Chapter 31 – A Gay Dog Ascends to Heaven

The three of them sat around eating a spicy fish hotpot, while Yan Yunshui slammed the table indignantly between bites.

“After studying dialectics for so many years, I ended up being used as someone else’s weapon this time. How am I any different from the brainless keyboard warriors I despise? Ahhh, this is so frustrating! How did things turn out like this?!”

Chu Yin said, “…So, how exactly did things turn out?”

Wei Lai wiped his mouth and said, “It’s like this.”

Rewinding a few hours earlier—after Ren Zha threw his phone and fled, Wang Mengmeng fainted on the street. The bewildered do-gooders, Yan Yunshui and Wei Lai, carried her to the emergency room, one holding her arms and the other her legs.

At the hospital, Wang Mengmeng told them another version of the story.

Both versions shared the same female protagonist: a woman named Liang Yating. There are countless women named Yating across the country, and she had once believed her life would be like that of most ordinary girls—study, find a job, get married, have children. There would be bumps along the way, but also sunshine and rainbows, and in the end, she’d live out her days peacefully, just like all the other “Yatings.”

In the first version Wei Lai had heard, Liang Yating was ugly, fat, selfish, and tyrannical, obsessively infatuated with Ren Zha to the point of madness. She allegedly blackmailed him into marriage by threatening to expose his homosexuality, then cheated on him with another man, and when caught, she shamefully attempted suicide.

But in Wang Mengmeng’s version, Liang Yating was a kind and lovely girl—fair-skinned with a hint of baby fat, gentle and introverted. She would fuss about losing weight but also hide snacks like a little squirrel. She loved shopping and was a devoted fan of many celebrities, though never the fickle type.

Liang Yating and Ren Zha had met through a blind date. At their first meeting, she had a good impression of him—well-dressed, attentive, and gentle, with no shortage of topics to discuss, from economics and politics to TV dramas and cosmetics.

As their relationship grew closer, they became an official couple. However, Ren Zha’s attitude toward Liang Yating became increasingly odd.

He wouldn’t reply to her WeChat messages in a timely mannar, sometimes taking a day or two to respond with just a “Got it,” “Okay,” or “Take care.” Their workplaces were quite far apart, and when Liang Yating asked him out on weekends, Ren Zha would only agree once out of three attempts, claiming he was too busy with work. Through subtle probing, she learned that Ren Zha’s parents disliked her appearance. She tried hard to lose weight and even underwent plastic surgery, but Ren Zha remained aloof.

It seemed he had only loved her very briefly. Tormented, Liang Yating finally broke up with him at Wang Mengmeng’s urging—Ren Zha agreed without hesitation.

Under pressure from her family to marry, Liang Yating started dating a second boyfriend—a man five years her senior who worked in sales. He was genuinely busy, working around the clock, and his only requirement for a wife was that she could bear children. Liang Yating thought she could settle for this—they were well-matched in social status, and she was already at “that age.” The person she married didn’t necessarily have to be someone she loved.

But then, Ren Zha suddenly reached out to her again. He was fervent, claiming he hadn’t realized his true feelings back then, and humbly begged for her forgiveness.

There’s a reason why “chasing your ex into the crematorium” tropes are so popular. The man who once ignored you becomes an obsessive simp overnight—it’s an indescribable kind of satisfaction.

Her current boyfriend paid little attention to Liang Yating, so Ren Zha had no trouble prying her away. After six months of relentless pursuit, Liang Yating broke up with the sales guy.

Ren Zha and Liang Yating got married. He remained as attentive as ever—until she gave birth to a baby boy.

After the boy’s first-month celebration, Ren Zha reverted to his old ways—disappearing for days on end, returning home with a sour face, subtly mocking Liang Yating for her post-pregnancy figure and her once-pristine skin now dull and oily. Though Ren Zha’s parents eagerly helped care for the child, Liang Yating grew increasingly lifeless. In Wang Mengmeng’s words, she developed severe postpartum depression—but no one took it seriously, not even Liang Yating herself.

Liang Yating suspected Ren Zha was cheating multiple times, but whenever she tried to catch him, she only found him in hotel rooms playing games with other men. Until one month ago, when she accidentally discovered half a used condom in Ren Zha’s pocket while he was showering.

