Chapter 24

That afternoon, Lin Ze first bought Situ Ye a new waist bag for 500 yuan. Situ Ye’s expression immediately brightened, showing no trace of having just broken up. Zhao Yuhang, on the other hand, looked utterly heartbroken and began recounting his breakup story at Häagen-Dazs.

This time, there wasn’t much juicy gossip since he had already told Lin Ze most of it before. It was just that the feelings were gone, the love was gone. Today was the Lantern Festival, and Xiao Bai had initially agreed to spend it with Zhao Yuhang. But then his mother called, crying and lecturing him, so he ultimately decided to take his marriage-of-convenience wife home to accompany his parents. Zhao Yuhang had turned down all his family’s social obligations just to spend the holiday with Xiao Bai, only to be stood up.

So the two of them started arguing. Midway through the fight, Zhao Yuhang and Xiao Bai ended up in a physical altercation. Zhao Yuhang couldn’t bring himself to hit Xiao Bai and only pushed him lightly, but Xiao Bai punched him hard.

Lin Ze counted out the Häagen-Dazs cash vouchers for the server while occasionally nodding and making sounds of acknowledgment. Situ Ye, however, listened with great interest. Zhao Yuhang continued, “You know what? I didn’t dare lay a hand on him, but him? He hit me with full force…”

After being punched, Zhao Yuhang suddenly felt his heart turn cold. He never expected Xiao Bai to actually use such force. That punch felt like a slap in the face to all their past love—once lovers turn hostile, they become crueler than enemies.

“It’s… not that bad…” Situ Ye offered lamely.

“Not that bad.” Lin Ze didn’t dare comment further. He had done worse to Xie Chenfeng—swinging a shovel straight at his face. Compared to that, Zhao Yuhang’s “beauty-restoring punch” was nothing.

“Think about the good times he gave you,” Situ Ye urged. “Whenever I feel like giving up, I remind myself of how good he was to me before. Don’t give up…”

Lin Ze: “?”

Lin Ze looked at Situ Ye strangely. Situ Ye smiled at him and winked. Lin Ze realized he was probably making up stories to comfort Zhao Yuhang.

Zhao Yuhang sighed. “When I think back on all these years of our relationship, all I remember are the hurtful, bitter arguments. Just ugly, painful moments—hardly any warmth. Really, it’s all just frustration. I gave up so much for him, but when I try to find proof that he ever loved me, there’s nothing.”

Hearing this, Lin Ze knew Zhao Yuhang’s love was truly over.

Lin Ze had once felt the same—that exhausted, helpless feeling where looking back on the relationship only brought frustration, with few happy memories to cherish. Without this statement, he might have thought Zhao Yuhang was just acting impulsively. But now, he understood Zhao Yuhang was genuinely done holding on. It was time for both of them to move on.

“It’s fine,” Situ Ye offered. “Come to Chongqing to develop your career. I’ll introduce you to good people.”

Zhao Yuhang retorted, “Didn’t you just break up too?”

Situ Ye was instantly speechless. Zhao Yuhang declared, “I’m tired. I don’t want to date anymore. That’s it.”

After finishing their free ice cream, Lin Ze announced, “Let’s go. We’ll have dinner at Nanbin Road.”

As soon as they stepped outside, Zhao Yuhang asked, “Are there any gay bars in Chongqing?”

“The biggest one, Ruyi, got shut down and turned into a regular nightclub,” Lin Ze explained. “The smaller ones… I’m not sure. Hey, rich, tall, and handsome, didn’t you just say you didn’t want to date anymore?”

Zhao Yuhang stood in the middle of Bei Cheng Tian Street, turned around, and proclaimed, “Not wanting to date doesn’t mean I can’t go to a gay bar to hang out!”

Lin Ze and Situ Ye both paled, frantically signaling him to lower his voice. They shoved him into the car from both sides and drove off in a hurry.

