Chapter 32 – The Many Faces of the Gay Community

The next day, Chu Yin truly witnessed just how extensive and eclectic Wei Lai’s social circle was.

Wei Lai took Chu Yin to the third floor of Zero and said, “Let’s get your hair done while we wait. What would you like to drink?”

Chu Yin exclaimed in surprise, “You own this place?”

Wei Lai replied, “Why do you sound as shocked as if I just told you I run a brothel? This is a legitimate salon.”

Chu Yin retorted, “Nothing about this seems legitimate!”

And he wasn’t wrong. The third floor was anything but proper—evident from the large, provocative posters of male models lining the hallway, oozing flamboyant energy.

When Wei Lai first opened this place, he simply wanted a safe space for pure bottoms to gather—a tea salon where 0s from all over could come for skincare and hairstyling, like little demons nesting in a spider’s web, discussing where to find the best 1s. If they were lucky, they might even share resources. Unfortunately, as Wei Lai got busier, he never got to enjoy any of the 1s himself—Yan Yunshui ended up reaping all the benefits.

As soon as Chu Yin reached the top of the stairs, he was warmly greeted by a group of stylists.

A stylist with hair resembling a flamingo chirped, “Boss, you’re here! Is this Teacher Chu? Wow, he’s even taller and more handsome in person than on TV!”

Chu Yin: “…”

Naturally intimidated by overly enthusiastic people, Chu Yin’s social anxiety flared up instantly. With a stiff expression, he silently retreated behind Wei Lai, looking aloof and unapproachable.

Determined to help Chu Yin improve his social skills, Wei Lai deftly sidestepped and pushed him forward. “BoBo, take Teacher Chu to get his hair washed.”

Chu Yin: “…”

With a reluctant glance at Wei Lai—who remained unmoved—Chu Yin pitifully followed BoBo.

Half an hour later, when Chu Yin returned after his hair wash, the world outside had changed.

A group of five or six men surrounded Wei Lai, sitting on red leather sofas arranged around a circular table. Their colorful hairstyles clustered together, and the atmosphere was strangely tense—no one spoke a word.

It felt like the brothel was about to go bankrupt tomorrow.

Spotting Chu Yin, Wei Lai waved him over. “Chu Yin, come here.”

Chu Yin sat close to Wei Lai, totally confused about what was happening.

Wei Lai said, “We’re waiting for Yun Yun. Let me introduce you first.”

He pointed at a dark-skinned, muscular man with dyed blond hair. “This is the famous drag queen streamer, Booty-san Xixi Guodongshuang. You can call him Booty-san.”

Booty-san was a crossdresser who loved wearing women’s clothing. Draped in a snow-white fur coat, he wore a low-cut red dress underneath that showcased his bulging pectoral muscles. His thick thighs were wrapped in black lace stockings, and his stiletto heels were so thin and high it was a wonder he could walk in them.

Chu Yin: “…Hello.”

Booty-san puckered his bright red lips and winked at Chu Yin, his deep, masculine voice dripping with sweetness. “Hello, sweetheart~”

Chu Yin instinctively inched even closer to Wei Lai.

Booty-san licked his lips. “Why are you hiding? Big sis won’t eat you.”

“Knock it off, you horny bitch. Can’t keep it in your pants when you see a handsome guy,” a strikingly beautiful man beside him snapped coldly.

Chu Yin was surprised—his voice sounded distinctly feminine, rich and steady, with a unique timbre that suggested he must be an incredible singer.

Wei Lai introduced, “This one is sort of in the same industry as you—she runs a Sichuan opera teahouse. I met her while playing mahjong. You can call her Boss Lian.”

Boss Lian nodded politely at Chu Yin. “I really like your songs.”

Booty-san wriggled in protest. “Liar! You’ve never listened to them. You’re just into his face! Wait—you don’t even like men, so have you actually heard his songs?”

Boss Lian: “Shut up.”

Boss Lian wasn’t one to meddle in others’ affairs, but the Ren Zha scandal had rocked the entire LGBTQ+ community. Though everyone had their wild moments, one unspoken rule was clear: don’t mess with straight people. Ren Zha had crossed that line, earning widespread condemnation. Boss Lian, a lesbian with mysterious connections—rumored to have influence in both legal and underground circles—had come from afar as a representative. When she wasn’t singing opera, she was allegedly burying bodies.

Before this, Wei Lai had been the most unconventional person Chu Yin had ever met. But Booty-san and Boss Lian broadened his horizons even further. They were the kind of “freaks” others couldn’t understand, yet they were oddly endearing to be around.

