure Er’Gou out?

[Da Fei]: Very good ah, I second the motion!

[Wei-ge]: Then, where to find a beauty?

Zhong Weishi laughed and muttered, psychopaths, as he scrolled up to read the chat history.

It turned out that last night, Qiangzi and the others had been staking out at Fenglin Community when they spotted a man who looked like Er’Gou.

A clue so soon?

Since he had nothing better to do, Zhong Weishi became interested in the honey trap idea.

[Weishi]: Tomorrow, I’ll borrow a costume from a friend in a film crew. Da Fei, you’ll have to make a sacrifice.

[Da Fei]: No, no, I can’t… I’ve never dressed up as a woman before…

[Huangfu]: Da Fei! Have you forgotten what I told you? The word can’t should never exist in a man’s vocabulary!

For the first time, Da Fei had a stroke of genius: How about you do it instead?

[Huangfu]: My figure won’t allow it. Otherwise, I’ll do it.

[Weishi]: Da Fei, don’t you want to experience what it feels like to wear a dress at least once?

The following day at noon.

Gu Lizhou woke up from a nap in the hotel’s big bed and lazily glanced at his phone with two unread messages.

[Cao Zhiheng]: When are you coming over today? I’ve already tidied up the room for you. It’s the one by the balcony.

[Cao Zhiheng]: I need to head to the film set first, so I might be home late. The key is under the green flower pot outside the balcony, stuck with transparent tape. Clean yourself up and wait for me on the bed. [Sassy whoosh.jpg]

Gu Lizhou replied “stupid”.

With no one around and nothing to do, Gu Lizhou bonelessly lay on the bed, ordered takeout, and watched a documentary while he ate.

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the afternoon, when the hotel called to ask if he wanted to extend his stay or check out, that he remembered he had to check out.

He hadn’t planned to stay long anyway, so he didn’t have much luggage. He finished packing in about ten minutes and dragged his luggage to the hotel entrance to hail a taxi.

The trip from the hotel to the Lanshan Apartments in Xicheng District took over an hour.

It wasn’t far, but the traffic was terrible; he had to wait through three or four red lights before he could get through.

As he sat in the car, the sun shining down made him drowsy. He watched the army of electric bikes and bicycles whizzing past and felt utterly helpless.

He finally realized why Cao Zhiheng said he didn’t want to drive.

When he got out of the car, he caught a whiff of takoyaki.

A granny pushed a stall cart by a flower bed, with two young girls waiting nearby.

The cart looked pretty simple, and on it, there was a crooked A4 paper sign that read: 10 yuan a serving.

Gu Lizhou suddenly recalled the image of the black tank top wolfing down takoyaki last night. He crossed the road and ordered a serving for himself.

The two girls, who had been busy taking pictures of the old woman’s takoyaki, instinctively turned to look when they heard his voice. Once they did, they found it hard to look away and shared a sly smile.

Granny was quite old and slow in her movements. In just a few minutes, the crowd around her grew larger, and it took a while for her to prepare two servings.

“What sauce do you want?” The granny looked up at him.

“Any cheese?” Gu Li Zhou asked.

“What?” The granny looked at him.

“Cheese.” Gu Lizhou gestured with his hand, “The yellow kind that can stretch.”

The granny nodded calmly and smoothly squeezed out a stringy salad dressing. “Is it like this?”

Gu Lizhou was taken aback. “Ah, yes…”

Maybe it was because he was hungry, but he found the takoyaki quite tasty and finished it in one go while sitting by the flower bed.

As he approached the entrance of the apartment building, he heard a girl’s voice calling “handsome brother” from behind.

He didn’t feel like turning around.

How embarrassing it would’ve been if he wasn’t being called.

“Handsome brother! Hey! The one in the white shirt! Wait!” The girl’s voice grew closer.

Gu Lizhou looked down at his t-shirt.

White.

So he turned around and recognized that it was the two girls who had been in line with him for the takoyaki.

“I’ve been calling you for half a day la, why didn’t you answer?” One of the girls was pushing his suitcase.

Only then did Gu Lizhou realize he had left his luggage at the granny’s stall.

Spending all day lazing around really brought him a step closer to dementia.

After thanking them, Gu Lizhou sighed and turned to the apartment.

The Lanshan Apartments had a concave design, with two stairway entrances located at the ends of the concave shape. Each floor housed twelve households, though only a few were currently occupied.

To reach Cao Zhiheng’s place, Gu Lizhou had to pass by three households.

301 was at the end of the corridor.

As he went upstairs, he instinctively glanced at the door; it was closed.

On the balcony, a T-shirt and a light gray pair of underwear were hanging. The underwear had a yellow cartoon chick printed on it, with an eggshell perched on top of the chick’s head.

What a damn taste.

Before long, Cao Zhiheng returned home carrying a bunch of fresh fruits and vegetables.

While changing his shoes, he shouted, “Yo, look at you, so well-behaved. Waiting at home for me, huh? I’ll make you braised pork for dinner tonight. Do you like that?”

“Whatever, I’ll eat whatever you make.”

“Would you eat poop?” Cao Zhiheng carried the vegetables into the kitchen.

“Old Cao.” Gu Lizhou peeled a banana. “You’re a grown man now; can you stop bringing up shit and urine? Do you have the nerve to say such things in front of your girlfriend?”

“Of course not.” Cao Zhiheng laughed. “But our relationship is special, isn’t it?”

“Scram.” Gu Lizhou took a bite of the banana.

“I won’t. I want to annoy you to death,” Cao Zhiheng shouted from the kitchen. “What are you standing there for? Don’t you have eyesight? Come over and wash the vegetables.”

Gu Lizhou had never done much housework in his life, but being a guest in someone else’s home meant he had to contribute in some way; otherwise, it would be unreasonable.

He couldn’t wash vegetables; he was afraid of bugs.

He couldn’t peel potatoes, he’s never done it before.

When he tried to rinse rice, he accidentally spilled it, prompting Cao Zhiheng to say “roll” at him several times. He rolled away as if relieved.

When it was time to eat, Gu Lizhou was idly wandering in the hallway when he saw the granny who had sold him takoyaki earlier locking her cart at the bottom of the stairs. She was slowly making her way toward the hallway.

“It’s you,” The granny recognized him. “You live here too?”

“Mn,” Gu Lizhou nodded, ”I just moved here today.”

As the granny climbed the stairs, her bag tore, and apples scattered all over the floor. Gu Lizhou hurriedly turned on his phone’s flashlight and went down to help.

“Ai, I don’t know what’s wrong with this light, it’s always broken. I can hardly see anything,” The granny said, using her clothing to gather the apples. After counting them, she added, “Thanks for your help ah. Here, take a couple to try. They’re crunchy and sweet.”

“Thank you.” Gu Lizhou smiled.

When Zhong Weishi returned home, he was surprised to find that the hallway light, which had been broken for a long time, was now working.

He wondered which god did this.

While collecting clothes, he heard laughter coming from the direction of apartment 303.

“Is it that funny?” Gu Lizhou squinted at Cao Zhiheng, whose face was shaking from laughter. “Can’t you think from another perspective?”

“Seriously, your mom is something else. She got scammed out of over 300,000 just like that?” Cao Zhiheng continued to laugh.

“Ghost knows. She’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed, and she insisted on learning to do business,” Gu Lizhou said.

“Then you persuade her ah.” Cao Zhiheng said.

“Persuading is useless,” Gu Lizhou replied, picking up a piece of braised pork. “She’s just idle. Whatever, when she loses all her money, she’ll stop playing.”

“Since you’re so free, why don’t you start a little café business?” Cao Zhiheng suggested.

“I’m just not cut out for business…”

As he spoke, Gu Lizhou faintly heard a “thump-thump-thump” noise coming from the hallway outside.

It had been going on for a while and was quite disturbing.

“What’s that noise? Are there children living on this floor?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“Oh, that kid from 301 is practicing martial arts,” Cao Zhiheng said casually. “Just some exercise before dinner.”

“Practicing?” Gu Lizhou paused, recalling that he had been told that person never trained.

Little liar.

Besides playing eunuchs and corpses, Zhong Weishi also occasionally took on stunt double roles.

Stunt double paid better than actors.

In order to increase his physical strength, he often worked out at home.

Just then, he had been tumbling over ten times in the empty hallway, doing flips from 301 to the door of 306.

He had started walking on his hands, attempting to get back to 301. However, halfway through, he suddenly spotted a familiar face in his line of sight.

That person had a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth and was looking down at him with a smile.

In that brief moment when their eyes met, Zhong Weishi’s elbow gave way, and he almost fell face-first onto the floor.

“fvck.” Zhong Weishi stood up and looked up at him. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was embarrassed after being caught or because he had been tumbling around for a long time, his cheeks and the roots of his ears were flushed red. “What are you looking at?”

“Why did you stop?” Gu Lizhou replied, his words slightly muffled by the cigarette still in his mouth, leaning casually against the doorframe. His relaxed posture made him look like an audience member watching a show.

Zhong Weishi wasn’t particularly familiar with the people in this building, but he had exchanged greetings with them.

At first, everyone would look at him twice, but after seeing him perform a few times, they got used to it. No one paid him any mind, so suddenly having someone stare at him made him feel inexplicably shy.

The main reason was that this person possessed a certain aura that felt out of place in Xicheng District, making Zhong Weishi feel like his gaze was mocking him.

Zhong Weishi didn’t reply and walked straight toward 301.

Gu Lizhou pinched the cigarette between his fingers, softening his tone but maintaining his lazy demeanor. “I’m asking you, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“None of your business.” Zhong Weishi glanced back at him. “You’re not paying for a ticket, so why should I let you watch for free ah?”

Even though this man shamelessly claimed to be his employer yesterday, he didn’t acknowledge it.

Aside from the matter of finding Er’Gou, they had no relationship, and it was even worse than being strangers.

The grudge from the tattoo was too deep to reconcile!

“Such a big temper?” Gu Lizhou stepped closer to the balcony and shook off some ash. “How much for that performance? How much would it take to see it again?”

Zhong Weishi: “…”

Though it had been his idea to bring it up, he felt that the line wasn’t quite appropriate.

Noticing he stood still and was silent, Gu Lizhou took out a small change from his pocket. “50. Is that enough?”

Was a man’s pride only worth 50 yuan!

Zhong Weishi hesitated for half a second, then did two cartwheels on the spot and snatched the money from him.

“fvck, it’s still fvcking there.” Zhong Weishi exclaimed in surprise, eagerly leaning in to tap the avatar.

The fluffy and soft hair lightly touched someone’s cheek.

It was a bit itchy.

Gu Lizhou touched his cheek and shifted the phone a little farther away.

From a distance, it looked like the two of them had their heads huddled together.

The lighting in the last video was a bit dim, but it was clear that the background was a huge shopping mall. The colorful ground lights beneath flickered on and off.

Zhong Weishi turned up the volume.

His phone was a classic model—no longer in production.

Nothing worked but if put out, it was NB.

A booming dance track, mixed with crackling static, echoed sharply in the quiet hallway.

“In my hand, the rose has burned to ashes,

In front of the girl, people come and go…

…

Sincerity, real intention, true love, true feelings are rare,

It’s not a crime for a man to be penniless.

Will you choose Chen Shimei¹Chinese opera character and a byword in China for a heartless and unfaithful man. He was married to Qin Xianglian, also translated as Fragrant Lotus. Chen Shimei betrayed Qin Xianglian by marrying another woman, and tried to kill her to cover up his past. or become a butterfly, flying in pairs…”

There was even a bit of a tongue-twisting rap in the middle, but Zhong Weishi only caught two lines clearly.