That night, Lin Ze wasn’t sure what to do. Zhao Yuhang’s idea was to find a gay bar, see if there was any matchmaking event for the Lantern Festival, and maybe find someone he liked to start a long-distance relationship—just to solidify his resolve not to look back after the breakup. But with Xie Lei’s example fresh in his mind, Lin Ze would have to be out of his mind to take Zhao Yuhang to a gay bar to meet people. Absolutely forbidden!

After the three of them had hot pot at Nanbin Road, Lin Ze suggested going to see a movie.

So three grown men squeezed in among pairs of couples under the moonlit willows, watching a movie at dusk. Zhao Yuhang was in no mood for it, but as a guest, he had to follow the host’s lead and was dragged along.

“I want atmosphere,” Zhao Yuhang grumbled after the movie, having finished two large buckets of popcorn. He’d finally had enough. “No more movies!”

“You want atmosphere? Easy.” Lin Ze had originally planned to go home and sleep after the midnight show, but since Zhao Yuhang insisted, he decided to pull out the trump card. “Driver, head to Linjiangmen!”

Situ Ye chuckled and turned the steering wheel. Lin Ze then received a call from Zheng Jie—his first blind date of the year had ended in failure.

Lin Ze told him, “We’re sitting by the river at Linjiangmen. Come over.”

Situ Ye went to buy beer, deciding not to drive anymore. He bought a case, and the three of them drank by the river, clinking bottles loudly.

By the Jialing River, the vast waters shimmered under the moonlight as a full moon rose in the east, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of a spring night by the river.

The sky and river merged into one, flawless and pure,

A lone moon wheel hung bright in the sky.

Who by the river first beheld this moon?

When did the moon first shine upon mankind?

Now the atmosphere was perfect. Zhao Yuhang drank five bottles of beer and began to cry. His restrained sobs echoed under the moonlit night. Lin Ze had expected this—Zhao Yuhang’s five-year relationship had just ended. The pain was undoubtedly more profound and heart-wrenching than anything else.

Zheng Jie arrived and looked at Zhao Yuhang curiously. Zhao Yuhang, still crying, glanced at him, then turned and shook Zheng Jie’s hand with tears streaming down his face. Situ Ye opened a beer and handed it to Zheng Jie, who downed half of it in one go, cleared his throat, and—

“One person crying is enough,” Lin Ze quickly interjected. “You can take over after he’s done.”

“Crying isn’t just emotional labor—it’s physical labor too,” Situ Ye chimed in. “Let’s all take a break.”

Lin Ze patted Zhao Yuhang’s shoulder. “Brother Zhao, don’t cry. Turn over and jerk off.”

Zheng Jie’s sorrow instantly evaporated. Zhao Yuhang slung an arm over Zheng Jie’s shoulder without even asking who he was and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

Zheng Jie’s voice was gloomy. “Blind date failed.”

Zhao Yuhang patted Zheng Jie’s back, his own words slurring into a Chongqing dialect, “No big deal. Keep failing, keep trying. Carry on.”

Lin Ze introduced Zheng Jie to Zhao Yuhang as his childhood friend, then asked Zheng Jie, “What was the reason this time?”

Zheng Jie: “Debt.”

Lin Ze fell silent. He had advised Zheng Jie many times before—don’t bring it up at the start. Wait until they’re serious about dating, maybe the second or third date, then mention it, downplaying the amount. Ideally, say he’s helping his mother pay off debts and will marry once it’s settled.

If the other person genuinely says it’s fine and is willing to work through it, then gradually reveal the full extent of the debt. After all, Zheng Jie didn’t need to pay off every last cent for his mother—just enough to keep the loan sharks at bay. If things got really bad, they could always report it to the police later.

But Zheng Jie refused. He felt that not mentioning it upfront was deceitful, so he always came clean whenever asked about his family… Speaking of which, Lin Ze suddenly realized something—it had been months. Why hadn’t the debt collectors come?

Seven, eight, nine, ten… almost half a year. As Lin Ze puzzled over this, Zheng Jie started pouring his woes out to Zhao Yuhang. Drunk, Zhao Yuhang boomed, “It’s fine! Once it’s paid off, you can get married! I’ll help you pay!”

