Chapter 18 – Cupping the Crybaby

Chu Yin didn’t cry during the fight, nor in the car. But when he heard the devastating news of his bone fracture and sat in the hospital getting a cast, his eyes gradually welled up with glistening crybaby tears.

Wei Lai quickly handed him a tissue, saying, “…Here, wipe your tears.”

Chu Yin, tearfully, replied, “My bone is fractured. You wipe them for me.”

Wei Lai, “…But your left hand is fine.”

Chu Yin’s left hand had been clutching Wei Lai’s clothes the entire time. The thought of letting go just to wipe his tears made him resistant. He turned his face away, pouting proudly, “Then I won’t wipe them.”

Wei Lai, in moments where he shouldn’t be this dense, was unbelievably dense. He couldn’t grasp Chu Yin’s desire for him to wipe his tears and was mostly focused on his phone.

Wei Lai was using all his connections to track down the lunatics who had attacked them. The thought of Chu Yin getting hurt because of him gnawed at him relentlessly. Every time he glanced at Chu Yin’s injured hand, his heart ached with guilt, anxiety, and rage, his expression turning icy.

Chu Yin, seeing Wei Lai engrossed in texting and not even bothering to comfort him, felt so wronged that tears began to fall in big drops.

The nurse, having seen it all, comforted him, “Getting a cast doesn’t hurt. Relax your shoulders.”

But Chu Yin thought it hurt.

The process of getting the cast inevitably jostled his right hand, the constant adjustments sending waves of pain that felt even worse than when he was being beaten.

And on top of that, Wei Lai was ignoring him.

Chu Yin glanced up at Wei Lai again, who said, “Don’t cry. Once the cast is done, we can go home. Are you hungry? Should I arrange some late-night snacks first?”

Chu Yin shook his head and suddenly stopped crying.

He remembered how Chen Meixian would yell at him when he cried, calling him effeminate, saying he was worse than a woman. After the scolding, Chen Meixian would whip him until he couldn’t even cry anymore.

Chu Yin felt like he was being a burden to Wei Lai. He had only gone out looking for some nightlife but ended up getting assaulted by genital warts, getting into a fight, and now having to sit in the hospital getting a cast. He was terrified that Wei Lai would start resenting him, so he endured the pain silently until the cast was done. Back home, he obediently drank a bowl of porridge even though he had no appetite.

Wei Lai cleaned up the dishes and said, “It’s late. I’ll help you remove your makeup later, then you can sleep. We’ll leave the shower for tomorrow.”

Chu Yin hummed in response, his stomach churning uncomfortably, a wave of nausea hitting him.

Wei Lai thought for a moment and asked, “So… do you still want to sleep with me? Would I accidentally bump your injury?”

Chu Yin couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness.

Wei Lai wasn’t Furball. Furball could stay by his side forever, but Wei Lai couldn’t. Wei Lai was just his temporary manager—a kind-hearted, honest guy who pitied him and offered temporary support. Once Chu Yin left the industry, Wei Lai would move on to other artists, maybe even have new tops flocking around him.

Men and women could at least get married. But what did he have? He would never have a home again.

Chu Yin muttered hoarsely, “Just because we’re gay, those people wanted to beat us to death?”

Wei Lai consoled him, “There are plenty of lunatics in the world. Just rest well and don’t overthink it. I’ll make sure they pay.”

Chu Yin murmured, “I saw a lot of people taking photos. I thought, if this gets exposed online again, even more people would say ‘gays should die.’ Or they’d say they neither support nor oppose it, but if it were their son, they’d never accept it.”

“Eventually, it’d turn into ‘Chu Yin is gay, he’s disgusting,’ a bunch of fans leaving, and people cursing me out, saying they can’t believe they ever genuinely liked someone like me—it’d make them sick.”

Wei Lai: “…”

Chu Yin forced a smile. “I guess I’m overthinking it, huh? Chen Meixian always said I was too sensitive. The more money you make, the more criticism you face. If you can’t handle it, it’s your own fault.”

Wei Lai thought of one of their company’s artists—not a superstar, but fairly well-known. Within two years of debuting, they were bullied into depression and took their own life.

The irony was, while they were alive, they were just moderately popular. But after death, their name became a talking point in discussions about cyberbullying. Information moved like waves—mourning and reflection vanished in an instant. Six months later, their name was reduced to a case study.

Wei Lai knew that Chu Yin, despite claiming not to care about what fans said, cared deeply. He couldn’t sleep at night, had no appetite during the day, and when off-screen, he lay listlessly like a mushroom with no will to live.

This wasn’t a good sign. Wei Lai had felt Chu Yin’s mental state was precarious lately. The normal affection Chu Yin had received was minimal—his pride and inferiority complex were largely shaped by fan love. Which meant that fan hatred would be absolutely devastating for him.

Wei Lai said, “Aren’t you retiring after your concert anyway? You’re not oversensitive—you’re just too dedicated. The people who trash-talk you are idiots, so who cares about them? You’re the brightest, most dazzling flower under Madam Wei’s wing!”

Chu Yin’s nausea peaked. He sprinted to the bathroom. “Hurk!!”

Wei Lai: “…”

Wei Lai rushed to the bathroom, but Chu Yin kicked the door shut. “Don’t come in! Hurk!!!”

However, Wei Lai’s foot was already halfway in, wedged in the doorframe as it slammed shut, nearly crushing his head into a rectangular shape. Clutching his nose, he went to the kitchen to pour a glass of warm water.