“Love, love, I ask you.

What the hell is it!”

When he looked up, he noticed that even the pretty boy was laughing.

The camera first focused on a woman’s chest, then panned down her curvy figure.

“Damn. What the hell is this pervert filming?” Zhong Weishi’s hand slipped, and he almost accidentally liked the video. “How the hell did your mom end up with this kind of person?”

Gu Lizhou’s tone was cold, “I don’t know.”

Zhong Weishi continued scrolling through the videos.

Most of them were candid shots taken in public squares, with a clear focus on attractive women—those with good looks, graceful figures, and talent for dancing.

Eventually, Zhong Weishi came across a video of Li Yuqin. She stood out in the center of the square like a crane among chickens, happily spinning and leaping in her dance.

“I’ve got to admit, your mom’s dance moves are pretty good,” He remarked, almost tempted to double-tap for a like.

Gu Lizhou handed the phone back. “Although these filming locations aren’t all the same, we might be able to deduce his current residence using the ‘circumference theory.’”

“The what theory?” Zhong Weishi was completely lost.

Gu Lizhou briefly explained, “Draw markings on all the squares that appear in the videos on a map. Then, take the distance between the two furthest locations as the diameter and draw a circle. If nothing unexpected happens, Er’Gou’s usual activity range will be within that circle.”

“You’re that sure?” Zhong Weishi was deeply skeptical.

“If it were you, and you went out at night to dance in a square, where would you go?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“I don’t dance in squares,” Zhong Weishi shook his head.

“Assuming you dance,” Gu Lizhou said.

“Then why don’t you assume you dance?!” Zhong Weishi stretched his neck.

Gu Lizhou replied calmly, “If it were me, it’d definitely be near my house—someplace I could walk to or get to by electric scooter. It’s more convenient that way.”

“You some kind of criminal investigator or something ah?”

Gu Lizhou shrugged, “Some theoretical common sense.”

Though this guy deserves a spanking, Zhong Weishi had to admit there was some logic to the theory. So, he sent the clue to Qiangzi and the others.

[Huangfu]: Holy crap, NB ah ge! You actually found him! I’m gonna go follow him right now.

[Wei-ge]: I think this circumference theory makes a lot of sense.

[Da Fei]: Genius!

Zhong Weishi noticed Gu Lizhou still watching his screen, with a smile lingering on his face, so he replied: Don’t rush to praise just yet—we still don’t know if we’ll actually find him.

Gu Lizhou withdrew his gaze and continued, “Besides his residence, we might also be able to predict his next filming location based on these spots. You should keep an eye on the areas around your neighborhood where people gather to dance.”

Zhong Weishi responded with an “oh” and turned to head home. It wasn’t until after he finished gathering his laundry, closed the door, and sat down at his small desk by the window to reply to messages that he suddenly remembered—he was still connected to Gu Lizhou’s phone hotspot.

The point was that the hotspot actually hasn’t been disconnected!

When he looked up, he saw a pair of eyes staring at him through the half-open window.

Just then, a breeze blew past outside the window, lifting the curtains, and causing the face outside to flicker in and out of view, startling him.

Zhong Weishi pushed the window open and poked his head out. “What are you doing just standing there? You scared the hell out of me.”

“You live here?” Gu Li Zhou asked.

“Yes, why?” Zhong Weishi couldn’t figure out why this man was so curious.

“Alone?”

Noticing that Gu Lizhou was eyeing his room, Zhong Weishi grew defensive. “I have a roommate.”

“Oh.” Gu Lizhou folded his arms and kept looking at him. “What kind of work do you do?”

“Acting ah.” Zhong Weishi was stunned—never in his life did he expect to have a man chatting him up through a window. He added in shock, “My friend works in loans and debt collection, so sometimes he looks for us to help out.”

Gu Lizhou nodded thoughtfully, “Is it the first time?”

His stiff attitude and suspicious tone sounded like a police officer conducting a routine interrogation after catching some prostitutes.

“What exactly do you do?” Zhong Weishi asked.

Gu Lizhou: “Your employer.”

Gu Lizhou had been a little hesitant, wondering if calling out to him so abruptly might be a bit too forward. After all, the other person might’ve already forgotten him. However, the word “again” from the other party made him want to continue.

He pointed at the wall full of small advertisements and asked, “Did you post these?”

“How could I? Do I look like that kind of person?” As soon as Zhong Weishi finished speaking, he spotted a refreshingly out-of-place missing person notice amid the ads for “genital enlargement surgery.”

With a heavy “ai” he lazily admitted, “Yeah, I posted them. What’s the problem?”

Gu Lizhou stifled a laugh and crossed his arms. “Is this how you guys look for people?”

“What’s the problem?” Zhong Weishi countered.

Gu Lizhou sneered, spreading his left hand. “Hand me your phone.”

“What for?” Zhong Weishi instinctively reached for his pocket, suspicious that the man might take advantage of the darkness of the night as a cover to steal his phone and run.

“To help you find someone,” Gu Li Zhou said indifferently.

Zhong Weishi looked at him suspiciously, “How?”

“By using your brain.” Gu Lizhou hooked up his fingers. “Give me the phone.”

Wow!

Look at that NB¹牛(niú) 逼 (bī) – equals to fvcking awesome in English. attitude—he could blow a rhino up to the sky with it.

Zhong Weishi had seen shameless people before, but never anyone this shameless.

Suppressing the urge to kick him down the stairs, Zhong Weishi fished out his phone and handed it over, ready to poke holes in his boasting.

Gu Lizhou flipped the phone so the screen faced him. “Unlock.”

“I’m telling you, calling won’t help. My friend tried countless times, and it just gives a busy signal.” Even as Zhong Weishi said this, he unlocked the phone anyway.

Who knows how many years the phone case had been used? The printed design was almost worn down to a solid black.

There were seven pages of apps in total, mostly games and video software. Each time he flipped through a page, the phone lagged a little.

Seeing him tapping away at the screen as if searching for something, Zhong Weishi couldn’t help but lean in. “Don’t go snooping ah. I’ve got a lot of little secrets in there.”

Gu Lizhou lifted his eyelids and gave him a knowing smirk as if something had come to mind.

Zhong Weishi didn’t need to guess to know what he was thinking. “Not the kind you’re imagining. I, am a decent person.”

Gu Lizhou didn’t believe it at all. “If you can’t reach him through WeChat, try other apps. There are so many ways to communicate these days, you’re bound to find something that works. Why is your phone disconnected from the internet?”

“Oh, the service was cut off,” Zhong Weishi said.

That night, he had planned to leech off the upstairs Wi-Fi to top up his phone bill. But when he opened WeChat, he found he only had 25 yuan—just short of the minimum required to recharge. So, he decided just to make do until next month.

Gu Lizhou asked, “Your service got cut off, and you’re not topping it up? What, are you planning to display this crap for an exhibition ah?”

Zhong Weishi wanted to save face, so he stuck out his neck and said, “What’s wrong with not topping up? Can’t I just use it to check the time?”

Without another word, Gu Lizhou turned on the hotspot on his phone and connected it to Zhong Weishi’s.

Zhong Weishi couldn’t help but grumble, “Why are you using my phone when you have yours?”

Gu Lizhou straightforwardly replied, “I don’t want to download Kuaishou.”²A short video social media platform where users can create and share their content in a convenient and simple way.

“Oh…” Zhong Weishi dragged out the sound, then frowned and asked, “Then, why do you think I’d have Kuaishou on my phone ah?”

Gu Li Zhou said without lifting his head, “Temperament.”

Zhong Weishi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He never thought he’d one day hear something like that from someone else.

The truth was, he did have Kuaishou on his phone, but that was only because Qiangzi, trying to mimic some kind of eating broadcast trend last year, had begged him a thousand times to download the app and help boost his presence.

He would never forget that sunny afternoon when he finally found Qiangzi’s livestream. Qiangzi was sitting in the back of a tricycle, with a vast golden wheat field as the backdrop.

Inside the tricycle sat a huge rice vat, large enough to fit two Sima Guangs, filled with fiery red chili oil and instant noodles.

Qiangzi, grinning ear to ear, basked in the joy of the harvest as he spoke to the screen, “Today, I’m taking on the instant noodle challenge! There are 100 packets of noodles here, and since I like my food spicy, I bought the spicy beef flavor and added two jars of Lao Gan Ma. If you like this, follow me oh!”

That day, Qiangzi summoned almost every brothers in the internet cafe to come online and send him gifts, driving the viewership into the four digits.

It was like the whole place was in a state of flux.

It felt like he was peaking the moment he debuted.

Qiangzi used both hands to shovel noodles into his mouth, devouring them like a king, his sheer presence oozing from the screen.

That was also the first time in Zhong Weishi’s life that he’d ever tipped a streamer.

By the time Qiangzi had eaten half the vat, he couldn’t stop hiccupping, clutching his round belly, so stuffed he could no longer speak.

As expected, Qiangzi ended up wrecking his stomach.

That very night, he vomited and had diarrhea, eventually needing to go to the hospital for a three-day IV drip. When Qiangzi’s mother came to bring him some food, he took one look at the noodles and directly threw up.

From that point on, he developed a strong aversion to eating live streams.

“I downloaded it and forgot to delete it,” Zhong Weishi concluded.

Gu Lizhou believed his lengthy explanation, especially since the only streamer in his follow list was one called “Big Stomach King Huangfu.”

The last post on that account was from June of last year.

He resisted the urge to click and witness that heart-wrenching eating show.

What surprised Zhong Weishi, though, was that after Gu Lizhou entered a string of numbers into the search bar, an ID actually popped up.

The avatar was Er’Gou.

Gu Lizhou was at the hotel, packing his luggage and getting ready to take a shower. When he saw the message, he immediately called his mom.

“That kind of person is obviously a scammer, how could you still believe them ah?”

“He seemed so sincere when he spoke. He didn’t really seem like a scammer ah…”

Gu Lizhou sighed. He finally understood why elderly people can get deeply trapped in pyramid schemes. Even someone as educated as his mom could be so easily fooled.

“An old sow wearing a bra—one trick after another.¹This was the literal translation. It means someone who is continuously scheming or using tricks which often implies that their schemes are outlandish or unsuitable for them—much like the absurd image of a sow in a bra. If you give them money now, they’ll definitely come up with ways to ask for more. When you’re free, you should read more social news. There are countless stories of scams like this.”

“Then what about the money I already lost?” Li Yuqin said pitifully.

“Didn’t you already report it to the police? They’ll investigate and open a case. Investigations take time, so don’t be anxious.”

Gu Lizhou thought that if worse came to worst, he’d cover the lost money himself to spare his mom from any more stress.

“In short, don’t trust those people, okay?”

“Oh.” Li Yuqin responded with some disappointment.

In her view, those people didn’t seem like bad guys at all. In fact, they were even a bit cute.

If they really were scammers, it meant she had a terrible sense of judgment.

Seeing how sincerely they discussed plans in the group chat, she felt a bit bad. So, she sent a 500-yuan red envelope as a token of goodwill, thinking that if they were scammers, she’d just consider it her way of doing charity.

[Perfect Marriage]: I’ll send more once you make some progress.

Ever since Huangfu Qiang added Auntie into the group chat, he created a smaller four-person chat where he was currently giving an impassioned speech on video.