Lin Ze: “…”

Situ Ye: “…”

Zheng Jie mumbled, “Thank you…”

Lin Ze thought, How can you believe that? Drunk talk is the least reliable. He hurriedly started, “Don’t you two—”

But Zheng Jie stopped him, also a bit drunk, and turned to Zhao Yuhang. “I don’t know you, but thank you!”

Lin Ze: “…”

“But! I believe I can do it myself!” Zheng Jie declared. “A’Ze will help me too. For saying that, you’re welcome to visit us anytime!”

Lin Ze and Situ Ye immediately fell silent.

“Well said.” Lin Ze smiled and patted Zheng Jie’s shoulder. Situ Ye gave him a thumbs-up. Zhao Yuhang slurred, “Hey, A’Ze’s friends are my friends! We’re all brothers here—no need for formalities! Come on, drink!”

The four clinked beer bottles and drank wildly until they were dizzy. Lin Ze vomited by the river, and Situ Ye quickly brought out the mineral water he’d just bought for him to rinse his mouth.

“A’Ze, how did you break up? Tell me,” Zhao Yuhang asked.

“That guy died, man,” Zheng Jie stated flatly.

Zhao Yuhang fell silent. Slurring, Zheng Jie added, “You guys are all… all… that kind, right?”

Situ Ye nodded and handed him water. Zheng Jie pushed it back, signaling he didn’t want any.

“You… you’re not?” Zhao Yuhang asked.

“I… know you all… are, like, 1s and 0s. And I know what 419¹419 means one night stand is… and… piaopiao,” Zheng Jie muttered.

Everyone burst out laughing. Having spent so much time with Lin Ze, Zheng Jie had picked up quite a bit of slang—even regional terms like piaopiao (piaopiao: a local term for gay men). Instantly, all their sorrows were swept away. Zhao Yuhang patted Zheng Jie’s back. “You’ve got potential! How come A’Ze never bent you? You should join us…”

Lin Ze, still slightly sober after vomiting, immediately signaled Zhao Yuhang not to spout nonsense. If Zheng Jie’s orientation shifted, he couldn’t take responsibility for that. But Zhao Yuhang went on, “You and A’Ze could…”

“He…” Zheng Jie, drunk, pulled Situ Ye over and pushed him and Lin Ze together. “He and him—they could!”

“Yeah, they could, they could!” Zhao Yuhang agreed enthusiastically.

Situ Ye suddenly spoke up. “I knew A’Ze before he met Xie Lei.”

Lin Ze glanced at him sideways. “Really? Only by a day or two, right?”

“Back then, I was at Starbucks, asking if you could get free refills on ice water…” Situ Ye recalled.

“But you showed zero interest back then,” Lin Ze countered. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have fallen for Xie Lei first. If someone as great as you had just said you were a top or that you were fishing for a bottom, I’d have dated you long ago…”

This topic was extremely awkward. Both Situ Ye and Lin Ze flushed red, loudly and earnestly debating why they hadn’t hooked up earlier. In the end, Situ Ye lay on the ground and yelled helplessly, “I can never win an argument with you—!!”

Lin Ze burst into laughter, coughing as he got up, beer bottle in hand, and walked away.

“Hey! A’Ze! You really won’t consider my little brother?” Zhao Yuhang called after him.

Situ Ye, afraid Lin Ze might fall into the river and drown, chased after him. Lin Ze stood desolately by the riverbank, his hair short like a hedgehog’s, his jacket stained with vomit, the cold wind blowing relentlessly.

“When did you start calling Zhao Yuhang ‘brother’?” Lin Ze’s voice was quiet.

“Back in Beijing,” Situ Ye answered.

The two fell into silence for a long time.

“Let’s go back,” Situ Ye finally suggested.

“Situ Ye.” Lin Ze tapped his bottle and straightened up, looking at Situ Ye’s face under the moonlight. He pressed the bottle against Situ Ye’s chest and pushed lightly. “You…”

“I know what you want to say, boss. I just want to ask you something,” Situ Ye interrupted gently.

Lin Ze made an acknowledging sound, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

Situ Ye smiled. “If I leave now, will you miss me?”

