Chapter 17 – Queer and Dumbstruck

The scene was utter chaos. Facing multiple vicious thugs, our trio of 0 sisters were unexpectedly dominating the battle.

Chu Yin had been fighting since childhood, and after starring in numerous tough-guy action movies later on, his skills were top-notch—every strike ruthless, punching burly men and kicking sleazy punks with relentless ferocity.

Although the friend Yan Yunshui brought was a 0 at heart, as a gym coach, he was a super-buff, ultra-capable fighting hunk of a 0.

Yan Yunshui, who looked delicate and soft, was used to breaking up fights at school and possessed freakish strength—one kick could shatter a guy’s balls, delivering insane DPS.

However, Wei Lai was completely out of place.

Since childhood, Wei Lai’s father had drilled into him that if he ever threw a punch, someone could die—so unless absolutely necessary, he shouldn’t fight. Though Wei Lai had no idea where his dad got that confidence, he truly never fought. As a mature man, the only thing he “fought” the most was mahjong. In all his years, the only person he’d ever knocked down was Chen Meixian.

At that moment, a woman rushed over in a panic, shrieking, “Stop fighting! You got the wrong guy!!! He’s not Ren Zha!!! Uncle, stop hitting him!!!”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Everyone was too fired up to care whether they’d mistaken their target or not.

Wei Lai took out his phone and quickly dialed 110. Before the call could even connect, he suddenly heard Chu Yin yell, “Wei Lai!!! Behind you!!!”

Wei Lai didn’t turn around—he dodged sideways instantly—only to be pulled into a fluffy embrace the next second.

It was Chu Yin’s sweater, soft and warm, faintly carrying the scent of a flashy, bitchy perfume.

Everything happened too fast. Wei Lai only felt Chu Yin spin him around, and suddenly, the world fell silent.

According to Yan Yunshui’s later account, the scene had been downright cinematic. Someone had been about to whack Wei Lai from behind with a wooden pole. As Wei Lai dodged, Chu Yin pulled him into his arms, shielding Wei Lai’s head with his arm. The pole came down hard on Chu Yin’s forearm, but he didn’t even flinch—taking the hit head-on before delivering a smooth side kick that sent the thug’s head snapping sideways.

Once the world quieted down, the woman’s screams finally became clear: “Uncle, you hit the wrong guy! Ren Zha was at the bar up front! He already ran away!”

The thugs picked themselves up off the ground, exchanging uneasy glances. Some looked embarrassed, others still seething with rage. One even spat on the ground and snarled, “So what if we hit the wrong guy? Beating up fags is beating up fags—who cares which one?!”

A companion yanked his arm and forced an awkward laugh. “Sorry, bro. Our bad.”

Chu Yin said coldly, “Get lost.”

Yan Yunshui planted his hands on his hips and snapped, “Oh no, you don’t! You’re not leaving until you pay up!!! Police station, now!!!”

At the mention of compensation, the thugs exchanged looks, muttered a few more “sorry”s in unison, then dragged the woman away.

“Ohhh, tough guys who can’t own up to their shit?!” Yan Yunshui pointed at their retreating backs and cursed at the top of his lungs. “Throwing rocks into a shithole at night—just asking for shit to splash back in your face! What’s wrong with being gay?! Did fucking men steal rice from your family?! Bunch of brainless, slack-jawed morons—did your moms give birth to placentas or actual turds?! Disgraces to education, stains on society! You homophobic dickbags aren’t even worth the air you waste! Hear that? Yeah, I’m talking to you, you stupid fucking trash!!!”

The street was full of queer folks, and Yan Yunshui’s tirade earned a round of cheers.

His insults were so scathing that some of the thugs turned back, itching for another fight, but their friends yanked them away, muttering curses.

Noticing people filming, Wei Lai quickly shielded Chu Yin and tried to pull him somewhere less crowded. But the moment he touched Chu Yin’s hand, the man sucked in a sharp breath.

Wei Lai jerked his hand back as if burned. “What’s wrong???”

Chu Yin’s right hand trembled violently as he whispered, “…It hurts.”

Wei Lai felt like his soul was about to leave his body from sheer panic. “Don’t cry, don’t cry! Chu Yin, wait right here! I’ll get the car and take you to the hospital ASAP!”

Chu Yin grabbed him with his left hand. “…I’m coming with you.”

Wei Lai sped all the way to the hospital, driving faster and faster like a man racing to his own funeral—terrifying Yan Yunshui so much he clutched his poor little heart.

Chu Yin sat in the passenger seat and tugged at Wei Lai with his left hand. “I’m fine. Don’t rush.”

“Then stop crying!!! How can it not hurt?! That was a damn wooden pole! What if your hand’s broken?! That’s the hand you use to play piano and drums—why the hell did you take the hit for me?!!”

“…I’m not crying. My mascara isn’t waterproof today. Can’t ruin my makeup.”

Wei Lai: “…”

“Wei Lai,” Chu Yin reached out with his palm, catching a few cold teardrops, “you’re the one crying.”