“Don’t look down on this 500 yuan. Even a fly’s worth of meat is still meat. Since she’s willing to give, it means she trusts us! Let’s have faith, determination, and perseverance to help her recover the 300,000 yuan she lost.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Zhong Weishi was staring at familiar faces on the screen, he might have thought he had accidentally wandered into some sort of pyramid scheme himself.

“What’s our slogan?!”

“The strongest in the Xicheng District—”

Before the sentence could be completed, the screen suddenly froze. Except for Zhong Weishi, who had no idea what the slogan even was and remained blank-faced, the other three were frozen in grotesque expressions, baring their teeth.

Bad signal?

Zhong Weishi raised his phone and moved closer to the window.

The network was completely disconnected.

What the hell?

Returning to the bed, Zhong Weishi realized that even his computer had lost its connection.

He tried calling Qiangzi’s phone.

“Your phone service has been disconnected.”

“…”

During the time when Zhong Weishi had lost contact with everyone, Huangfu Qiang took the photos provided by Li Yuqin to a print shop and had a stack of missing person posters made.

“Zhang Gou, male, 38 years old, from Zhangjiagou Village, speaks with a non-standard Mandarin accent, left home after a family argument and hasn’t returned since… Any information leading to his whereabouts will be greatly rewarded. Contact number: xxx.”

Gu Lizhou stood in front of a telephone pole by the apartment entrance, staring at the missing person poster, feeling conflicted.

This definitely seemed like the kind of thing only those retards would come up with.

Could they really be looking for someone?

[Cao Zhiheng]: Have you arrived?

[Useless Yet Awake]: Downstairs.

Gu Lizhou looked up at the old apartment building.

Over thirty years ago, he was born here and lived with his grandparents.

From kindergarten to elementary school and then middle school…

As far as he could remember, his parents were always busy, only coming home during the Chinese New Year or any holidays.

He always looked forward to the New Year.

He couldn’t remember the exact day, but one time his parents both came home and took him out to a fancy restaurant for dinner.

Before they had even eaten much, his father suddenly announced with a grim expression, that he was divorcing his mother.

That was the first time he understood what it felt like to be struck by a bolt from the blue.

No one enjoyed that meal.

The harmonious family that everyone envied was split in two.

At the top of the apartment building, the large pendulum still hung, with a second hand over a meter long, moving slowly like an elderly person, ticking forward bit by bit.

Coming back here now felt like he had traveled through time.

He still remembered that when he was a child, the clock on the roof would chime “dong, dong, dong” at noon every day.

Times had changed. The elderly members of his family had passed away, and the house was sold to someone else.

He hadn’t been back here for about ten years.

The stairwell was still narrow and dark, with barely any light even during the day. The peeling walls were plastered with crude small advertisements.

“Three-minute painless abortion,” “Genital enlargement surgery, make your partner scream nonstop,” “Guaranteed cure for gonorrhea and syphilis,” “Personal mortgage loans,” “Quick processing for college and vocational diplomas”…

Still that familiar smell..

Cao Zhiheng’s home used to be just a couple of doors down from his, on the third floor, apartment 303.

As Gu Lizhou walked upstairs, he noticed that all the lights in the stairwell were broken.

“Why hasn’t anyone fixed the lights?” He asked, turning off his flashlight as he stepped out of the stairwell.

Cao Zhiheng, leaning against the corridor wall with a handful of melon seeds, replied, “These old apartments are all rented out to migrant workers now. I guess there’s no money in it, so the property management ran off long ago.”

Seeing Gu Lizhou glance towards apartment 301, Cao Zhiheng casually asked, “Wanna check it out?”

“Is anyone living there?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“Probably not at the moment. The landlord rented it out to two young guys, but I haven’t seen one of them in a long time. Maybe he moved out; I’m not too sure.”

As they spoke, the two had already wandered to the doorway of 301.

Back in the day, to guard against thieves, the whole building had a uniform design: security gates and barred windows. Standing at the entrance felt like visiting someone in jail.

The layout of the apartments was equally simple: entering the front door led to the dining room and living room, with the master and secondary bedrooms on the right side. All the rooms together formed a big square.

The tenants of 301 hadn’t completely drawn their curtains, and through a small gap, Gu Lizhou could see the interior.

The living room was filled of old furniture.

When he was a child, his family was poor, and the sofas and chairs were custom-made by an old village carpenter in the countryside, painted with a coat of red varnish to make them look festive.

He’d heard those pieces were part of his grandmother’s dowry.

As their lives gradually improved and his parents moved into a new home, the old furniture was left behind in the old house.

Gu Lizhou was relieved to see that the tables and chairs were still intact, and the entire living room was reasonably tidy.

The corridor acted as a balcony, and the weather was nice today. As far as his eye could see were bed sheets, duvet covers, and clothes hanging to dry.

Among them, his eyes fell on a black tank top that looked awfully familiar.

The crew neck of the shirt had stretched into a V-neck, and next to it hung a pair of men’s underwear with a cartoon elephant printed on the crotch. A pair of plain black “Anima” brand sweatpants flapped in the wind.

The person’s sense of style was utterly perplexing.

An image of a certain retarded individual vaguely appeared in Gu Lizhou’s mind, but he figured he was probably overthinking it.

Black tank tops were everywhere.

“Do you know the person who lives here?” Gu Lizhou asked as he turned to walk back.

“Nope. I just happened to run into him twice on the subway and saw he was also headed to the film studio. He looked pretty young. Not sure if he’s even old enough to be working,” Cao Zhiheng said.

Gu Lizhou let out an “oh” and didn’t continue the conversation.

Cao Zhiheng was a prop master specializing in the film and television industry. He excelled in painting and carving, having inherited the trade from his father. Now, he was a somewhat well-known sculptor in the industry, with many directors competing to have him on their sets.

The ninety-plus square meter apartment was packed with various finished and half-finished products, leaving Gu Lizhou with no place to stand when he entered.

“Have your parents moved into their new place already?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“Yeah, they moved last year.” Cao Zhiheng shifted things from the sofa to the floor, clearing a spot for him to sit.

Gu Lizhou picked up a wooden sculpture nearby and fiddled with it casually. “Then, why didn’t you move out with them? This building’s practically a condemned D-Class structure. I just saw a crack in the stairwell wall wider than my finger.”

“It’s not that bad,” Cao Zhiheng chuckled. “I’ve gotten used to living here, and I’m too lazy to move. Plus, it’s closer to the film studio.”

“If it’s far, just drive.” Gu Li Zhou said casually.

“Traffic jam ah, and no available free parking. I can’t afford to pay for parking. An electric scooter’s way better,” Cao Zhiheng said, handing him a yogurt from the fridge.

As Gu Lizhou looked around the familiar little room, his eyes unintentionally fell on a woman’s jacket.

“You’ve been seeing someone, huh?”

“Yeah,” Cao Zhiheng smiled. “Yes ah, been dating for over half a year.”

“Very good,” Gu Lizhou nodded with a smile. “We should have a meal together sometime.”

“What about you?” Cao Zhiheng asked.

“Not interested,” Gu Lizhou replied without hesitation.

Cao Zhiheng narrowed his eyes.

His childhood friend had been single for over 30 years. In the past, he could use the excuse of being too busy with work, but now he wandered around like a ghost, showing no interest in women. It inevitably lets people’s imagination run wild.

“Are you not interested in dating, or are you just not interested in women ah?”

“Neither.” Gu Lizhou shrugged his shoulders.

After some casual chit-chat, a thought suddenly crossed Cao Zhiheng’s mind. “You know who I saw at the film studio the other day?”

“Who?” Gu Lizhou raised his eyes.

“Cui Sheng.” Cao Zhiheng’s expression changed.

Gu Lizhou’s movement to unscrew the bottle cap paused.

His fingers instinctively tightened, and the bottle deformed under the pressure.

With its fake smile concealing malice, Cui Sheng’s face surfaced in his mind again.

“Thank you all for choosing to support and believe in me. I will prove through my actions that you haven’t misplaced your trust. Good and evil will eventually be repaid. God is watching…”

Good and evil will eventually be repaid

How laughably ironic.

Gu Lizhou’s nails almost dug into his flesh as it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, his frustration threatening to explode.

Those words echoed in his mind, and a burning sensation rose in his chest.

The very thought of it made him feel sick.

“That s/ut is currently making a movie, “Storm”, working with Director Gu Chuan…”

“Enough.” Gu Lizhou coldly interrupted, his voice sharp. “I don’t want to know these things.”

Cao Zhiheng froze for a moment, feeling a bit awkward. “Sorry about that.”

Gu Lizhou lowered his head in silence for a moment. “I’m not blaming you. I just don’t want to hear that person’s name.”

“I get it.” Cao Zhiheng patted his shoulder and changed the subject. “How’ve you been lately? Looking for a new job?”

“No,” Gu Lizhou shook his head. “I don’t even know what else I can do. What’s the point of living anyway?”

Uh-oh.

He’s hit the bull’s-eye again.

Cao Zhiheng quickly tried to comfort him. “Come on, you’ve made plenty of money, bought a car, a house, and you don’t need to worry about food and clothing. Don’t overthink it.”

Gu Lizhou sighed quietly, stretching out lazily on the sofa. “But life feels pointless ah. Every day is just eating and waiting for death. What’s the difference between me and a useless person?”

“Man, you don’t know how lucky you are. Plenty of people would envy your life,” Cao Zhiheng hooked an arm around his neck. “If things really feel that bad, why don’t you come with me? Help me with some carving work and drop it off at the sets. There are plenty of beautiful actresses on the crews.”

Gu Lizhou glanced at him but didn’t say anything.

“How about it ah?” Cao Zhiheng turned to look at him. “I’m telling you, all your problems come from having too much time on your hands. Get busy with me for a few days, and I guarantee you’ll sleep like a baby, forget all your worries.”

“Really?” Gu Lizhou chuckled.

“Absolutely ah!” Cao Zhiheng slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s settled, then ah. You stay here with me for a while, and I’ll pay you at the end of the month.”

“How much will I get?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“Depends on your performance.” Cao Zhiheng said.

When Gu Lizhou left Cao Zhiheng’s place, the sky had already darkened significantly.

He had originally planned to stay a few days before heading back to City B, but for some reason, he impulsively agreed to stay longer with Cao Zhiheng.

However, thinking about it, it didn’t really matter. Anyway, he was a salted fish,²Similar to a couch potato or a slacker. it was the same anywhere. Maybe having some company would improve his mood.

Gu Lizhou turned on his flashlight, illuminating the stairs in the dim corridor.

After taking just a couple of steps, he heard hurried footsteps coming from the darker part of the hallway below.

He stopped somewhat cautiously.

Crashing into view was a tall man, devouring a box of takoyaki with his head down, clearly wolfing down his food.

From his vantage point, Gu Lizhou looked down at the man’s head and found the hairstyle somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t quite make out his face from this angle.

His line of sight moved along with the man.

Just as they were about to pass each other, a sudden realization flashed in Gu Lizhou’s mind, as if a light had gone off.

“Hey—” He couldn’t recall the name of the guy in the black tank top.

Zhong Weishi was lost in his own thoughts, and the sudden call startled him so much that his soul seemed to tremble.

The takoyaki he had just picked up slipped from his grasp, rolling down the steps. Zhong Weishi was furious.

“Shit, you scared me…” He turned his head, the curse dying in his throat as soon as he recognized the person. “Why is it you again?”

Gu Lizhou stood on the balcony, making a call to an old friend from Yucheng. As he glanced around, he noticed the troublemakers from earlier, arms slung around each other, heading outside.