“Of course. I feel like I’m almost in love with you,” Lin Ze murmured.

“Why do I always feel like, in your heart, I can’t compare to someone who’s already dead?” Situ Ye asked quietly.

Lin Ze chuckled. “And in your heart, I can’t compare to your dreams. We’re even.”

At that moment, Lin Ze was drunk. A strange feeling welled up in his heart—he had sensed it earlier when Situ Ye argued with him about “why they hadn’t gotten together.” He knew Situ Ye had always had feelings for him; otherwise, he wouldn’t have stuck around so persistently. And his own feelings for Situ Ye? He couldn’t articulate them, but he sensed one thing: if their relationship warmed up even slightly, they would inevitably fall in love.

Lin Ze had always only believed in “in love” or “not in love.” Rarely had he encountered this 99°C water—one more degree, and it would boil. He knew Situ Ye’s feelings were also a tangled mess. Given Situ Ye’s attitude, no matter where he threw them, it would cause trouble. Two tangled messes intertwined would only create an even bigger mess.

That night, they went back and drank until they were completely wasted. Only Situ Ye drank moderately. He called a cab and carried all three of them into it, taking them back to Lin Ze and Zheng Jie’s place.

The next morning, Lin Ze woke up with a splitting headache. As he got up, he realized he’d been stripped down to his underwear. Situ Ye was sleeping beside him. Lin Ze’s breath hitched.

Lin Ze got out of bed and looked at Situ Ye, who was sharing the same blanket. Recalling last night’s conversation, he tugged at his underwear—this wasn’t the pair he’d been wearing yesterday!

Lin Ze felt as if he’d been struck by lightning. The awkwardness was indescribable. What the hell happened?! He had never believed in those TV drama tropes where people drunkenly slept together. What a joke! He didn’t know about others, but Lin Ze was certain he wouldn’t have sex while blackout drunk.

Lin Ze got out of bed and saw yesterday’s boxers lying on the floor, stained with a slick fluid. His entire being short-circuited.

“Stop pretending to sleep,” Lin Ze demanded. “What the hell happened?”

Situ Ye opened his eyes. “I’ll take responsibility, A’Ze.”

Lin Ze: “…”

Lin Ze felt like his life was an absolute mess. Never in his life had he encountered anything more awkward than this. God, what even is this?! His face burned red, and he couldn’t even begin to formulate a response. He quickly pulled on his long johns and a long-sleeved shirt and stormed out.

In the living room, an even more shocking sight awaited—Zheng Jie lay on the sofa, having vomited all over the floor. The remnants of last night’s chaos hadn’t been cleaned up. Lin Ze was about to lose it. The door to Zheng Jie’s room was slightly ajar, and Zhao Yuhang was asleep on his bed.

Okay, okay… Lin Ze hurried to brush his teeth and wash his face. Situ Ye yawned and stood behind Lin Ze, watching him in the mirror. Lin Ze’s brain seemed to short-circuit. He measured his own height against Situ Ye’s with his hand and suddenly asked, “How tall are you?”

“176 cm,” Situ Ye replied flatly.

Lin Ze was 177 cm. He then asked, “Did you… did I do it to you? Who was the top?”

Situ Ye didn’t answer and turned to leave. Lin Ze immediately shut the bathroom door, trapping Situ Ye inside. “What happened last night?”

Situ Ye laughed, looked at Lin Ze, and stroked his chin. “Little brother A’Ze, what do you think?”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Lin Ze protested. “This isn’t a joke. Did you… change my underwear?”

Situ Ye chuckled and reached for the broom, but Lin Ze blocked the doorframe firmly. “Tell me what happened.”

Situ Ye offered lightly, “Nothing much. You just cried while hugging me…”

Lin Ze’s patience finally snapped. “Go to hell—!”

Situ Ye scrambled to escape, nearly knocking over the coffee table in his haste. Zheng Jie, startled awake, stumbled drunkenly to the bathroom. Inside, Zhao Yuhang also woke up. Chaos ensued. Zheng Jie came out to sweep and mop the floor while Zhao Yuhang called from the bathroom, “A’Ze, do you have a toothbrush?”

