Chapter 65 – The Foundation of Lust and Ferocity

Wei Lai thought about it and realized it was indeed true. He sighed dramatically and said, “When would I have time to look for one? The cat at home gets fatter and more domineering by the day—can’t leave her alone. Needs petting, needs her litter scooped, needs baths, needs feeding. The moment the master gets in the mood, she drags out the cat teaser, meowing annoyingly for playtime. Tell me, could you refuse the sweet, coquettish demands of a cat master?”

Yan Yunshui: “We get it, you have a cat. Shut up.”

Wei Lai rambled on, “And then there’s big cat Chu Yin. His stomach can’t handle takeout, so I have to make sure he’s fed three meals a day. When he can’t sleep at night, I have to rub his neck for him. He’s too famous—can’t even step outside without drama. Even when he goes to shoot a cover, he clings to me, begging me to tag along. Sigh… so unbelievably troublesome.”

Yan Yunshui: “…Oh.”

Booty-san: “…Oh.”

Wei Lai lamented, “With all these dependents, I literally have no time to embark on the arduous journey of looking for a 1.”

“Bullshit. You’re lowkey flexing while pretending to complain,” Booty-san rolled his eyes. “Slutty Wei, I always thought, given your personality, you’d be the type of slutty 0 who secretly cheats in relationships. I’ve even imagined you pulling off a trifecta of affairs, only to get hacked to death in the streets by some scorned man. But I never expected you’d turn into this domesticated, loving Madam Wei—a reformed whore, babbling nonstop about playing house.”

Yan Yunshui asked, “What about you and Chu Yin?”

Wei Lai: “What about us?”

Yan Yunshui: “Haven’t you two signed a contract yet? Once he finishes all his scheduled gigs, you won’t have anything to do with him. Are you still planning to be his manager?”

Wei Lai’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. “It’s not about whether I want to be his manager or not. I…”

Wei Lai had considered a lot. He had once tentatively asked Chu Yin about his life plans. Initially, Chu Yin had only become a model to earn some extra cash. Later, his debut as a singer was entirely orchestrated by Chen Meixian—so the life Chu Yin was living now wasn’t even his own choice.

“If you weren’t an idol, what did you originally want to do?” Wei Lai had asked him.

Chu Yin replied, “Go out and play. Somewhere with fewer people.”

“And what else?”

Chu Yin frowned, thinking hard for a long time before murmuring, “I kinda… want to go to school.”

Wei Lai had been surprised at the time. “Aren’t you a graduate of XX University? You wanna go for a master’s degree?”

“That was… just something Chen Meixian made up.” Chu Yin looked embarrassed. “I never went to college. Even though I acted in school dramas, it’s… not the same. I like reading. And schools are small—you don’t have to run around like I do now. You can just hang out with familiar classmates, finish class, and then lie down to sleep!”

Wei Lai had always remembered the look in Chu Yin’s eyes then. Because this wish was impossible to fulfill, his gaze held only pure yearning—a casual fantasy. But it also proved that Chu Yin did have expectations for his own future.

If Wei Lai insisted on being his manager, it would only shackle him. Chu Yin might choose to stay in the entertainment industry, doing things he disliked just to earn money for Wei Lai—something Wei Lai absolutely did not want to see.

Chu Yin deserved his own life. He shouldn’t be controlled by Chen Meixian, shouldn’t be exploited by Wei Lai. He should do what he wanted—whether that was traveling or going to school.

Wei Lai parked the car in the hotel garage, and the group wandered into the hotel, taking the elevator up to the top-floor luxury suite. The living room table was still scattered with mahjong tiles. Chu Yin had been lying on the bed but, hearing the door open, drowsily opened his eyes, slipped into his sandals, and shuffled out—zeroing in on Wei Lai and plopping his head onto his shoulder. “Why’d you take so long?”

Wei Lai adjusted Chu Yin upright and sat on the sofa. “It’s only been three hours. Hungry? Let’s order takeout. Pick something.”

Chu Yin sat next to Wei Lai as he opened the delivery app. “What do you want to eat?”