The residential area had a large green space with many side paths. He saw the guy in the tank top raise his hand and point left, only for the other three to forcibly drag him to the right.

Once the call connected, Gu Lizhou switched to speaker mode and placed his phone on the flower rack on the balcony.

“I arrived in Yucheng this morning.”

Cao Zhiheng’s voice came through, “That was fast ah. Where are you now? Want to come hang out?”

“As it should be ah. I’ve been waiting for your invitation,” Gu Lizhou replied with a chuckle.

Cao Zhiheng was Gu Lizhou’s childhood friend. The two had known each other since kindergarten, back when the Gu Family lived in a small house less than 100 square meters in the countryside of Xicheng District.

After his parents divorced, Gu Lizhou moved to City B with his father and rarely returned.

As they grew older, his visits became even less frequent. Thankfully, their childhood friendship endured; even after years apart, they could chat without any awkwardness or distance.

While Gu Lizhou was arranging a meet-up time with Cao Zhiheng, he spotted the four retards in the distance, stacking themselves like a human pyramid under a large tree.

“Da Fei, is your waist still holding up?” A’Wei glanced down at Da Fei’s hair whorl.

“Still… still okay.” Da Fei’s head was pressed against the tree trunk, his molars clenched. With every word, he felt more of his strength drain away. “Just don’t… don’t, don’t talk to me.”

A’Wei, perched on Da Fei’s shoulders, clung to the thick tree trunk. “Push me up a bit more! I’m almost there! I can hear the birds chirping!”

Zhong Weishi stood nearby, recording the scene with malicious glee. He could laugh about this for a whole year.

Meanwhile, Qiangzi had somehow found a tree branch and handed it to A’Wei. “Here, Wei-ge, stab it with this!”

Da Fei was so anxious he was about to start stomping his feet. “No, no, what if the bird eggs fall and break?”

Qiangzi gritted his teeth and prepared to step on A’Wei’s shoulders to take it to the next level. “I’ll climb up and grab them. Da Fei, hang in there a bit longer!”

“Hey hey hey, I can’t I can’t…” Da Fei shouted, his voice cracking as his knees slowly began to buckle.

Qiangzi patted Da Fei’s back, encouraging him, “The word ‘can’t’ shouldn’t exist in a man’s dictionary! You can do it!”

Zhong Weishi couldn’t help but laugh. “Jiayou,¹To cheer someone up. Da Fei, hang in there!”

Meanwhile, the security guard on patrol who had been feeding stray cats with his food bowl looked up and saw the bizarre scene. He ran over, shouting, “Hey, hey, hey—Those guys over there! What’s going on! What’s going on!”

Gu Lizhou watched as the human pyramid they had built collapsed with a thud. The three retards fell flat on their backs, rolling and scrambling on the ground.

The guy in the tank top leapt over the flowerbed like Hurdler Liu Xiang,²A former Chinese 110 meter hurdler. He is an Olympic Gold medalist. his tousled hair flying in the wind as he led the charge.

The skinny guy who fell at the end, lost a slipper while running. He hesitated about going back for it, but before he could decide, his retarded teammates dragged him away from the scene.

He glanced back every three steps forward.

The security guard uncle picked up the lost flip-flop, cursing under his breath, “Don’t let me see you guys again!”

Gu Lizhou laughed so hard that his voice reached Cao Zhiheng on the other end of the phone.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing, just some psychopaths who escaped from the hospital.” Gu Lizhou licked his lips and slowly walked back into the living room. “Then, I’ll come find you when you’re free.”

Li Yuqin placed the dishes on the table and called out from the living room, “Lizhou, let’s eat.”

The meal consisted of three dishes and a soup, all lightly flavored—just the type of food Gu Lizhou used to love.

“Try the chicken soup, see how it tastes,” Li Yuqin said as she served him a bowl of rice.

Gu Lizhou took a spoonful, his smile gentle. “It’s quite good.”

Mother and son hadn’t seen each other for nearly two years, so a bit of small talk was inevitable. Most of it was Gu Lizhou listening as his mother talked about recent events.

Li Yuqin had previously run a beauty salon and a café, but both were transferred because they weren’t making enough money. Now, she spends her days idle at home.

“Running a business isn’t as easy as you think,” Gu Lizhou put down his chopsticks. “You’re at retirement age anyway, so don’t waste your energy on pointless things.”

“But it’s so boring being alone,” Li Yuqin sighed softly.

Gu Lizhou looked at her, wanting to say something but hesitating.

Indeed.

It had become quite meaningless.

To be cruelly stripped of what one loves and aspires to is like losing direction in life.

It might seem like nothing was missing, but it felt as though the soul had been hollowed out, leaving no motivation for anything.

Days like this, he had fallen into that same emptiness, and he could deeply relate.

“What about you, are you still writing now?” Li Yuqin asked.

Gu Lizhou shook his head. “No, there’s no point.”

Li Yuqin didn’t know how to comfort him, so she placed a shrimp in his bowl. “Eat more. Let the past stay in the past. Life still goes on.”

“Mn.” As Gu Lizhou peeled the shrimp, something suddenly came to mind. “Is there a large pharmacy nearby? I forgot my medication.”

“You can even forget ah.” Li Yuqin looked at her son with concern, wondering whether it was just a coincidence or if the side effects of those Western medications were getting worse. “Have you been to the hospital recently?”

“Mn.” Gu Lizhou nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Really.”

“That’s good,” Li Yuqin smiled faintly. “Honestly, I don’t have any big wishes anymore. I just hope you can be a little happier.”

Gu Lizhou smiled too. “I know.”

“Then, how long are you staying this time? Do you want to move in with me for a few days? I can tidy up the room next door, and we can go to the supermarket this afternoon to buy a new bedding set,” Li Yuqin asked, her eyes full of anticipation.

“No need to go through all that trouble,” Gu Lizhou replied, lowering his head to politely decline. “I’m just out for a stroll, and my things are at the hotel. In a couple of days, I’ll go stay with my friend for a bit.”

Li Yuqin let out an “oh” and didn’t insist.

When he was young, Li Yuqin was too busy with work to take care of her son, so they weren’t close. After the divorce, they barely saw each other, and their relationship grew even more distant.

Gu Lizhou never initiated heart-to-heart conversations with her. Even when he was forced, he only offered a few words, like squeezing toothpaste.

She felt helpless but had grown used to it.

As Li Yuqin got up to clear the dishes, the phone on the dining table buzzed twice.

Her phone didn’t have a password, and the WeChat interface automatically lit up.

The message came from a group called “Xicheng District’s Express Debt Collection Team.”

Gu Lizhou curiously went over and scanned it.

There were only five people in the group, including his mom. Judging by the profile pictures, it was the same bunch of psychopaths from earlier.

[Huangfu]: Auntie! I forgot to ask earlier, do you have any recent photos of Er’Gou? I want to print them out and ask around the neighborhood.

[Wei-ge]: Actually, it doesn’t matter if they’re recent. As long as you have some, that’s good enough.

[Da Fei]: Exactly!

The group chat was added when they were chatting in the living room earlier. Gu Lizhou had initially thought it was just a joke, but it turned out these guys were serious.

The police couldn’t even find this person, and they expected to?

Gu Lizhou snorted and moved his eyes away.

“Why hasn’t she replied?” Qiangzi stared at his phone for a long time. “It’s been ten minutes! Even if I fvcking searched with my feet, I’d have found something by now. Maybe there are no photos?”

Da Fei, who had lost one of his “glass slippers,” propped his leg on Qiangzi’s lap, trying to get his attention. “Maybe she hasn’t seen it yet. No need to rush.”

Qiangzi pulled out a pack of cigarettes and handed one to each of them, but when he went to light it, he realized he didn’t have a lighter.

Zhong Weishi touched his pocket. “Damn, it seems like I dropped mine in the neighborhood too.”

A group of people returned all the cigarettes in their hands.

Sorrowful.

“Qiang-ge,” Da Fei wiggled his toes. “Can I get reimbursed for my lost slipper?”

Qiangzi clumsily changed the subject. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t we come up with a concrete plan to capture Er’Gou?”

A bunch of people were all doing this kind of thing for the first time, and after pondering for half a day, they were still completely clueless.

“I’ll leave the matter of finding someone to you,” Zhong Weishi patted his shoulder. ““I still have to shoot a movie, so I don’t have time to fool around lately. Once you find him, I can take care of cornering him.”

“Do you have a movie to shoot?” Qiangzi looked up skeptically.

Zhong Weishi felt as if an arrow had pierced his heart and gritted his teeth. “I’m the second male lead this time.”

Da Fei’s eyes widened with excitement, as if witnessing his wife and newborn being wheeled out of the delivery room. “For real, ge! Second male lead ah! You’re gonna make it big! Is it too late for me to hug your thigh?”

Qiangzi: “Which episode do you die in?!”

Zhong Weishi’s face hardened. “This time it’s a proper second male lead role—I won’t be dying.”

Technically, it was true he was the second male lead, but in reality, he was just the body double for the second male lead.

The second male lead was a swimmer, and the director, impressed by Zhong Weishi’s physique and graceful diving form, decided to keep him on.

“You went to be a nude double for someone la?” On the bus, Da Fei was utterly shocked, unable to believe that his Shi-ge had fallen to the point of selling his body.

“Shh!” Zhong Weishi wished he could sew his mouth shut. “It’s just the upper body, nothing below.”

“Actually, being a nude body double isn’t shameful ah,” A’Wei chimed in. “It just proves that our Shi-ge has a smoking hot body.”

Zhong Weishi rolled his eyes. “Don’t describe it blindly if you don’t know how to. Is that how you describe a guy?”

Da Fei pondered seriously for a moment. “Graceful curves.”

“Roll.”

They returned home around 3 p.m. Zhong Weishi threw his tank top onto the bed and glanced down at the Qiongqi tattoo on his body, the tail of which had rubbed off partially.

Washing it off seemed like a waste. After all, it had cost him 100 yuan and was his first ever tattoo in his life.

But if he didn’t wash it, he would suffer OCD. The sight of the ruined tattoo was getting under his skin.

He hadn’t noticed it earlier at his friend’s place, but now he saw that Gu Lizhou had left two blueish finger marks on his forearm from when he’d grabbed him.

The hand had a really strong grip.

In the end, he grabbed a black marker and colored in the missing part of Qiongqi’s tail, deciding to keep it for his upcoming audition as a thug who attacks the lead character with a knife.

Maybe he’d even get some screen time on TV.

While waiting for his instant noodles to cook, he logged into a housing rental website on his ancient, eight-hand laptop to see if there were any listings for shared apartments.

A new message appeared in the upper right corner, and he clicked on it with a moment of excitement, but it turned out to be an advertisement.

He roughly calculated his expenses. Rent plus utilities, would run over 2,000 yuan per month. Adding in daily costs, he would need to earn at least 100 yuan a day just to scr4p3 by, let alone save up for any acting classes.

At this rate, he figured he might need to find a new place and a new roommate soon. The thought left him irritated.

He hated moving. It was time-consuming, exhausting, and expensive.

This apartment building was old, but it was conveniently located close to the film production base. Because of its age and less-than-attractive appearance, the rent was relatively cheap.

He casually scrolled through a few listings online. Rooms along the subway line were going for around 2,000 yuan a month for a single unit—completely out of his budget.

The phone on his desk buzzed constantly, still notifications from the debt collection group chat.

