Chapter 43 – Qingdao’s Fierce 0

After Chu Yin blocked Wei Lai, his burning jealousy had nowhere to vent. Clutching his phone, he fumed like a boiling kettle, steam practically puffing out of his ears.

That slutty Madam Wei—how could he be so outrageous?!

Here he was, enduring humiliation and working hard with two weirdos to earn money, while Wei Lai had the audacity to ogle naked men behind his back! And even considered pimping him out?! Even if he was a troublemaking disaster at home, at least he could still scoop litter, mop floors, and clean toilets! Was Wei Lai really in such a hurry to dump him?!

Qian Tianyi lazily drawled, “Wh—a—t—ti—me—is—it?”

Chu Yin, fuming, tossed his phone at Qian Tianyi. “Check it yourself! You’re so lazy, it’s unbelievable!!!”

The eccentric Qian Tianyi glanced at the time and, with zero self-awareness, began strolling slowly through the city center. “I—th—i—n—k—I—kn—o—w—w—ha—t—I—wa—nt—to—do.”

Yao Chaowu asked, “What?”

Qian Tianyi replied, “Fi—nd—a—st—re—et, si—t—do—wn, an—d—be—g. Ah~ I—ju—st—ne—ed—a—bo—wl.”

Chu Yin: “…”

Yao Chaowu: “…”

Qian Tianyi’s career plan suited him so perfectly that it left them momentarily speechless.

The first step in finding a job was talking to people—and in a foreign country, no less, having to request work in English. This was practically a death sentence for Chu Yin.

He really, really didn’t want to talk to anyone.

When Chu Yin went out without Wei Lai, he basically turned into a socially anxious child, scowling at everyone. Outsiders might mistake it for aloofness, but in reality, Chu Yin was so tense he wanted to dig a hole and bury himself. He remembered how Wei Lai, even when just taking out the trash, would always be neatly dressed and smiling, radiating an outgoing, cheerful aura. He could strike up small talk with strangers and, within just a month, had won the affection of everyone within a 500-meter radius. Right now, Chu Yin missed that greasy Madam Wei terribly—so much so that he even wished he could temporarily borrow Wei Lai’s pimping skills for himself.

Yao Chaowu said, “I’m thinking of finding a temporary job at a café or restaurant. Chu Yin, wanna come?”

Even with his social anxiety, Chu Yin would rather beg on the streets with Qian Tianyi than go job-hunting with Yao Chaowu. He replied coolly, “No.”

“Okay.” Yao Chaowu scratched his cheek, looking disappointed.

Chu Yin thought, Stop pretending. You’re probably overjoyed inside.

Just then, a man wearing headphones and sunglasses brushed past Chu Yin. Chu Yin felt a touch on his butt and instinctively reached back—only to grab nothing.

His phone had been stolen!

Alarm bells blared in Chu Yin’s mind. He grabbed the man’s shoulder and roared, “Stop! Where’s my phone?!!”

The man clearly didn’t understand Chinese, but Chu Yin’s expression alone was enough to make him panic. He broke into a sprint, and Chu Yin took off after him like a bullet. The cameraman chased after them, and Yao Chaowu, realizing what was happening, joined the pursuit.

Qian Tianyi, reacting a beat too late: “…Huh?”

Holding Chu Yin’s phone, Qian Tianyi looked puzzled. “Hi—s—ph—on—e—is—st—i—ll—he—re—th—o—ugh?”

The production assistant: “…”

Unfortunately, the group had already dashed off like a whirlwind, leaving only the PA to impassively zoom in on Qian Tianyi’s baffled face.

On the Beach

A light drizzle fell where Wei Lai was, but there were still plenty of tourists around. Among them, Wei Lai spotted Chen Meixian swimming at a glance.

Just seeing Chen Meixian made Wei Lai’s chest tighten uncomfortably.

Chu Yin rarely did overly revealing photoshoots, but in the few magazine spreads where he did, his skin looked as smooth as silk, something Wei Lai had once envied. Back when Chu Yin took a hit for Wei Lai and fractured his right hand, Wei Lai had practically worshipped him like an ancestor, even bathing him himself.

That was how Wei Lai ended up seeing every inch of Chu Yin.

But at the time, Wei Lai hadn’t been able to entertain any impure thoughts.

Because the flawless skin from the magazines was a lie.

He saw scars all over Chu Yin’s body—frostbite marks on his calves from childhood, thin white lashes scattered across his back (not deep, barely noticeable unless you looked closely)—left by Chen Meixian’s whip. There were even cigarette burns on the inside of his thighs.