Zheng Jie exclaimed, “Yeah! I do! Hold on!” He stopped mopping mid-task to fetch a toothbrush for Zhao Yuhang.

Lin Ze took the fallen mop from Zheng Jie to clean up the mess. Situ Ye came out holding Lin Ze’s underwear, which Lin Ze snatched and rushed to the balcony to toss into the washing machine. He then threw Zheng Jie’s dirty clothes and his own in as well.

“Just a little accidental discharge,” Situ Ye laughed. “Don’t be so tense.”

Lin Ze nodded, glancing at Situ Ye. That explanation made sense—he hadn’t masturbated in nearly half a month, nor had he had sex. It must have been a wet dream.

“I…” Lin Ze thought for a moment, wanting to address last night’s conversation, when he suddenly remembered something. “What time is it? Shit, I’m going to be late!”

“I already called in sick for you,” Situ Ye told him.

Lin Ze sighed in relief. This early-morning rollercoaster was driving him insane.

As the washing machine hummed to life, Situ Ye poured in detergent and disinfectant. Lin Ze closed the lid and asked, “Did I say anything weird last night?”

Situ Ye countered, “I was about to ask you the same thing. Don’t you remember what you said?”

Lin Ze sidestepped Situ Ye and walked into the living room. Situ Ye immediately followed. “Hey, do you still mean what you said? Don’t walk away.”

“I didn’t say anything. What did I say?” Lin Ze finally regained the upper hand. Zheng Jie was heating milk and nearly spilled it all when the two bumped into him. Zhao Yuhang called out, “Where’s my luggage?”

The luggage was still in the car, so Situ Ye had to grab the keys and head out to retrieve it. “A’Ze, wait for me. I still have things to say.”

The situation was unbearably awkward, yet for some reason, Lin Ze felt like he’d been adrift at sea for months and had finally reached shore. The moment Situ Ye left, Lin Ze immediately called out, “Zheng Jie.”

Zheng Jie had heated milk and bread in the microwave and sat down to eat. Zhao Yuhang, now wearing Zheng Jie’s clothes (which were slightly too small), came out after showering. Lin Ze glanced at him and noticed a smug glint in his eyes.

“I think I took the jokes too far last night when I was drunk,” Lin Ze confessed to Zheng Jie, recounting his conversation with Situ Ye. Zheng Jie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, looking like a zombie.

Zheng Jie: “Okay then.”

Lin Ze made a pained expression. Zhao Yuhang commented, “A’Ze, my little brother seems to like you.”

Lin Ze snapped, “Hey, don’t stir the pot! Zhao Yuhang, don’t go spreading nonsense.”

Zhao Yuhang assured Lin Ze he wouldn’t say a word. Lin Ze slumped onto the table. Zheng Jie offered, “Situ Ye’s not bad. He suits you.”

Lin Ze shot Zheng Jie a look. Zhao Yuhang, eyes glued to the TV, added, “You’ve been too good to him. That’s your fault.”

“When have I been too good to him?” Lin Ze retorted.

Zhao Yuhang and Zheng Jie smiled without answering. Lin Ze always felt that no matter who he was with, he ended up being treated like the youngest. And honestly, age-wise, he was the youngest.

The phone rang. It was the editor-in-chief, demanding Lin Ze return to the office immediately—there was an issue with the article. Why have you been so absent-minded lately? Too slack. Lin Ze had no choice but to change quickly and take a cab to work.

An hour later, Situ Ye drove back. Lin Ze was already gone. Zheng Jie told him, “He told you to come to the office after eating.”

Situ Ye hummed absentmindedly. Zheng Jie and Zhao Yuhang burst into laughter. Situ Ye frowned. “What’s so funny?”

Zhao Yuhang nudged Zheng Jie, who nearly spat out his milk. The two of them laughed uncontrollably. Situ Ye snapped, “You’re insane!”

But then it dawned on him. He pressed, “What did A’Ze say?”