Liang Yating finally understood. Her entire world collapsed.

Peeling back the corner of her already joyless marriage revealed a nest of venomous needles.

She was Ren Zha’s “tongqi”¹A wife unknowingly married to a closeted gay man. Ren Zha had never loved her. Dating her initially was just for show. His coldness was because his boyfriend was jealous. Later, he pursued her again because he wanted to leave an heir for the Ren family.

Liang Yating wanted a divorce. Ren Zha agreed readily—even seemed relieved. But Liang Yating felt her entire life had been ruined. She quit her job, got married, and even had a child. If word got out that her husband was gay, her entire family would become the butt of jokes forever. She promised Ren Zha she wouldn’t expose him, but she wanted an apology—an explanation. Why had he done this to her? But Ren Zha fled abroad under the pretense of a business trip.

The divorce dragged on—how to split assets, who would get custody of the child. Since Liang Yating no longer had a job, the child was awarded to Ren Zha. She stormed into Ren Zha’s parents’ home to confront them, screaming like a madwoman, but they coldly dismissed her as a joke, their attitudes completely different from before the marriage.

It was only then that Liang Yating realized—his parents must have known their son was gay all along. They allowed it because they had found a breeding tool in her.

Everyone had lied to her. She even suspected her own parents had known but turned a blind eye to marry off their “leftover” daughter. Why else had they pressured her so urgently?

That night, Liang Yating strangled her one-month-old son to death and slit her wrists in the bathroom. Fortunately, her father happened to visit and rushed her to the hospital in time. Her life was saved—but her soul wasn’t.

Liang Yating lost her mind. Sometimes lucid, sometimes hysterical—either staring blankly while giggling or clutching a pillow and murmuring “I’m sorry, baby” for an entire day.

After finishing the story, Wei Lai summarized, “That’s how things stand for now. I think most of what Wang Mengmeng said is credible, but with scandals, there might still be twists. If it’s true, Liang Yating is a tragic woman—her entire life was ruined. She’s alive, but barely living.”

Yan Yunshui chimed in angrily, “Damn it, this pisses me off! These scumbag gays who trick women into being their tongqi are ruining the reputation of Chengdu’s gay community! I’ve already rounded up a few tough guys—we’re ambushing Ren Zha tomorrow. We’ll make sure he gets fucked.”

Wei Lai coughed and said, “Yun Yun, mind your image as a former educator.”

Yan Yunshui: “Not that kind of fucking’! Wouldn’t that just be doing him a favor?”

Thud!

Chu Yin suddenly put down his chopsticks and muttered, “I’m full.” Then, as if trying to hide something, he quickly retreated to his bedroom and locked the door.

Yan Yunshui froze. “What’s wrong with my male god? Did I say something wrong just now?”

Wei Lai finally snapped out of it and put down his chopsticks, regret dawning on him. “Shit… I didn’t realize… This Ren Zha situation is a bit like Chen Meixian…”

The moment Chen Meixian was mentioned, Wei Lai went on high alert. He grabbed a spare key from the drawer and decisively unlocked Chu Yin’s bedroom door, slipping inside. Yan Yunshui didn’t follow—the highest virtue of a shipper is not being a third wheel. Eavesdropping at the door was enough.

Chu Yin had burrowed under the blankets again, cocooned tightly with only his head poking out.

Wei Lai patted him. “What’s wrong?”

Chu Yin sniffled, tears rolling down his cheeks onto the pillow. “I feel awful.”

Wei Lai handed him a tissue to wipe his tears. “…I tried to tell it in the most lighthearted way possible.”

Chu Yin’s lips trembled, on the verge of bawling. “I… feel even worse now.”

They had filming tomorrow—he couldn’t afford to cry his eyes swollen. Panicking, Wei Lai mustered all his strength to lift Chu Yin into a hug. “Do you want me to rock you? A hundred times… no, a hundred and fifty… two hundred, max. Any more and I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Chu Yin shook his head, choking up. “There was a time… I really wanted to die too.”

Wei Lai’s hand stilled on Chu Yin’s back.

“Just now… when you and Yunshui… were talking while eating. It reminded me of my debut year, when the entire internet hated me. I went out to clear my head and overheard people gossiping under my billboard—’Chu Yin is so pathetic’—while eating and laughing just like that.”