It looked like Qiangzi was really planning to challenge the impossible.

[Huangfu]: Auntie, it’s like this. For us to take the job, we need an upfront payment. If we don’t succeed, it’ll be refunded to you. If we succeed, you’ll just need to pay the remaining balance.

[Perfect Marriage]: Yes, how much do you need?

[Huangfu]: Half should do it—5,000 yuan.

[Perfect Marriage]: I don’t have that much money in my WeChat, I’ll let my son transfer it to you.

Moments later, the system pinged with another message: “Worthless Yet Awake” had joined the chat.

The WeChat name was blunt and crude, yet somehow seemed to carry some kind of deep meaning that wasn’t clear.

It feels very cultured.

Zhong Weishi curiously clicked on Gu Lizhou’s avatar to take a closer look.

It was a cactus in a pot.

…The peculiar taste of an old man.

Suddenly, he found that the WeChat name wasn’t so special after all.

[Perfect Marriage]: Son, do you have money in your WeChat account? Help me pay the project’s startup fee.

Immediately afterward, a new message popped up from the system.

“Worthless Yet Awake” has left the group chat.

Gu Lizhou thought he was going crazy.

Half of his cheek was pressed against the door, and both of his hands were being held down. If someone were to take a picture of this scene, it could be used as the cover for a social news article titled: “Man Caught Red-Handed in a Prostitution Raid, Scene of Anti-Prostitution Operation Exposed.”

Putting aside the fact that these people barged in recklessly without any sense of reason and looking at the slender and powerful thief pinning him down so forcefully that his ribs ached, what in the world was this “Er’Gou” they were talking about?

The way the other person spoke with such sincerity made him start to question if he had forgotten some disgraceful, unspeakable part of his past.

Just as he was about to speak, the other person’s voice rang out again.

This time, his lips were almost touching his ear, and waves of hot breath drilled into his eardrum.

“Look at you, all dressed up like a decent person. Why can’t you just find a proper job? With your looks and voice, so many people would envy you. You could be making the highest commission just selling milk tea, but instead, you…”

Zhong Weishi suddenly trailed off.

To be honest, he didn’t really know what shady business this Er’Gou had gotten himself into. Qiangzi had only mentioned he owed money, not why he owed it.

But the mood had already been set, and he couldn’t lose his momentum.

So Gu Lizhou heard the other person grit his teeth and say, “…messing with women.”

“I told you… you’ve got the wrong person…” Gu Lizhou’s handsome face was now completely distorted from being squished, and his words were slurred. As he struggled to break free, the three people behind him tightened their grip even more.

His phone had already been snatched away.

Immediately after that he felt someone take off his watch with lightning speed, and a sinful hand reached into his pocket, rummaging around.

Rummaging and rummaging.

“Boom—”

Gu Lizhou could almost hear the sound of the string called “reason” in his head snap, as if it had been burned through.

“Let go!” Gu Lizhou clenched his fists, glaring at Zhong Weishi. “Don’t touch me!”

At this point, Zhong Weishi had already grabbed the man’s wallet, but the other party’s hip was pressed firmly against the door, trapping Zhong Weishi’s fingers in his pocket.

No way out.

“You fvcking let go first, I can’t pull my hand out!” Zhong Weishi shouted back.

Gu Lizhou could clearly feel the other person gripping his wallet. “You let go of my wallet first!”

So these people were robbers?

He hadn’t been to Qingfeng Garden many times, and he hadn’t bothered to check if there were any cameras in the hallway. If these people took the money and ran, he was afraid that there probably wouldn’t be much he could do about it.

To fvcking hell with him.

Since he couldn’t reach the doorbell, he had no choice but to drop all pretense, raise his voice, and shout, “Mom! —Open the door!”

Zhong Weishi was stunned.

What the hell?

Did this guy seriously have a rich woman as his sugar mommy?

Rich people really know how to play.

Almost at the same time, the door opened from the inside.

Li Yuqin had been in the kitchen cooking when she heard some muffled noises outside the door, like people talking. She curiously walked over to check.

The peephole was blocked by Gu Lizhou’s face, so she couldn’t see anything.

She was on guard and didn’t dare to open the door. But her son’s thunderous shout gave her a fright.

Gu Lizhou’s entire weight was pressed against the door. The sudden opening caused him to lose balance, and he almost stumbled right into the entryway.

Behind him, the force holding him down suddenly loosened, but then he felt someone who also couldn’t stop in time and directly crashed into his back.

His already unstable body finally gave out completely.

With a thud, he fell to his knees onto the carpet in a very ungraceful manner.

Someone was still on top of him like a toad.

Even in this situation, that hand hadn’t forgotten to try and fish out his wallet.

How to describe that feeling.

It was probably the first time in his life he had the urge to commit murder and dismember someone.

“Weishi!” A’Wei was the first to react, quickly helping Zhong Weishi up, followed by Da Fei. “Ge! Are you alright, ge?!”

Zhong Weishi rubbed the bridge of his nose and waved his hand, smoothly slipping the wallet he had grabbed into his own pocket.

Thank goodness he wasn’t fooled and paid in advance last time, convincing him to get the “latest popular celebrity-style nasal implant.” Otherwise, it would probably have exploded by now.

Gu Lizhou finally pushed himself up from the carpet and turned around to seize up this group of robbers.

Leading the group was the guy he had just run into in the elevator, wearing a black tank top—probably one of those packs of cheap ones you could get online for 9.9 yuan, with a neckline that had stretched so much it was practically a deep V, exposing a large, tattooed chest.

A wild beast, baring its fangs and claws.

Though his face was good-looking, it was obvious that he was no good.

Next to him were two guys with buzz cuts—one fat, one thin. They looked like the kind of characters who usually die off quickly in movies due to their low IQ.

Yet, at this moment, these two fools were currently holding his phone and watch—one in each hand.

“Give me back my stuff.” Gu Lizhou said, reaching out to grab them.

Zhong Weishi slapped his hand away and righteously said, “Give what back! You should pay back the money you owe first!”

Gu Lizhou felt that communicating with these people using normal logic was pointless. His only option was to take down the leader first, so he grabbed Zhong Weishi by his loose neckline and pulled him toward himself.

The distance between them was close enough for him to clearly see his own reflection in the other’s pupils.

“Listen, I’ll say this one last time. I am not this Gou you’re talking about. Now, give. Me. My. Stuff. Back.”

His voice was deep, and the way he stared at Zhong Weishi carried a strong, oppressive force. Zhong Weishi was momentarily stunned by the glare.

“What stuff?” Li Yuqin was also confused. “Lizhou, who are these people?”

A’Wei, having watched too many anti-Japanese spy war dramas, considered himself far more experienced and intelligent than the average person. He confidently patted the man’s shoulder and said, “Little guy, nice acting skills, huh? Did you win an Oscar for that? But don’t think you can escape the real problem like this.”

Da Fei was taken aback at first, but after processing what A’Wei said, he almost wanted to applaud his Wei-ge for his sharp insight. Then, he confidently echoed, “Exactly!”

For the first time, Gu Lizhou felt how close he was to actual lunatics.

His head throbbed so much that it was about to explode.

Only one thought remained: Time to act.

He suddenly shoved the buzz-cut guy aside, slammed the tattooed man onto the shoe rack at the entrance, using his body weight to pin him down, while his other hand groped around for his wallet.

“fvck,” Zhong Weishi, being ticklish, could hardly keep from bursting out laughing as Gu Lizhou’s hands fumbled around. “What the fvck are you doing! Stop!”

Today, to project a thug-like appearance, Zhong Weishi was wearing a flashy pair of beach shorts with large, deep pockets. That big hand was wandering all over his thigh.

Gu Lizhou finally gripped the wallet, but Zhong Weishi grabbed his hand.

“Get the fvck off me!” Zhong Weishi growled, “Where are you touching!”

At this point, Gu Lizhou had completely lost control of his emotions, tossing aside all pretense of civility. He snarled back with a curse, “Let go of your fvcking hand! That’s my wallet! Believe it or not, if you touch me again, I’ll crush your balls!”

“Shit.” Zhong Weishi was utterly dumbfounded by how shameless this “Er’Gou” was. He was left speechless, unable to form a response.

A’Wei, overhearing the exchange from the sidelines, felt a twinge of pain in his own private parts. He walked over, patting Er’Gou on the shoulder, trying to defuse the situation: “Hey, that… We’re all guys here, no need to take it this far.”

Da Fei also stepped in at the right moment, “Exactly!”

The two men were locked in a tug-of-war, neither willing to let go. During the struggle, Zhong Weishi kept pinching Er’Gou’s muscles, his nails almost digging in.

Gu Lizhou, in pain from being pinched, gripped Zhong Weishi’s arm and twisted it hard.

—And then, a fantastic scene happened.

Gu Lizhou watched in disbelief as a portion of the fierce wild beast’s fake tail came off in his hand.

His palm was filled with black bits, like the dirt you scrub off in the shower.

Of course, Zhong Weishi noticed it too.

The scene was suffocatingly awkward.

At that moment, Zhong Weishi wanted to tear Gu Lizhou in half.

Not only was this humiliating, but the luxurious 100-yuan gangster special effects were completely scrubbed off!

He had been planning to use this for an audition for a gangster role!

For the sake of that half-commission, he bit the bullet and turned on his over-the-top acting, “What do you mean, your wallet! How are you going to prove it’s yours! Now that it’s in my pocket, it’s my wallet!”

Gu Lizhou snorted, a look of disdain on his face, as he forcefully yanked his wrist free. “I’ll prove it to you right now—”

But the moment he saw the wallet in his hand, his voice came to a screeching halt.

It really wasn’t his fvcking wallet!

In that split second, Zhong Weishi had slipped the other wallet from his pocket to A’Wei.

Gu Lizhou immediately caught on and turned to snatch it back.

The expensive wallet was passed around like a game of hot potato. From A’Wei, it was tossed to Da Fei, and then from Da Fei, it was thrown to Zhong Weishi.

Watching as the guy in the black tank top raised his hand, Gu Lizhou leaped into the air, only to realize it was a feint.

“Ai hei~” Zhong Weishi teased, shaking the wallet in his hand with a sly grin before tossing it back to Da Fei.

Standing at the center of the triangle, Gu Lizhou felt like a cat chasing a teasing stick, looking a bit stupid, so he ended the chasing.

He called the police to solve the problem.

Li Yuqin still hadn’t figured out what was going on when another man entered, smoking a cigarette. He had a bright red rose tattooed on his arm, surrounded by a web.

A mysterious 3D effect.

At first glance, it looked like he was wearing a sun protection sleeve.

Now that his whole crew had arrived, Zhong Weishi confidently sat down on the couch. “Close the door, release Qiangzi.”

Meanwhile, Gu Lizhou had already used Li Yuqin’s phone to dial 110.

“Hello, how can I help you?” A woman’s voice came from the speaker.

“Dude, dude, dude! Let’s talk this out!”

Da Fei and A’Wei, now in full panic mode, hurriedly returned his phone and watch, along with the wallet their ge had risked his life to snatch.

Zhong Weishi just wanted to go home at this moment.

Qiangz didn’t react, “Ge, what’s going on here?”

“Hello, how can I help you?” The woman on the phone, probably thinking the caller was in some sort of trouble, sounded a bit tense.

Before Gu Lizhou could respond, Zhong Weishi quickly spoke up, “Nothing serious. Just wanted to wish you a Happy Children’s Day!”

