Chapter 15 – Scheming Cat

This comment made passersby frequently glance their way. Chu Yin shrank his head, afraid of being recognized, quickly pulling up a high-definition photo of a penis covered in genital warts on his phone and shoving the screen right in Wei Lai’s face.

Wei Lai: “!!!!!!!!!!”

Wei Lai, with his cleanliness obsession and intensified trypophobia, immediately felt goosebumps crawling all over his back. He covered his eyes and waved his hands frantically, “Take it away, take it away, get rid of it!”

Chu Yin withdrew his phone and whispered solemnly, “Meeting men under telephone poles will rot your dick.”

Wei Lai: “…”

Chu Yin said earnestly, “Oh no, wait—you’ll rot your asshole.”

Wei Lai: “…”

The shadow of this revelation cast a gloom over Wei Lai’s dreams of a passionate night. He suddenly felt unwell, an itchy sensation creeping up his dick—the more he thought about it, the itchier it got, and the itchier it got, the more he wanted to scratch.

Wei Lai said, “It’s all your fault. Now I want to scratch my dick.”

Chu Yin replied, “Then scratch it. I won’t look.”

Wei Lai was a man of dignity and couldn’t bring himself to scratch his dick in the middle of the street. He glared at Chu Yin with bulging eyes.

Chu Yin pursed his lips and said, “Then let’s go into the alley to scratch it. I’ll keep watch for you.”

Wei Lai said, “You wait here. I’ve arranged to meet Yan Yunshui and two friends under this telephone pole.”

Chu Yin glanced around. Seeing that Yan Yunshui hadn’t arrived yet, he whined clingily, “I want to go with you. I don’t want to stand here alone.”

Wei Lai asked, “Why?”

“I… I’m scared.” Chu Yin inexplicably adopted the expression of a chaste househusband guarding his virtue, warily saying, “I’m afraid someone will harass me.”

Wei Lai said, “…Aren’t you the one who can punch people and send them flying?”

Chu Yin playfully punched Wei Lai’s shoulder and cooed, “Bullshit! I can’t do that.”

Wei Lai: “…” His shoulder was practically numb from the punch.

Beside the telephone pole was a secluded, pitch-black alley. The two of them stealthily slipped into the alley. Chu Yin was afraid of the dark, so he stood where the light reached, while Wei Lai, concerned about his dignity—lest surveillance cameras capture footage of a man digging into his pants in the dead of night—walked into the unlit part of the alley.

Just as Wei Lai was about to scratch, Chu Yin, who had promised to keep watch, suddenly ran over and hooked his arm around Wei Lai’s.

Wei Lai: “What are you doing? You scared me, running over like that.”

Chu Yin clung to him. “…There’s no one on the street anymore. I just saw a group of people walking past with sticks, looking really fierce.”

Wei Lai: “…Gangsters looking for revenge. It’s not you they’re after, so why are you scared?”

Chu Yin: “I also heard a woman crying.”

Wei Lai: “I didn’t hear anything.”

Chu Yin squirmed. “You have to trust my hearing!”

Wei Lai sighed. “You’re holding onto my hand—how am I supposed to scratch?”

Chu Yin: “Don’t you have another hand?”

Wei Lai: “Brother… I need to unzip. Is your courage as big as an ant’s fart?”

Chu Yin: “I’ll help you unzip.”

With that, Chu Yin quickly pulled down the zipper, not even daring to open his eyes, and said, “Hurry up and scratch. I’m scared.”

Wei Lai wanted to curse. Gnashing his teeth, he said, “I’ve never met someone as infuriating as you. If you’re so bold, help me scratch it yourself!”

Chu Yin’s face was pressed close to Wei Lai’s, his warm breath tickling Wei Lai’s ear as he spoke.

“Then promise me. Don’t hook up with others—date properly.”

As a popular male singer, Chu Yin’s normal speaking voice was neither too high nor too low—pleasantly soothing—especially at this distance, which was far too intimate. Wei Lai’s imagination ran wild.

Wei Lai rubbed his ear uncomfortably. “Let’s go. I’m not scratching anymore. I’m fine. It doesn’t itch. Totally OJBK¹A more vulgar way to say “ok” (O “penis” K). Kind of similar to how “fucking” is added sometimes for emphasis, like “that’s fucking awesome.”.”

Chu Yin clung to Wei Lai, refusing to let him leave, and said gravely, “Wait—there’s one more thing.”

Wei Lai: “…”

He’s definitely flirting with me!

Wei Lai felt the situation spiraling out of control. His closeness with Chu Yin far exceeded the typical intimacy between an artist and their manager—it was even beyond that of close friends. They shouldn’t have reached the point of sneaking into alleys hand-in-hand for heart-to-heart talks.

Wei Lai’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his heart pounding as all sorts of filthy alleyway scenarios played out in his overactive imagination.

What if Chu Yin actually helped him scratch his dick?

What if Chu Yin had feelings for him and helped him jerk off?

Suppose Chu Yin went all out and used a certain position—one that would get this chapter locked on jjwxc—to “help” him. What then?

If Chu Yin confessed to him, should he top or bottom the first time?

Once a top, always a top—there’d be no turning back!

The “Ten Thousand What-Ifs” bombarded Wei Lai’s hyperactive brain. He stared at Chu Yin’s hand, unblinking, sweating nervously.

“Zzzzip—”

Chu Yin reached out like a fierce pouncing cat and zipped Wei Lai’s pants back up with lightning speed. Satisfied, he hooked his arm around Wei Lai’s and swung it playfully, flashing his signature commercial endorsement smile.

“Building Chengdu’s civilized culture starts with zipping up your pants—stay away from STDs!”

The once-renowned Slut King of Chunxi, Madam Wei, stood stunned like a wooden chicken. After a long pause: “…You damn bastard, did you do this on purpose?!”

Chu Yin widened his eyes innocently. “Why are you yelling at me? Boo-hoo!”

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  A more vulgar way to say “ok” (O “penis” K). Kind of similar to how “fucking” is added sometimes for emphasis, like “that’s fucking awesome.”