Soon after, Yan Yunshui finished brewing tea, and with everyone present, they got down to business.

Yan Yunshui said, “Gay men who deceive women into marriage can only be dealt with through divorce proceedings. Without solid evidence, Ren Zha won’t even have to pay compensation.”

Booty-san huffed, “If it were up to me, I’d expose him—dig up every last detail of his life. He thinks emotional abuse is bad? Let him experience the full force of online harassment!”

Wei Lai frowned. “But public attention has its limits. Besides, what if the Ren family just stops going online?” He glanced at Chu Yin, who had suffered greatly from online trolls. As a victim of cyberbullying, it wouldn’t sit right to turn around and use the same weapon against someone he hated.

Boss Lian studied her nails dispassionately. “Might as well just kill him.”

Her expression was dead serious, chilling the air for a moment. Yan Yunshui coughed. “Everyone here is a proud successor of socialism. Let’s stay calm.”

Booty-san raised an eyebrow. “Calm? This bitch wants to crush his balls right now!”

Yan Yunshui tossed the hot potato to Wei Lai. “Slutty Wei, you’re the most ruthless. What do you think?”

Wei Lai: “…”

After sipping his tea, Wei Lai said, “First of all, this isn’t just about tearing Ren Zha down for revenge and then moving on. Liang Yating is still alive—her life might still be salvageable. Chu Yin has some ideas. Why don’t you all listen?”

The two once again demonstrated just how low their compatibility could go. Chu Yin had never expected Wei Lai to suddenly call on him to speak. With no thoughts in his head and under immense pressure, he rambled incoherently, making everyone’s expressions grow increasingly strange.

Booty-san: “As expected of someone in the entertainment industry—what kind of dirty thoughts are in that head of yours? Hohohohoho~ This sister approves.”

Boss Lian shrugged. “Fine, let’s go with this. If it doesn’t work out, we can just kill him.”

Yan Yunshui: “Everything my male god says is right!”

Wei Lai, blindly doting, made the final call: “Alright, sisters, let’s do it this way!”

That day, Ren Zha went to work as usual. Just before clocking out, he suddenly received a huge bouquet of red roses with no sender’s name. The card bore a fresh, fiery red lip print and read: To: Mr. Ren. From your sexy little darling.

This continued for several days—every day at 5 PM, a bouquet of roses would arrive. Ren Zha was in a dilemma. If he accepted the roses, it would invite gossip. If he didn’t and left them at the security booth, everyone passing by would ask about them, and soon the whole office would know:

A sexy little darling is aggressively pursuing Ren Zha.

If a woman received roses, it would already be enough to stir up gossip. But for a man—especially one whose wife had just gone insane—to receive roses? It ignited endless speculation.

Ren Zha grew increasingly stressed, suspecting that someone from Liang Yating’s family was targeting him, but he had no way to prove it.

After a full week of suspense—with people’s curiosity thoroughly piqued and Ren Zha growing more and more tense—Friday arrived with no roses. Instead, parked right at the entrance was a blindingly pink Maserati.

Just as Ren Zha drove out of the garage, the Maserati suddenly roared to life, swerving recklessly to block his car’s path.

Ren Zha slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a collision. He cursed internally but didn’t dare provoke the wealthy owner of the Maserati, too cowardly to even honk.

With Ren Zha’s car blocking the exit, the vehicles behind began honking impatiently. Gritting his teeth, Ren Zha got out and knocked on the Maserati’s window. The tinted glass made it impossible to see inside, but once enough onlookers had gathered, the car door finally swung open—revealing a black-stockinged leg stretching out seductively. As the person stepped out, their knees rubbed together coquettishly, exuding endless charm.

The next second, the muscle-bound bishōnen Booty-san wiggled his way out of the car and, in front of the entire crowd, began pummeling Ren Zha’s chest with tiny fist hits.

“Hmph! You big meanie, ignoring me for so many days!!!”

That “hmph” was earth-shaking and invigorating—enough to make the Liangshan heroes rise from their graves, weeping as they swore brotherhood with Booty-san.

Ren Zha was dumbstruck.

“Ugh! You little scoundrel!” Booty-san grew even more excited. “Making me come all the way here to coax you! Take this!”

Booty-san proceeded to hammer Ren Zha relentlessly, each punch landing with a heavy thud. Ren Zha nearly coughed up blood, his eyes bulging as he roared, “Who the hell are you?! Are you insane?!”

Standing nearly two meters tall in high heels, Booty-san lifted Ren Zha off the ground and shook him violently. “I’m your sexy little darling! How dare you act like you don’t know me now that your pants are on?!”