Everyone: “…”

After the whole police call fiasco, Zhong Weishi finally figured out the relationship between this man and Li Yuqin.

Mother and son.

Biologically related.

The ID card in the wallet revealed that this person’s surname was Gu Lizhou.

When Li Yuqin gave birth to her son, she wasn’t even 20. She came from a poor, rural area, and after paying a small fee, she was able to settle the household registration.

She had taken good care of herself and still carried an air of elegance, looking no more than in her early 40s. Standing next to her son, they looked like a kept young man and his sponsor, not like a typical mother and child.

“This is all… a big misunderstanding, dude,” Qiangzi said with a wide grin, slinging his arm around Gu Lizhou’s shoulders as he led him to the sofa. “I had no idea Auntie’s son was already so grown up. You really don’t look like mother and son at all. She looks way too young, seriously.”

Zhong Weishi had no idea what he was talking about. All he could think was: If this guy isn’t Er’Gou, then who is the real Er’Gou?

Gu Lizhou shifted away, pushing the arm off his shoulders in disgust. In the process, he accidentally bumped into Zhong Weishi’s thigh, so he quickly stood up and moved to the small sofa on the side.

After a few polite words with the police, Li Yuqin asked, “So, what exactly is going on here ya?”

Qiangzi casually grabbed a gr4p3 from the coffee table and popped it into his mouth. “It’s like this, you see, we’re the people in charge from Jubaopen Lending Company, here to collect a debt of 100,000 yuan. Here’s my business card.”

“If you ever need a loan, feel free to come to me. Code name: Phantom. No collateral needed, just a copy of your ID or title deed will do…”

Please! Stop expanding your business at a time like this, will you!

Zhong Weishi’s insides were roaring.

Sensing the heated stare directed his way, Qiangzi quickly added, “By the way, do any of you happen to know someone called Er’Gou?”

Li Yuqin said, “I don’t know anyone called Er’Gou, but I do know someone named Zhang Gou. He scammed me out of over 300,000 yuan.”

“What?” Everyone was stunned.

It all started a few months ago with a seemingly romantic encounter.

Near Qingfeng Garden, there was a large fountain square with a stunning display of colorful, magical lights that had an overwhelming visual impact, igniting the passion of many people.

Every night, many residents gathered there to engage in a physically and mentally beneficial yet the scourge of thousands of families form of artistic fitness: Square Dancing.

Those with partners will pull their partner and danced hand-in-hand, while the widowed or divorced danced lonely fan dances off to the side.

Li Yuqin belongs to the latter.

One day, a handsome young man suddenly came over and struck up a conversation: “This beautiful woman, may I have the honor of inviting you to dance to ‘Little Apple’?”

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Li Yuqin transformed the dance of ‘Little Apple’ into a romantic waltz.

The empty-nesters in the square were filled with envy.

This “wonderful” relationship was thus concluded…

“But I never imagined that he would turn out to be a scammer. He told me he was going to start a company and asked me to invest…” Li Yuqin said, sobbing uncontrollably. “He scammed me out of hundreds of thousands, my coffin all hitched up!¹Her entire savings was all used up. And then he disappeared! Even the police couldn’t find him…”

Gu Lizhou was speechless. “How old are you? How could you still fall for these tricks that scam little girls ah?”

He said this while continuously pulling tissues from the box to wipe her tears.

“Ai…” Li Yuqin’s eyes were red, and her voice trembled. “I didn’t even plan to tell you… I thought if worse came to worst, I’d just let it go…”

“How could you just let it go!” Qiangzi burst out angrily, “That fvcking bastard is worse than a beast!”

Li Yuqin was stunned by his outburst that she hiccupped and forgot to shed her tears

“Don’t worry, Auntie, leave this to me!” Qiangzi patted his chest with a righteous expression. “I’ll make sure to get your money back…”

Failing to collect the original debt but picking up a new case instead, Zhong Weishi walked out of Building 13 at Qingfeng Garden feeling like the entire afternoon had played out like a movie.

A dog blood passion and dark fantasy.

Until someone nudged his arm.

Qiangzi looked at him with anticipation in his eyes. “Ge, are we still raiding that bird’s nest?”

Zhong Weishi: “…”

Zhong Weishi sat on the back seat of the electric scooter, listening to Qiangzi methodically laying out the work plan for tomorrow.

“Here’s the plan. First, we get the woman to call Er’Gou and lure him back home. Then, Da Fei and I will wait at the door to stop him if he tries to run, while A’Wei squats at the balcony to make sure he doesn’t jump. Your job is to go inside and negotiate with the person.”

“Like, ‘You’re surrounded!’ or ‘If you don’t pay up, we’ll burn down your old house!’ Make your tone as fierce and ruthless as possible, and channel the menacing aura of a mafia boss. If needed, we’ll step out to cheer you on.”

“…” So, for half a day, everyone else is in spectator mode while he’s the only person actually going in?”

“Then what’s the point of you guys stepping out? To be my sidekick?” Zhong Weishi rolled his eyes in exasperation. They might as well just sit in the hallway and eat takeout.

Qiangzi thought that his Shi-ge was bursting with confidence and said, “Alright ba, we won’t say anything at all when the time comes.”

“…” Zhong Weishi was starting to regret taking on this job. “What about Da Fei and A’Wei? How will the money be split? A quarter each?”

“I’ll treat them to a meal afterward, hehe.” Qiangzi grinned into the wind, “You’re not like them.”

Finally, Zhong Weishi felt a small bit of comfort.

After all, in this world, the strong are always alone.

Then he heard Qiangzi say with complete seriousness, “After all, you’ve acted as a corpse before, and your whole body is full of artistic cells. If you can’t beat the other party, you can just lie down and pretend to drop dead on the spot. We’ll use that to extort some more money out of him!”

Zhong Weishi gritted his teeth, pronouncing the word “Roll!” with rising and falling intensity.

The scenery along the way kept changing—from the bright, densely packed skyscr4p3rs to the mismatched, peeling residential buildings.

The air on the street was not only filled with the stench of rancid gutter oil, but also the smell of rotting food, as if it was seeping out of long-neglected sewage pipes.

The scooter stopped.

“Tomorrow at noon, don’t be late ah. I’ll send the address to your WeChat in a bit. Make sure to wear a tank top to give that tattoo on your chest a half-revealed, mysterious look,” Qiangzi turned around and said.

Zhong Weishi stared blankly at the dilapidated entrance of the apartment building, lost in thought.

It wasn’t until Qiangzi nudged his arm that he snapped out of it, letting out an unintelligible “Ah” “What?”

Qiangzi repeated himself and casually sent the address to his WeChat.

Building 13, Room 701, Qingfeng Garden.

Zhong Weishi stared at the address on his phone and slowly stepped onto the concrete staircase in the hallway.

The apartment building he lived in had eight floors but no elevator. The entire structure was designed in a concave shape, with each floor housing about ten families. Some of the residents were elderly people who had lived there for decades, but most, like him, who have no one to depend on and can’t afford to buy a house.

This was the oldest, most rundown apartment complex in all of Yucheng—no exceptions.

In the dim, narrow hallway, the only sound was the echo of his footsteps.

The voice-activated lights in the corridor had been broken for months, and no one had come to fix them.

There was no property management here.

Neighbors didn’t know each other, and most followed the “mind your own business” mentality. No one was willing to pay to fix the lights.

Naturally, he was no exception.

No money.

He counted the cash in his wallet. If he paid the rent this month, he would be left with 1,200 yuan. Subtracting the necessary expenses, it would barely last him until the end of the month.

The main reason he was so strapped for cash was that his former roommate had moved out after switching jobs, and no new tenant had been found yet. So, now he had to pay double the rent every month.

In his pinned WeChat group, “Dream Chasers,” there were dozens of unread messages.

The group chat consisted of over 20 extras, just like him, who hustled for roles at the film and television city. Whenever a crew needed extras, they’d notify each other in the group as soon as possible.

He had joined the group three years ago, back when there were more than 50 members, men and women, both young and old.

They often stuck together for mutual support.

A few lucky ones had managed to break into the 18th-tier of celebrity status and quit the group, but most were eliminated by the harsh realities of life, returning home to “inherit the family business” as nobodies.

Today, the group was once again full of complaints. The reason: the crew of “Distant Cousin Comes to the City” had promised 200 yuan a day, but in the end, they only paid 150, claiming the rest went towards meal expenses.

[Nan Nan]: A box of white rice with two veggie sides—pigs wouldn’t even eat that. So fvcking disgusting.

[Sun Xiaozhou]: I’m never going to that crew again. They’re so stingy, and the director’s demands are ridiculous. He actually said my performance when ‘rising from the dead’ lacked realism. How the hell would I know what that looks like? I’ve never seen someone come back from the dead!

A string of “hahahaha” followed in response.

Zhong Weishi smiled but didn’t reply.

The main reason he had joined this group in the first place was just to catch some leftovers. He never really formed close connections with anyone in it.

Still, he hoped the group remained lively; at the very least, it gave him a sense of direction for the future.

Look—

There were a whole bunch of people, just like him, who were trying to strive toward the same goal.

It wasn’t a lonely path, and there were already people who had succeeded.

No matter how many failed attempts he’d faced, life was still full of hope ah…

By ten o’clock, the night had wrapped the city in an impenetrable darkness, yet the noise outside the apartment building persisted.

Zhong Weishi stood in the cramped bathroom, taking a shower. Through the window, he could see the rows of late night snack stalls across the street.

Stir-fried noodles, fried rice, stir-fried flat noodles, jianbing, roast duck, oden… Each stall had a warm yellow light hanging from the top.

From afar, they looked like scattered stars blending into the night.

He had been here for four years and had grown accustomed to the unchanging night scenes and streets.

Bustling… yet lonely.

He wasn’t the only lonely person.

Before going to bed, he stared at the peeling wallpaper and prayed that tomorrow’s debt collection would go smoothly.

The result was a nightmare.

When he woke up, he vaguely remembered the last scene from his dream.

A muscular bald thug roared, “Come on men ah, get them!” Ten thugs in floral shirts stood in a line, all of them holding weapons in their arms. They charged at them to hack them furiously, Qiangzi had his arm chopped off and died on the spot.

Just as the barrel of a gun was pointed at him, he jolted awake.

Before brushing his teeth, he rushed across the street to the pancake stall and shouted, “Aunt Song, one jianbing!”

“Ai~ Ok~”

This place looked completely different during the day and night.

The street seemed a bit deserted.

By around eight o’clock, the city enforcements would start patrolling, shutting down any stalls they saw. It would cost several hundred yuan in fines to get their carts back, so everyone usually packed up before the enforcement showed up.

At 7:30, Auntie Song’s cart was the only one left on the street.

He had heard people say that Auntie Song’s husband was a gambling addict who squandered all their savings before running off, leaving her with two children. She rented a place nearby.

Every night, Auntie Song set up her stall at 6 PM. After the late-night rush, she’d go back to prepare for the next day, barely getting any sleep. By 4 AM, she was back at it again, working until 8 in the morning.

Day after day, year after year, all for one purpose—so her two sons could go to school.

Some people’s lives seem to end before they’ve even truly begun.

Compared to that, Zhong Weishi felt somewhat lucky.

He was free.

At least he still had dreams to chase

After wrapping up a morning of acting work, Zhong Weishi changed out of the yellowish-brown Japanese soldier uniform and caught a ride to the southern district.

While waiting at the bus stop, he quickly devoured the cheap boxed lunch he had taken from the set.