Yet, Wei Lai couldn’t sue Chen Meixian for intentional assault. If it ever got out that Chu Yin was gay and had been sexually abused by his manager, it would become an epic scandal—hurting the enemy by a thousand but destroying Chu Yin by ten thousand.

Wei Lai had also considered using underhanded methods to ruin Chen Meixian, but after much hesitation, Chu Yin told him to let it go. Because of this, Wei Lai and Chu Yin had a huge fight, but in the end, Wei Lai respected Chu Yin’s choice.

Thinking about it calmly now, Wei Lai could understand. Chu Yin and Chen Meixian’s relationship wasn’t just any ordinary male-male dynamic. Chu Yin had once loved Chen Meixian, and there was also the matter of the Chen family’s kindness in raising him. Chu Yin remembered grudges but remembered favors even more. Without Mrs. Chen, there would be no Chu Yin today. But those once-beautiful feelings had turned into an inescapable guilt, like a rubber band around Chu Yin’s neck—the further he walked, the tighter it strangled him.

Wei Lai could understand, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t furious.

If Chen Meixian had just minded his own business and left Chu Yin alone, maybe in a decade or two, Wei Lai could’ve calmly accompanied Chu Yin to spit on Chen Meixian’s grave. But Chen Meixian’s actions yesterday—deliberately provoking Chu Yin—had crossed Wei Lai’s bottom line. To put it in terms that defied socialist core values, Wei Lai wished Chen Meixian would drown in the sea right now, or get bitten in half by a shark, spending the rest of his miserable life paralyzed in a wheelchair.

Just imagining it was satisfying. Wei Lai decided to vent some of his rage.

He raised a delicate finger and pointed toward the shore. “Hey, look—doesn’t Chen Meixian look like he’s cramping up?”

Long Dongqiang detected a note of glee in Wei Lai’s tone. He squinted into the distance. “I can’t even tell which one is Chen Meixian.”

Wei Lai said, “The one swimming like a dog.”

Long Dongqiang: “…”

“Hehe.” Wei Lai took off his loud geometric-print shirt, stretched his old bones, and plopped down next to Long Dongqiang’s chair.

Long Dongqiang: terror.jpg

Long Dongqiang’s face trembled like jelly. “Brother Wei… I’m not…”

Wei Lai knew Long Dongqiang wasn’t gay—just an innocent little chubby otaku.

He pulled out a tube of sunscreen. “…Relax. Just put some sunscreen on me. Don’t let the lack of sun fool you—the UV rays are brutal. I’m already too tall; if I get dark too, no one will want me!”

Long Dongqiang: “…” Not knowing how to respond, he slathered sunscreen on Wei Lai like a northeastern bathhouse attendant, silently wondering: Are Wei Lai and Chu Yin actually a couple?

Once the sunscreen was applied, Wei Lai handed his phone to Long Dongqiang with a flourish, his tone coquettish but his eyes murderous. “I’m gonna go have some fun. Brother Long, mind holding onto my phone? If someone calls, just wave my shirt at me, and I’ll come right back.”

Long Dongqiang shivered inexplicably—there was something strangely gangster-like about Wei Lai’s vibe, like a boss heading out to claim territory.

Wei Lai had grown up in Qingdao, spending half his childhood diving for seafood in the water—a true “White Streak in the Waves.” As an adult, though he’d mostly lived in Chengdu and Beijing, as someone who loved ogling wet, shirtless hunks on the beach, skills like swimming and surfing were second nature to him.

Dressed in a bright yellow life jacket, standing on a flamboyantly lavender surfboard, and wielding a pink floatie, Wei Lai rode the drizzling waves like a seasoned madam—swaying left and right yet steady as a rock, conquering wave after wave with effortless grace.

After getting his fill of fun (and completing his warm-up), Wei Lai was about ten meters away from Chen Meixian when he hurled the pink floatie with precision—landing it right over Chen Meixian’s head like a ring toss.

Chen Meixian: “…”

Chen Meixian’s face darkened. He waited until Wei Lai got closer before growling, “Wei Lai, are you out of your damn mind?”

Wei Lai rolled his eyes. “Hah? Even if I were, I’d still be saner than you.”

Chen Meixian sneered. “I don’t have time for your nonsense. Spit it out if you’ve got something to say.”