Wei Lai fell silent for a moment. “Do you think I’m heartless?”

Chu Yin shook his head, tiny teardrops clinging to his lashes. “No. I’m sorry. I just remembered myself… I want to cry. I’ll be fine after. I’m sorry for crying again. I’m not manly at all… I only know how to cry…”

Wei Lai: “…”

Wei Lai had never been soft-hearted to begin with, and after years in the industry witnessing all sorts of depravity, his heart had turned to stone with an extra layer of tempered glass. To him, Liang Yating’s story was just gossip—but for Chu Yin, it wasn’t.

Though Chu Yin had no formal acting training, his ability to empathize was a huge part of why his performances were praised. His heart was too soft—he always wished for everyone to be happy. If not for his cold, tough-guy looks, people would’ve dismissed him as a naive fool.

But what’s wrong with kindness? And why apologize for crying? It wasn’t like Chu Yin cried in front of just anyone.

Wei Lai said, “But you’re amazing. Modeling, singing, composing, choreography, variety shows, acting—you can do it all. Tell me, who else your age has achieved so much?”

Chu Yin said hoarsely, “Actually… I wanted to go out and have fun. But if I didn’t study, Chen Meixian would hit me. If I obeyed, he’d reward me—like training a dog. You… you were the first person to take me out to play.”

Wei Lai was baffled. “…Take you out to play what?”

Chu Yin pursed his lips, aggrieved. “Mahjong. You forgot?”

Wei Lai: “…That was just because we were short a player and I grabbed you randomly.”

Only then did Wei Lai realize—he’d been so worried about Chu Yin’s mental state, yet he’d never taken him out to relax. Instead, he’d left Chu Yin alone at home while he went out to get a flashy haircut.

Unlike his indifference to others’ tragedies, anything involving Chu Yin—no matter how small—could make Wei Lai’s chest tighten. He resorted to ruffling Chu Yin’s hair to soothe himself. “You know what I think is most impressive? Despite growing up in such a terrible environment, you became an outstanding idol—no drugs, no gambling, no prostitution, didn’t lose your mind or get crippled, and somehow ended up so damn cute!”

Chu Yin: “Sniff.”

Wei Lai handed him another tissue.

While wiping his nose, Chu Yin reaffirmed in his heart: Madam Wei’s words are the devil’s lies. This is just his manager’s routine motivational speech. But despite himself, the corners of his lips curled up. Pouting, he muttered, “Bullshit. Stop touching my head.”

Wei Lai clicked his tongue. “Yunshui’s still outside. Do you want to go back to eating, or cry some more?”

Wei Lai’s hand remained on Chu Yin’s head—neither withdrawing nor moving away as Chu Yin stayed still beneath it.

Chu Yin asked, “Earlier, you said Liang Yating loved chasing celebrities and had many idols. Was… was I one of them?”

He shifted slightly, nervous that Wei Lai might think he was overstepping. “She’s still alive. That rainy day… if you hadn’t come to save me, I really would’ve… wanted to die. What if… she gets better someday?”

Wei Lai was taken aback. He saw something pure in Chu Yin’s eyes—clear and bright, sometimes making Wei Lai feel like he was looking at a child.

Before, Wei Lai had always believed celebrities were just ordinary people working in a glamorous industry full of cheers and praise—that fans were just obsessed with looks or mindless groupthink. A manager’s job was simply to maximize an artist’s commercial value so everyone could make money. But after meeting Chu Yin, he didn’t think that way anymore.

Chu Yin genuinely worked hard to be a bright star. The fans who loved him must have seen his light in their darkest moments—that’s why they adored him so sincerely.

And him? As Chu Yin’s manager, he was really just protecting the starlight in Chu Yin’s eyes.

Chu Yin lowered his lashes. “I… might be overthinking it.”

“No.” Wei Lai lowered his gaze and gently scratched the little cowlick on Chu Yin’s head. “Do whatever you want. I’ll be with you. It can’t possibly go worse than your kitchen disasters.”

Chu Yin’s scalp tingled from the touch. “I told you to stop touching my head!” he snapped, then ducked back under the blankets with a huff.

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  A wife unknowingly married to a closeted gay man