The granny waiting for the bus beside him couldn’t help but advise, “Young man ah, eating like that isn’t good for digestion. You’ll hurt your stomach.”

Zhong Weishi threw the empty box away, scratched his head, and mumbled, “I’m used to it.”

As soon as he boarded the bus, his phone in his pocket started vibrating.

He saw that Qiangzi had ceremoniously changed the group name from “The Tall, Poor, and Handsome Guys of Xicheng District” to “Xicheng District’s Express Debt Collection Team.”

[Huangfu]: Ge, where are you? We’re already in position!

Attached to the message was a selfie of Qiangzi, Da Fei, and A’Wei, the three of them lined up in front of Room 701. All three pointed dramatically at the room number with exaggerated expressions, looking like they had just escaped from a mental institution.

Zhong Weishi scrolled up through the chat history.

[Huangfu]: Later, we need to shout with authority—Er’Gou! You’re surrounded! Hand over 100,000 yuan and we’ll spare your life!

[Da Fei]: When the time comes, he’ll definitely be so scared he’ll pee his pants, hahaha.

“…”

[Weishi]: Is anyone home?

[Da Fei]: Seems like there is, but maybe there isn’t.

[Weishi]: …So, is there or not?

[Wei Ge]: We haven’t knocked on the door yet.

[Weishi]: So what the hell are you guys even doing?

[Huangfu]: We’re waiting for you ah!!! Without you! We’re like moths in the night, with no flame to fly towards. We’re like camels wandering the lonely desert, without a source of water. We’re like the Earth without Einstein, deprived of its source of light.

[Da Fei]: Wait, I seem to remember that it was Edison who invented the lightbulb, right?

[Wei Ge]: Then what did that guy in the wheelchair, Hawking, invent?

[Huangfu]: He wrote a bunch of essays that we were required to memorize. I hated him when I was in school.

[Wei Ge]: Ah, I remember! He wrote that essay, “The Light”, right?

This conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

Zhong Weishi resisted the urge to change the group name to “My Pig-like Teammates”¹Means useless teammates. and quit the group altogether. Instead, he searched for Qingfeng Garden’s exact location on the map.

Fortunately. there was a bus stop right outside the complex.

It was definitely different in rich neighborhoods. In his slum, there weren’t even bus stops. Every time he went out to catch a bus, he felt like a stupid kid from the mountains hiking over hills just to get to school.

When he got home at night, the first thing he always had to do was pick the blisters on his feet in the dim light.

Unfortunately, when he arrived at the entrance of Qingfeng Garden, he realized that being close to the stop didn’t help.

For someone with no sense of direction, stepping into the complex was like walking into a moving maze—every path seemed like one he had just taken.

Zhong Weishi dialed Qiangzi’s number for the third time. “I’m standing under a big tree right now. Where the hell are you people ah?!”

“What a coincidence! I’m also under a big tree!” Qiangzi sounded almost ecstatic. “How come I don’t see you ah!”

Zhong Weishi replied, “Take a good look at the tree near you. Does it have any distinctive features? I’ll try to figure out if I passed by it earlier.”

Qiangzi tilted his head back and observed. “fvck! I just realized there’s a bird’s nest up here! I wonder if there are any eggs I can fish out. If there are, we could add them to our dinner tonight!”

Unmoved by the temptation, Zhong Weishi clenched his teeth and reminded him, “Qiangzi, we need to focus on the bigger picture right now. Let’s leave the trivial bird eggs for later. Describe any other features of the tree, or maybe just tell me its species.”

After a moment of thought, Qiangzi responded, “I’ve also noticed this tree is balder than the others around it.”

Zhong Weishi: “…”

“I know it’s Building 13. It’s not like I’ve never been here before…”

That comment suddenly drifted past Zhong Weishi’s ear. His legs froze in place, and he turned his head discreetly, catching sight of a man’s back.

The man wore a white shirt and neatly pressed slacks, his tall, lean frame accentuated by the tailored fit. A fine leather belt outlined his slim waist.

Both sleeves were rolled up slightly, exposing his sharp wrist bones and a watch.

Having spent years working with artists on set, Zhong Weishi had some knowledge of luxury watches. One glance at the design of the watch face, and he could tell it was something expensive.

With the blazing sun at his head, the material of the shirt became slightly translucent which revealed faint outlines of the man’s hidden arm muscles.

“I’m not retarded. How could I possibly get lost?”

“…”

If it wasn’t for the fact that the other party was holding a phone in his hand, Zhong Weishi would have thought that he was being insulted.

“Are we getting food? I haven’t eaten yet,” The man said in a deep, pleasant voice.

Zhong Weishi quickly wrapped up his conversation with Qiangzi on the phone and then calmly followed the man.

The man looked back after turning into Building 13.

Their eyes met unexpectedly.

In that brief moment, a line from the female lead’s dialogue earlier that day drifted through Zhong Weishi’s mind: That gentleman is so handsome, just one glance is enough to make your heart race.

For the first time, Zhong Weishi realized that the phrase “sword-like brows and starry eyes” could apply to someone other than a novel’s male lead.

The man was about the same height as Zhong Weishi, with neatly combed short hair that added just a slight edge to his height. He exuded a clean, crisp aura, and his deep-set eyes had a sharp intensity to them.

He appeared to be in his early thirties, radiating a strong presence.

Zhong Weishi watched as the man lifted a finger to press a button.

The door opened.

They entered the elevator, one after the other.

The man’s lips moved, “Which floor?”

Zhong Weishi looked at him, “7th floor.”

The man pressed “7” and made no further movements.

Such a coincidence?

Zhong Weishi stole a sideways glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

The man had his head lowered, one hand in his pocket, while his right hand tapped away at his phone screen.

It wasn’t Weibo, WeChat, or a game…

Rather, it was the news app.

Definitely an old man ah, Zhong Weishi thought to himself.

“Ding—” As soon as the elevator sounded, the man locked his phone and turned to the right.

In Qingfeng Garden, each floor had two households, with their doors facing each other, separated by only a narrow hallway and the elevator.

Zhong Weishi looked at the man’s back, noticing that Da Fei and A’Wei, who had just been discussing great world figures in the group chat, were now squatting by the door of Unit 701, staring at him.

Zhong Weishi gestured silently, pointing at the man’s back, mouthing, “Is it him?”

Da Fei, being the brainless one that he was, stood up, looking directly at Zhong Weishi, and practically walked over, saying, “Ge, what did you say? I can’t hear you.”

Zhong Weishi wanted to kill him on the spot.

Before anything else could happen, A’Wei stepped forward, grabbing the man’s wrist just as he was about to knock on the door. His face twisted into a fierce expression. “Er’Gou, I’ve been waiting here for you for ages.”

The man frowned, looking bewildered as he tried to pull his arm back, only to realize that A’Wei’s grip was unrelenting. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

“Hmph, hmph…” A’Wei, feeling an unprecedented boost to his IQ, saw through what he believed to be the enemy’s trick. Tightening his grip, he sneered, “You think I’m that easy to fool? I’d recognize you even if you turned to dust.”

Zhong Weishi was surprised. How could such a well-dressed man, who looked so distinguished, have fallen to the point of becoming a plaything for rich women? At the same time, he had to admire A’Wei’s exceptional on-the-spot reaction and improvisational dialogue skills.

A true fan of revenge dramas.

He couldn’t believe that this was the same person as the retard who had been talking about whether Hawking had written essays a few minutes earlier in the group chat.

Zhong Weishi felt a lot of emotions inside. A perfectly good man, why not live a proper life? It wasn’t like he hadn’t been given a chance.

Was this a distortion of human nature or a degeneration of morality?

Without missing a beat, Zhong Weishi stepped forward, shoving the man against the door and pinning him firmly. Channeling Qiangzi, who wasn’t present, he shouted the rallying cry of the Xicheng Debt Collection Team: “Er’Gou! You’re surrounded!”

“You have arrived at your destination. The target is on the left side of the road. Thank you for using XX Navigation.”

The mechanical female voice in the phone ended abruptly. Zhong Weishi stood on the wide overpass, looking completely bewildered.

In front of him were two escalators that had stopped running. To his left was the path he had just come up, and to his right and behind him were stairs leading both up and down.

He turned around and counted: there were a total of seven different paths branching out, extending in various directions across the road.

Was this a fvcking overpass or an octopus?

Who the hell designed this road?

Is this what people do?

At this moment, it was the rush hour, and a massive crowd surged onto the overpass like a swarm of zombies,clamouring loudly and incessantly moving.

Below him was a constant stream of traffic.

Based on the sweet navigation prompt, his options were either to retrace his steps or jump off the overpass.

It really killed a directionally challenged like him.

Zhong Weishi opened the walking navigation again, but a small line of text popped up when he searched for his destination: You are too close to the destination to use navigation oh~

… fvck.

Suppressing his frustration, Zhong Weishi closed the app and dialed Qiangzi’s number.

Qiangzi’s full name was Huangfu Qiang. He had a surname straight out of a Mary Sue romance drama, but was stuck with a first name that was only slightly better than Tiezhu, truly embodying the phrase, “wasting a good hand of cards.” ¹The humor lies in the contrast between the grand, aristocratic surname “皇甫” (Huangfu) and the simple given name “强” (Qiang). The name “强” is slightly better than “铁柱” (Tiezhu, meaning “Iron Pillar”), which is used as a humorous example of a basic, unsophisticated name. This mismatch suggests that despite having a prestigious surname, the ordinary first name makes it feel like he’s wasting a good opportunity, like playing a great hand of cards poorly.

Qiangzi quickly picked up: “Ge, when are you getting here? We’re just waiting for you.”

His voice was raspy and slurred, a clear sign that he was smoking.

“I fvcking…” Zhong Weishi was too embarrassed to admit that he’d been wandering back and forth on the overpass for nearly half an hour and still hadn’t found the place. “My phone’s about to die. Come out and pick me up. I’m on an overpass that looks like an octopus.”

“Oh, just take the western path down about ten meters and you’ll be there. The shop has a small entrance. I’ll be at the door waiting for you,” Qiangzi said with a cigarette in his mouth as he leisurely headed downstairs.

West side.

If he knew where the west side was, would he have wasted his phone bill?

Zhong Weishi stood in the middle of the overpass, spinning in a circle in every direction. He didn’t spot any tattoo shops, but he did see a women’s lingerie store. The floor-to-ceiling windows were spotless, and a row of female mannequins stood at the entrance, striking seductive poses with bizarre makeup.

“I see a lingerie store, something like My Eternal Love Lolita,” Zhong Weishi said with wrinkled brows.

“What?” Qiangzi was just as confused and emphasized loudly, “The west side ah. Walk a few steps west, and you’ll find it.”

What a dog day.²It’s like saying “Seriously, this is all messed up.”

Zhong Weishi raised his voice. “I’m not a fvcking compass! How would I know where west is?!”

Huangfu Qiang never expected his Shi-ge to have such a unique level of IQ. It proved that the universe was fair—good-looking people often only had their looks going for them.

But fearing for his life, Qiangzi only dared to remind him gently, “Just look up and face the direction of the sun, and then…”

Before he could finish, the call ended abruptly with a curt “Oh.”

As Zhong Weishi retraced his steps, he cursed under his breath. Who knew he’d circled this place four or five times already and still hadn’t found that “best tattoo shop on the whole street, where people travel dozens of kilometers just to get inked” that Qiangzi had talked about.

He thought to himself, for such a renowned shop, it ought to be at least a bit bigger than a public restroom, right? But all he could see around him were small eateries and milk tea shops.