Zheng Jie’s phone rang. He jumped as if electrocuted. “Holy—shit! I’m screwed, so screwed!” He scrambled to gather his things and rushed out to work. Situ Ye called after him, “Wait! Zheng Jie! I’ll give you a ride!”

Zhao Yuhang protested, “What about me? Hey!”

Situ Ye left. Zheng Jie and Lin Ze were both at work, leaving Zhao Yuhang with no one to keep him company. He was utterly miserable.

At 10 a.m., Lin Ze boarded the light rail and spotted a gay couple playing with their phones. The man on the left was likely the top—wearing a wrinkled shirt, gray slacks, and dress shoes, his face pockmarked with acne scars. He was thin, probably in his mid-thirties, neither tall nor handsome, just an ordinary, overworked office worker squeezing onto the subway. A few white hairs peeked out, and he stood just over 170 cm—a typical Chongqing everyman.

The one on the right was fair-skinned and clean-cut but scrawny, looking like a student—probably the bottom. The bottom held the top’s phone sideways to play a game while the top draped an arm over his shoulder, watching the screen affectionately.

“Once you move into the dorm, don’t fight with your roommates,” the top advised. “No one’s going to indulge you there.”

The bottom nodded. “What about you?”

The top said, “I’ll call you when I get back.”

Lin Ze held onto the handrail, glancing at their phone as they played Angry Birds. The top showed the bottom how to knock over the pigs, and the two laughed together. Lin Ze smiled too.

At a stop, half the train emptied. Lin Ze sat across from them, his mind now blank, simply observing the couple.

The bottom wasn’t particularly handsome either, wearing glasses, but young men always had a certain clean aura. He looked like an ordinary college student, a worn duffel bag at his feet. Lin Ze guessed he might be heading to Shapingba to start the new semester. But the bottom seemed poor—unlikely to have just arrived from Jiangbei Airport.

The top glanced at Lin Ze and smiled before returning to the game. “Did you text your parents?”

“Yeah,” the bottom replied without looking up.

The top asked, “What did you tell them? They called your dorm last night, right?”

“Mhm,” the bottom confirmed. “I told them I was at my brother’s place—a sworn brother.”

The top nodded. With only Lin Ze across from them, the top leaned in and kissed the bottom’s forehead.

Lin Ze caught the gesture from the corner of his eye. From their conversation, he guessed the bottom had come before the Lantern Festival, spent the night at the top’s place, and was now being escorted to school. Would they last? The older man seemed serious, but young gay men new to the scene often flirted around while they were still desirable. Handsome ones never lacked bed partners. Over time, they grew weary and jaded, craving stability but unsure how to settle down.

Most gay men in their thirties wanted someone willing to live a steady life. But with a college student who hadn’t yet dipped into the scene, the only option was to shield him from it and pray he wouldn’t succumb to temptation. After all, feelings inevitably faded—hence the seven-year itch.

Lin Ze stared at his phone for a while. At the next stop, passengers streamed out, but he remained seated, wanting to call Situ Ye. Before he could, Situ Ye called first.

“Where are you? Weren’t you supposed to wait for me at home?” Situ Ye demanded.

Lin Ze stepped out of the subway station. “The editor called as soon as you left to get the car. Hurry up and come to work.”

“Fine.” Situ Ye’s tone was clearly displeased before he hung up. Lin Ze stood in the station, unsure what to do. In the end, he could only collect himself and head to work.

As he climbed the stairs to the exit, sunlight flooded the world, painting the sky a deep blue. At that moment, his mood lifted. He thought back to the gloom after his first breakup, the aimlessness of not meeting anyone serious for so long, Xie Chenfeng’s departure, and his first meeting with Situ Ye. Even if they weren’t lovers, such serendipitous encounters were rare. Having someone to share life’s joys with was a blessing.

Lin Ze bought two breakfast sets at McDonald’s and took the elevator up to the newspaper office.