Chu Yin didn’t answer, his index finger absently picking at Wei Lai’s pants, making the fabric ‘ziiip’ and ‘ziiiip’ under his touch. Beneath that serious face was endless indecision.

Yan Yunshui sprawled dramatically across Chu Yin’s lap. “Slutty Wei, why don’t you ask me and Booty-san what we wanna eat?”

Booty-san sniffed, “Yun Yun, we’re just two third wheels lucky not to be banished to the streets to drink the northwest wind. We’ll take whatever scraps we get—no right to be picky.”

Wei Lai raised an eyebrow. “Alright, alright. What do you two want? If you don’t answer in three seconds, shut up.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“…Thr—”

Booty-san hated countdowns. “Hotpot!”

Yan Yunshui: “Hotpot!”

Wei Lai turned to Chu Yin. “Hotpot okay? If not, we can order something else.”

Chu Yin nodded. “Okay.”

Wei Lai moved Chu Yin’s hand away. “Stop picking at my pants. Last time, you literally scratched a hole in my jeans.”

Chu Yin pouted. “That was Big Orange. He bit a hole, and I just cut it bigger with scissors—to turn it into distressed jeans for you.”

Wei Lai: “…”

Booty-san silently poured himself a glass of red wine, crossing his legs as he took a sip. Yan Yunshui glanced between Wei Lai and Chu Yin. “Wanna go out tonight?”

Wei Lai: “Where?”

Yan Yunshui: “Dunno. Wherever the 1s are.”

“You might as well use an app.” Wei Lai stood up from the sofa, pulled open the curtains, and stood under the bright daylight, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone as he yelled:

“ANY 1S OUT THERE?!?!?!?!! WILLING TO PAY TOP DOLLAR FOR A SKILLED, THICK, LONG ONE!!!!!!!!!”

Booty-san shuddered, then scrambled over to Wei Lai’s side, roaring:

“SMALL IS FINE TOO!!!! JUST BE A 1 !!!!!! JUST BE ABLE TO GO AT IT DAILY!!!!!!!”

“Us too!” Yan Yunshui dragged Chu Yin over, wiggling his waist as he squeezed in, his voice carrying the melody of a Yunnan folk song:

“Strong, pure 1s, come take me~ Yun Yun wants to hit the road, ah~ A-lie-lie, a-lie-lie, a-lie a-lie-lie~ Strong pure 1s, come take me~ Crybaby’s skin is so fair~!”

Yan Yunshui slapped Chu Yin enthusiastically, clearly hyped up, and shouted: “Crybaby, take it away!”

Chu Yin jolted at the slap and instinctively echoed:

“A-lie-lie, a-lie-lie~ Crybaby’s so handsome~”

Wei Lai giggled. “Oho, look at you, so full of yourself. Ugh, so blinding—where are my sunglasses?”

Chu Yin hooked the sunglasses with a finger and handed them to Wei Lai. As Wei Lai reached for them, Chu Yin flicked his wrist and put them on himself instead—now completely uninhibited. Standing on the 32nd floor, gazing down at the miniature city below as if it were an endless ocean, he stood on tiptoe, bouncing slightly as he spread his arms and yelled:

“I’M GAY!!!!!!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! I’M GAY!!!!! I’M NOT ON A BILLBOARD! I, CHU YIN, AM STANDING HERE, FLESH AND BLOOD—I’M A HOMOSEXUAL! I LIKE MEN! I’M NOT THE IDOL YOU THINK I AM!!!! ANY 1S OUT THERE?!?!”

The four of them shouted in unison:

“COME FUCK ME!!!!!!!!”

The echoes faded. No 1s descended from the heavens. No 1s came flying in from nowhere. Not even a single innocent bystander gawked—just a few startled birds flapping away.

Wei Lai closed the curtains, amused, shrugging as he suppressed a laugh. “Told you—no 1s in this city.”

Yan Yunshui downed a glass of water, intrigued. “Hypothetically—if one of us had to be the top, who do you think it should be?”