“Hey! Ge!” Qiangzi waved at him next to an electric scooter. “Over here!”

Zhong Weishi turned around, walked over, and glanced at the sign: Paris Glamour Boutique Menswear.

Inside the transparent display windows were summer collections of men’s t-shirts, pants, and… various knock-off CK underwear.

The male mannequin near the entrance was wearing cartoon underwear with a SpongeBob SquarePants pattern.

Sexy was an understatement.

At the mannequin’s feet, Zhong Weishi spotted a small black sign, roughly the size of a palm. There was crooked handwriting on it: Tattoos, eyebrow tattoos, ear cleaning, haircuts, and manicures on the 2nd floor.

… The range of business was quite comprehensive.

“Did you get yours done?” Zhong Weishi looked him up and down, noticing no change on his arms.

“Not yet. Waiting for you to do together.” Huangfu Qiang hooked an arm around his neck, leading him inside. “I just picked out a design with a lot of artistic flair. A blood-red rose. The boss says he can make it 3D.”

“What the hell?” Zhong Weishi was somewhat speechless. “Why don’t you just go all out and get it in 5D? That’d be more exciting.”

Just last night, Huangfu Qiang had suddenly called, saying he received a private job. The client was from a promising company with a clear business direction, and the job was supposedly simple. By the end of the conversation, it turned out they wanted him to collect debts.

“We’re a legitimate debt collection service, nationwide. No success, no charge. Absolute integrity.” Qiangzi had passionately declared over the phone.

“Not going!” Zhong Weishi refused without hesitation.

“Come on ah! How could we do this without you taking the lead! Out of all of us, you’re the only one who’s played a thug! You play your roles so convincingly. We need to learn from you!” Qiangzi was practically shouting with enthusiasm.

“…”

Zhong Weishi, a long-time stand-in actor on the edge of the entertainment industry, had played everything from eunuchs and palace maids to guards, corpses, thugs, and perverts—none of which lasted more than ten seconds on screen.

But anyhow, it’s also considered to have a colorful acting experience.

Playing a street thug? Not a problem at all.

But was he really the kind of guy to be motivated by money?

Debt collection was something he had only ever seen on TV.

Getting caught would mean… not getting beheaded, but definitely being dragged to the police station for questioning.

His acting career couldn’t afford such a stain!

“You can get a 3,000-yuan commission per job. I’ll split it with you half and half.”

“Deal! It’s settled, then.”

There was no crown on his head, so why should he be afraid to bow down?

Before this, Qiangzi had worked as an internet café network administrator and had never been involved in such a magically twisted side gig.

In his understanding, debt collection was all about scaring people and strength in numbers, so he roped in Zhong Weishi and a few brothers to boost morale.

The first step to playing the part of a thug, of course, was to smoke, get a perm, and get a tattoo.

Though the shop had a small entrance, it was surprisingly spacious inside. The decor was simple but stylish, exuding understated luxury. The cashier’s counter was a large solid-wood desk, and the middle-aged owner sat with his legs crossed, watching a movie. The table was equipped with an entire tea set, and a spiral redwood staircase led to the second floor.

When someone walked in, the owner reflexively looked up.

He froze for a moment.

The young man standing at the entrance was around 24 or 25, and the first impression he gave off was simply stunning.

His skin, contrasted with the person next to him, looked especially fair. His facial features were sharply defined, with soft bangs partially covering his brows and a pair of classic standard peach blossom eyes.

Normally, a face like his with those eyes should be charming and approachable. However, his slightly raised brows gave him an air of cool indifference and casual aloofness.

Even in a simple hoodie and sweatpants, his tall and lean figure was impossible to hide.

“Xiao Qiang, is this your friend ah?” The owner, who knew Huangfu Qiang, casually asked.

“Yeah, I came with him to get a tattoo.” Qiangzi grinned.

“What do you want to get?” The boss looked at Zhong Weishi, sensing that he had more guts than Huangfu Qiang. He introduced with great interest, “We have tattoo artists here who graduated from design academies. Besides the usual stuff like the Azure Dragon and White Tiger, we can design a one-of-a-kind, full-body piece for you. The latest trend is 3D mechanical tattoos—vibrant colors, with a striking, three-dimensional effect…”

The boss lifted his t-shirt to reveal his own tattoo, proudly showing it off. “How about this? Pretty visually impactful, right?”

Zhong Weishi suddenly narrowed his eyes.

—On the man’s pale belly was a large peony, symbolizing wealth and prosperity, with a peac0ck spreading its feathers across his waist.

It was definitely a strong impact.

The design was incredibly lifelike, almost identical to the “Peony of Wealth” cross-stitch hanging on display at the embroidery shop downstairs from his apartment!

Meeting the boss’s eager and expectant gaze, Zhong Weishi coldly and decisively asked, “Do you have any temporary tattoo stickers?”

Boss: “…”

Qiangzi: “…”

“Just pick a design yourself,” The boss said, pulling out a thick stack of temporary tattoo stickers from behind the counter.

Right on top was a pink Peppa Pig sticker in various poses and styles, which seemed to be quite trendy these days.

One of them even had wings and a fairy wand, looking oddly cute.

Seeing how his friend’s gaze lingered affectionately on the pigs, Qiangzi quickly pulled him aside. “I already said I’m treating you ah! Don’t worry about the money! How are you going to intimidate people when we go to collect debts later? How are you going to scare people with four or five blow dryers? Or… are you afraid of the pain?”

Zhong Weishi wanted to ask what exactly made his garish blood-red rose any better than a few pigs ah. Honestly, the whole thing was just ridiculous.

But Zhong Weishi couldn’t be bothered to dampen his enthusiasm. After all, Qiangzi had been talking about getting a full-sleeve tattoo since childhood, and it had taken him years to finally muster up the courage.

“I really don’t want a tattoo.” Zhong Weishi said seriously.

He wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t about to mess around with Qiangzi over some sketchy side gig. Forget the 3D peonies and roses—even if it were mythical creatures like qilins or phoenixes, he had no interest.

He didn’t want to cover his body with those kinds of random things.

His body wasn’t just his alone.

Huangfu Qiang stared at him for a moment, then seemed to understand. “Alright, then just get a sticker. Pick whichever design you like, I’ll buy it for you.”

Casually, Qiangzi slipped away the Peppa Pig family pack from the top of the pile. He didn’t want his friend to become the city’s most handsome lunatic.

In the end, Zhong Weishi picked one of the Four Evil Creatures from ancient mythology: Qiongqi.

It had the head of a tiger and the body of a lion, with sharp claws and teeth, paired with wings. Its savage maw was open wide, and its entire body seemed engulfed in a sinister flame. The design stretched from his chest all the way to his arm.

It actually looked pretty cool. Combined with Zhong Weishi’s natural roguish air, it made him look every bit the part of a thug—just as long as you don’t look closer.

“Is this thing waterproof?” Zhong Weishi touched the tail of the Qiongqi tattoo on his arm. His hand came away clean, without any smudges.

Magical.

“As long as you don’t scrub it too hard, it’ll last about ten days,” The boss said.

Ten days should be enough.

It’s just a debt collection job. If they can’t do it, they could just raid the person’s house.

Not paying back what you owe? It’s against him.

“Oh, by the way,” Zhong Weishi said, pulling on his hoodie, “What’s the deal with the guy who owes the money ah? Have you done your research and visited him over the past few days?”

As a seasoned Internet café network administrator, Huangfu Qiang had a wide circle of friends across various fields. He quickly received 999+ tidbits of information when he asked in his gaming group.

“Er’Gou, full name Zhang Gou, in his late 30s. He roams all over Yucheng. Apparently, he puts on airs, looks pretty decent, and has been seeing a divorced woman named Li Yuqin. She lives in the Qingfeng Garden over in the southern district, and Er’Gou visits her often.”

Qingfeng Garden was an older complex near the city center. Over the past decade, property prices have skyrocketed; a unit of about a hundred square meters could cost around three million.

Most of the residents there were rich people.

“Does that woman have any family? Should we just wait for her at her house to block her?” Zhong Weishi thought that seemed a bit inappropriate.

“Yeah, I heard she got divorced a long time ago and lives alone. If worse comes to worst, we can just ask her directly for the money. After all, she’s the one supporting that gigolo,” Huangfu Qiang replied.

“…” So to deal with one woman, he was turning himself into the most eye-catching lunatic on the whole street.

Zhong Weishi was genuinely worried about his bro’s intelligence.

By the time Huangfu Qiang finished with that flashy 3D blood-red rose, it was already past eight in the evening.

They hadn’t even gotten the money yet, and Qiangzi had already overspent by fifteen hundred.

Zhong Weishi felt a pang of sympathy. He hadn’t expected that temporary tattoo sticker would cost a hundred!

But Qiangzi was unfazed. “Ge, look at it this way: this thing lasts for ten days, so it’s just ten yuan a day. Just skip a pack of cigarettes, and you’re good.”

“Forget it.” Zhong Weishi decided to let it go. “It’s not my money anyway.”

Qiangzi: “…”

As they bid farewell to the tattoo shop owner, he reminded them, “When you shower, don’t scrub too hard. What comes off isn’t dirt; it’s money.”

“…Got it,” Zhong Weishi replied.

The tattoo artist handed him a business card. “Welcome to come by often! I think your back would be perfect for a tattoo of the Mona Lisa’s smile. I designed it myself; it’s different from Da Vinci’s but it’s equally satisfactory.”

Zhong Weishi wanted to retort, Why don’t you just fvcking say Along the River During the Qingming Festival,³Handscroll painting by the Song dynasty painter Zhang Zeduan. wouldn’t you make more money?

But Qiangzi beat him to it. “Definitely, definitely! I’ll come by at the end of the year when I get my bonus.”

“…” A broken Internet cafe actually has a bonus?

After being distracted for a couple of seconds, Zhong Weishi realized that his focus seemed to be off.

Huangfu Qiang also handed a business card to the tattoo artist.

With a white background and bold red letters, it was eye-catching.

Xicheng Express Debt Collection Team: Construction payments, triangular debts, extramarital affair investigation collection, legal debt collection, nationwide service, no success, no fee. Welcome to call: xxx. Project Manager: Huangfu Phantom.

“Feel free to contact me. We also offer small loans—just provide a photo of your ID or a copy of your household registration. No collateral needed…” Qiangzi began to promote his new business.

Sitting on Qiangzi’s electric scooter, Zhong Weishi held his new business card between his fingers, feeling a mix of emotions. “What the hell is this Phantom? Is that the second child of your Huangfu family that accidentally strayed away back then?”

“My stage name. Doesn’t it sound more mysterious?” Qiangzi chuckled as he snatched the card from Zhong Weishi’s hand.

After dinner at a roadside stall, Qiangzi began to fret about his image again. “Ge, now that I’m getting a tattoo, should I also dye my hair? I’m thinking that trendy cool purple, with a layer of stylish gray on top. I’ve seen a bunch of students at the internet café with that color—it really suits their skin tone and makes them look lively…”

Zhong Weishi couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s because those people have fair skin that complements the color. You have an unmistakable Mongoloid race complexion. What’s the difference between making it like that and putting a potted flower on a shit?”

“…” Qiangzi endured the humiliation and quietly added a bowl of beef rice to his order. “He’ll pay later.”

---

Author’s Note:

This is a lighthearted and sweet story. The main character will appear in the next chapter. Additionally, the work was completed in 2019 and has many shortcomings; I hope for your understanding.