But the moment he stepped in, his temper flared. A reporter had covered a domestic violence case the day before—a divorcing couple threatening to chop their child in half to share custody. The subjects had stormed into the office, demanding compensation for defamation. Lin Ze had reviewed the piece before the holiday and advised against publishing it. First, the child was hospitalized with no visitors allowed, so the situation was unclear. The reporter had only seen bloodstains and heard neighbors’ accounts—hardly objective. Second, the story was too sensational. Even if Lin Ze wanted to run it, he’d need firsthand verification. He’d told the reporter to draft another piece instead.

Whether out of laziness or anger, the reporter had published it anyway. Now the child’s father, suspicious after spotting journalists, had read the paper and come to raise hell, dragging in the president, editor-in-chief, and even the director.

Lin Ze was caught in the crossfire. Though he’d approved the layout, he’d explicitly told the reporter to swap the story before leaving to pick up Zhao Yuhang. Now, he had to discuss with the editor whether to issue a correction in today’s edition.

“Can you shove shit back up your ass?! Can you?!” the president roared. “Lin Ze, what kind of solution is this? Publish today, retract tomorrow?! Is this how you handle things?!”

Lin Ze almost laughed at the absurdity of the president’s outburst but held it in. The whole mess suddenly felt less infuriating. But what else could they do? The man was clearly here to extort money—demanding compensation for emotional distress, defamation… If they paid once, he’d keep coming back for more.

The director hurried to apologize to the president, who then took charge. Lin Ze stood by, apologizing to the aggrieved party, who insisted on payment. Lin Ze’s patience wore thin.

The president, stubborn as ever, was willing to apologize but refused to pay. He turned to Lin Ze. “You handle this.”

Lin Ze had little sympathy for domestic abusers—having grown up with an abusive father himself. But as the saying goes, Even an honest official can’t settle family disputes. No outsider had the right to interfere in another’s household. Back when his own father had nearly beaten him to death, the neighbors had only offered token dissuasion. Chinese tradition upheld spare the rod, spoil the child and better to avoid trouble.

After a moment, Lin Ze decided to ignore the troublemaker and went to his office for coffee.

The man wailed outside, held back by security. The reporter who’d messed up hid behind his monitor, not daring to look up. Lin Ze sipped his coffee. “The president asked: Can you shove shit back up your ass?”

The office erupted in laughter. Lin Ze checked his watch—Situ Ye still hadn’t arrived. Outside, the man alternated between crying and cursing, drawing curious glances from editors at the neighboring New Women’s Daily.

By 11 a.m., the man’s voice had weakened. He repeatedly threw a can of Jiaduobao herbal tea against the wall, the noise grating on Lin Ze’s nerves. The editor-in-chief approached. “Lin Ze! Aren’t you going to resolve this? Your problem-solving skills are lacking!”

Lin Ze knew his bonus was as good as gone this month. Since he’d already been scolded and fined, he might as well let everyone endure the noise together. But he also knew when to stop. “I’ll handle it before lunch,” he promised.

The editor nodded and left. The entire office watched Lin Ze, waiting to see how he’d get rid of the man. Lin Ze flipped through his contacts and dialed a police captain he’d interviewed before—the subject of a past article about a shootout with a murderer. After explaining the situation, the captain agreed readily. “I’ll send two officers over.”

At 11:15, two detectives arrived. “Come with us to the hospital,” one of them instructed the man. “Once we verify the facts, you can come back for your compensation.” The man panicked. Lin Ze rushed out to intervene, but the officers had already escorted him into the elevator.

The issue was resolved faster than sweeping the floor. Lin Ze knocked on the editor’s door. “He’s gone.”

The president left. The editor-in-chief acted as if nothing had happened. “Go work on your feature.”

Lin Ze returned to the office. “No need to shove shit back up.”

Thank goodness. The entire office exhaled in relief. Lin Ze realized he’d been so busy he hadn’t checked his phone—six missed calls, all from Situ Ye.

He called back. “A’Ze, where are you? Why didn’t you pick up?”

Lin Ze answered, “At work, where else? Come have lunch.”

Situ Ye’s voice trembled. “I crashed the car—couldn’t steer properly. My arm’s broken. They’re making me call the newspaper to pay for the damages. Can you come? I’m at the hospital…”

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  419 means one night stand