“Darling, cameras can’t see underwater.” Wei Lai raised an eyebrow and suddenly smiled—a sinister, effeminate curl of his lips. “Judging by the weather, there’s gonna be some big waves soon. People die here every year from getting slammed by them. The death toll wouldn’t miss you.”

Chen Meixian mocked, “You think a sissy like you can take me on?”

Wei Lai yanked off his life jacket and smashed it into Chen Meixian’s face before diving into the sparkling water like a fish—disappearing without even a bubble.

A few seconds later, Chen Meixian’s waist was hit with a brutal impact, sending him skidding several meters against the current. When he finally steadied himself, his spine felt like Wei Lai had kicked it in half. Gritting through the pain, he scanned the vast ocean—but Wei Lai was nowhere to be seen.

Chen Meixian bellowed, “Wei Lai, you fucking bitch!!! All you know is playing dirty!!!”

Before he could finish, another kick slammed into his stomach, dunking half his head underwater. It dawned on him then—Wei Lai genuinely wanted him dead. If he died in Australia, Chinese police wouldn’t dig too deep. Panic finally set in as Chen Meixian coughed and flailed back toward shore.

Then, his neck suddenly seized—an immense pressure forced his head back, making it hard to breathe. His limbs began losing strength.

Wei Lai finally surfaced like a water ghost, pressing Chen Meixian’s head down with one hand while his other arm hooked around his throat in a tight chokehold.

“Darling,” Wei Lai whispered in Chen Meixian’s ear. “You like S&M, right? Drowning play—double the fun~”

Chen Meixian’s face turned crimson, nostrils flaring. “…Wei…”

Wei Lai loosened his grip slightly, thinking his dad’s advice—“Don’t get into fights; you might accidentally kill someone”—was pretty sound.

Fear flooded Chen Meixian’s heart. In his mind, Wei Lai was just a background-less meat peddler, a weak, effeminate coward who relied on tricks to get by. He never imagined Wei Lai could be so vicious, so brazen—willing to kill and dump a body at sea while filming a show.

Wei Lai had planned to torment Chen Meixian a little longer—enough to make him avoid Wei Lai on sight in the future—but then Long Dongqiang suddenly started waving his bright watermelon shirt from the shore, jumping up and down like it was urgent.

“Don’t touch what’s mine, got it? This is just a warning. I’ll be watching you.”

With a delicate flick of his fingers, Wei Lai shoved the ashen-faced Chen Meixian onto the pink floatie and dove back underwater, swimming toward shore.

Before his feet even touched sand, Long Dongqiang rushed over, holding Wei Lai’s loudly ringing phone. “It’s Chu Yin! He’s called like five times already!”

Wei Lai went, “Huh?” realizing he’d been released from his emperor’s cold palace. Grinning ear to ear, he answered, “Pouty baby?!”

Qian Tianyi: “Yo—ur—po—ut—y—ba—by—is—lo—st.”

Wei Lai: “…”

Putting the call on speaker, Wei Lai motioned for Long Dongqiang to listen in. “Qian Tianyi? What’s going on???”

Qian Tianyi: “He—we—nt—af—ter—a—thi—ef, ra—n—su—per—fa—st, we—co—ul—dn’t—ke—ep—up, no—w—we—ca—n’t—fi—nd—hi—m.”

Wei Lai’s heart raced as words tumbled out: “Why do you have his phone?!”

Qian Tianyi replied leisurely, “He—le—nt—it—to—me—to—che—ck—the—ti—me, bu—t—th—en—th—ou—ght—hi—s—ph—one—go—t—sto—len…”

Wei Lai: “AHHHHH, can you talk any slower?! I’m gonna lose it!”

Long Dongqiang sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Don’t interrupt him… He’ll reboot on his own. It’s infuriating.”

Sure enough, Qian Tianyi paused before starting over: “He—le—nt—it—to—me—to—che—ck—the—ti—me, bu—t—th—en—th—ou—ght—hi—s—ph—one—go—t—sto—len, so—he—ch—ased—af—ter—a—ma—n—wh—o—lo—oke—d—sh—ady.”

The whole thing sounded so absurd Wei Lai couldn’t believe Chu Yin had done something so dumb. It felt like a scripted show stunt, so he instinctively pressed for confirmation: “How are you calling me from his phone?”

Qian Tianyi sounded puzzled. “Is—it—ha—rd? Th—e—pa—ss—wo—rd—is—yo—ur—bi—rt—hd—ay. It’s—on—Bai—du.”

Wei Lai’s heart skipped a beat: Chu Yin’s phone password… is my birthday?