After vomiting, Chu Yin lay on the bed like a corpse. Wei Lai, still holding his nose, handed him the water, his shirtfront stained with blood.

Chu Yin bolted upright, shrieking, “You got a nosebleed again?!”

Wei Lai said, “Thanks to you smacking the door in my face… You must have some kind of grudge against high noses.”

Chu Yin stared at Wei Lai, flustered like a startled cat, stammering, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… If you want, you can hit me to vent…”

Seeing Wei Lai raise the cup, Chu Yin shrank back, his entire face scrunching up, bracing for the water to be thrown at him. Instead, Wei Lai just pressed the cup lightly against his cheek.

The temperature was just right—not too hot, not too cold, like the warmth of Wei Lai’s palm.

Chu Yin opened his eyes, stunned.

Wei Lai said, “Let me tell you something interesting.”

He pulled over the nightstand, sat down with the water, and dropped a bombshell right away: “I’ve been jealous of you before.”

Chu Yin: “…Huh?”

Wei Lai took a sip of water. “There was a time when your bromance CP with Yao Chaowu was super popular. Even though everyone said you were this aloof, cool top, I could tell right away—you had this natural-born bitchy aura.”

Chu Yin: “…Don’t think just because you’re bleeding, I won’t hit you.”

Wei Lai said, “Don’t get mad yet. You’ll want to hit me even more after hearing the rest.”

Chu Yin: “…”

“Back then, I really disliked you. Seeing you with Yao Chaowu made me dislike you even more. I can’t explain the feeling. If I had to compare it, it was like seeing an annoying stray cat—pretending to be aloof but secretly wanting everyone to worship your charm. Covered in fleas and germs but still rubbing against people’s legs. Hiding your claws pitifully to act cute. So fake.”

Wei Lai’s expression was cold. Chu Yin suddenly couldn’t tell what Wei Lai was thinking. Fear crept in, and he instinctively said, “Stop talking. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it. I don’t want to sleep with you tonight. Get out! Get out!”

Wei Lai ignored him and continued, “But later, I stopped thinking that way. Like when you just said I could hit you to vent. Before, I’d have thought you were just acting pitiful. But now that I know you better, I understand—it’s because Chen Meixian used to hit you when he was angry, then act nice afterward. So in your mind, you think if I hit you, I’ll stop being mad.”

Wei Lai, with his years of silver-tongued experience, spun his words so well that Chu Yin was left dumbfounded.

Wei Lai paused, then said, “When I wrote those hit pieces about you, I didn’t think it’d hurt you—just a tool for publicity. But now that you’re right in front of me, even seeing you skip a single meal makes my heart ache.”

Chu Yin whined incoherently, his brain reduced to mush by Wei Lai’s speech, looping one thought endlessly: What is he saying? Is this Madam Wei’s motivational speech or is he flirting with me???

“I’m sorry.” Wei Lai patted Chu Yin’s head. “I’ve smeared your name many times before. And as your manager, I haven’t protected you well enough.”

Chu Yin couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. He didn’t care if his makeup ran as he burst into loud, hiccuping sobs. “…Earlier at the hospital, you were mean to me.”

Wei Lai: “???”

Chu Yin held grudges. Chu Yin was wronged. Splat—he buried his face in Wei Lai’s stomach, crying so hard his whole body shook.

Wei Lai, baffled, patted Chu Yin’s head and blurted out in dialect, “Ain’t no way! Mean my ass! How could I ever be mean to ya?”

Chu Yin: “Waaahhhh—”

Wei Lai: “…”

After nearly half an hour of crying, Chu Yin finally quieted down. Wei Lai carefully shifted his shoulders back and realized Chu Yin had cried himself to sleep.

And on Wei Lai’s stomach was a perfect imprint of Chu Yin’s face—eyes, nose, makeup smeared with tears—like some postmodern art piece.

Wei Lai: “…”

Wei Lai was truly born to be a mother hen. He meticulously removed Chu Yin’s makeup, then used a damp towel to soothe his swollen eyes.

After the night’s events, Wei Lai couldn’t sleep at all—his mind was full of Chu Yin.

Even with Chu Yin asleep, Wei Lai could still hear phantom cries of “Wahhhh,” proving just how deeply brainwashed he was.

Chu Yin tried to roll over in the blankets but winced when his right hand moved, whimpering as he kicked the bed.

Wei Lai held him down and whispered, “Don’t move. Does your hand hurt?”

Chu Yin cracked an eye open and snuggled closer to Wei Lai, lying through his teeth. “…No. Doesn’t hurt at all.”

Wei Lai remembered what Chu Yin had said earlier and, as if possessed, kissed his right cheek. “A kiss will make it better.”

Chu Yin, still half-asleep, turned his face away, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Wei Lai coughed awkwardly, suddenly aware of how cringey this was. They were supposed to be good sisters, but this felt like some mushy couple moment.

“Here.” Chu Yin puffed out his left cheek, draping a leg over Wei Lai as he nuzzled closer. “…Kiss here too.”

Wei Lai: “You natural-born manwhore bitch! I’ll kiss your face swollen today!” With that, he planted a big, loud kiss—Mwah!

Crisp and clear!

Chu Yin was jolted awake. Dazed, he wiped his face. “…Were you cupping my face just now?”

Wei Lai: “…Hallucination. Nothing happened.”

“Oh…” Sleepiness took over again, and Chu Yin was out like a light. Wei Lai sighed in relief and swore that if he ever lost his mind and kissed Chu Yin again, may he reincarnate as a pure 1 in his next life!