Whenever some old principal droned on about their class ranking, Ban Wei would seethe inwardly and spit, “Show-off.”
Thanks to mascot Li Ran, they’d climbed to second-to-last last time—just two points above dead last. Ban Wei was riding high, parading around the office three times a day, subtly bragging about his class.
He even dragged down the bottom class: “Wonder which unlucky bunch is last this time. Poor things, tsk tsk.”
After days of barely contained glee, Ban Wei was full of vigor at work lately, arriving early and leaving late.
Just like today. While the rowdy kids slacked, he poked his head in the back door, nabbing examples left and right.
Facing his star pupil, Ban Wei’s face softened. He stopped mid-rant, beaming oily-smiled: “Little Prince Li Ran, sit down and study hard.”
The class went dead silent for a beat, then erupted in laughter.
For a long while after, A’Dai was out—”Little Prince” followed Li Ran everywhere.
“Little Prince” Li Ran shivered in horror for two full minutes, nearly cursing out the homeroom teacher too.
That’s when Qi Zhi walked in. He missed the cursing and Ban Wei’s tirade, only catching that Li Ran was the Little Prince.
Following the crowd, he burst out laughing before his butt hit the seat, doubled over his desk like a lunatic.
Ban Wei’s line about “mismatched adult clothes” stuck with Li Ran. Pulling his attention from his suit-induced shame, he noticed everyone else trying to leap from puberty to adulthood, dressed all mature and sharp.
Everyone was “proper.”
The school allowed it, so of course.
Zhang Si wore what was probably his dad’s suit—similar height, but a bit wider in build.
That’s the kid stealing adult clothes, yet he dared laugh at Li Ran.
Li Ran rolled up his math test into a tube and whacked Zhang Si. Qi Zhi was laughing hysterically, mouth agape, so Li Ran gave him one too.
After class, a text from Chi Mo.
Chi Mo: [I’m coming to pick you up. Change back into your regular clothes.]
Li Ran thought his brother was sick too—he wanted to whack him.
Li Ran: [No way.]
Chi Mo really was unwell. He’d been in a foul mood all day, unable to work, his mind full of post-change Li Ran. Staring at him like a starving wolf or demon, wanting to pounce and lick him all over.
But others?
Others can’t look.
No one else could look!
But Li Ran refused.
He had to respect the kid’s wishes.
Chi Mo pinched his brow, silently praising his own patience for the umpteenth time.
“What’s up?” Shen Shu barged in without knocking, face full of gossip. “Li Ran dating someone?”
Chi Mo: “Get out.”
Shen Shu yanked open a desk drawer stocked with snacks—Chi Mo’s stash for Li Ran. Never ran out when he visited.
His hand got smacked away by a folder. Shen Shu rubbed his hand as the drawer shut. “So stingy. I heard you teaching your kid English dialogues—your mouth was filthy. Watch out, or I’ll tattle and show him your pervert side.”
Chi Mo wouldn’t mind: “Go ahead. Even without you, he’ll understand my dirty talk in any language soon enough.”
Shen Shu: “Shameless.”
Chi Mo: “What do you want?”
“Aren’t you having that dinner meeting this afternoon? Reminder not to forget,” Shen Shu came and went quick. “It’s your business anyway. Address is sent.”
While Chi Mo wined and dined for business, Li Ran was out on a group “date.”
The two-hour 100-Day Oath Rally left every young face solemn and grave. Whatever happened tomorrow, in that moment, they internalized “knowledge changes destiny,” swearing deep down to study and ace their exams.
Study till it kills you or you’re killed by studying; no need for long sleep in life when death brings eternal rest; one point’s difference is a thousand miles apart—these hot-blooded, cringey lines, carved into desks by generations of seniors, were inherited, retraced, and surged through their minds.
The rally ended, and the boys and girls scattered. Half the fervor faded. By the class gathering for food and drinks, the oaths were just dinner fodder—carefree as ever.
“A’Dai—no, Little Prince! Little Prince, why’re you trying so hard lately? You’re stressing me out. Can you slack off…? Nah, keep going, bro. Can’t drag you into three-thousand-a-month hell,” Zhang Si slapped Li Ran’s shoulder. A bit of fruit beer and he was slurring, teary-eyed. “Drink with me, Little Prince. Cheers!”
Li Ran clinked his soda like booze, fooling the lightweight who poured and passed out after one.
Feeling half-guilty, he explained, “Can’t drink. Not till Lunar February next year when I turn adult… Parents are strict. Gotta obey.”
Zhang Si’s face red as a baboon butt: “Good boy.”
“Three thousand a month,” Zhang Youde scoffed. “You think those jobs are easy to get? Under three thousand, workhorses everywhere. Plenty waiting if you don’t.”
Zhang Si wailed outright.
They were in the KTV, with classmates howling into the microphone like wailing ghosts and howling wolves. Zhang Si’s alcohol-fueled sobs couldn’t cut through the neon lights and haze of booze.
At first listen, it even sounded like background music.
But Li Ran sat right next to Zhang Si, and the demonic wailing pierced his ears. He jolted in surprise and immediately scooted away.
It wasn’t disdain—just that he inexplicably recalled the last time he’d wailed like that, back when he was twelve.
Now that he was grown up, Li Ran would never cry like a blubbering mess no matter what.
Qi Zhi nudged Li Ran with his elbow and called out with a grin, “Little Prince.”
Li Ran wanted to smack him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Want me to take you somewhere?” Qi Zhi said mysteriously.
As they left, Zhang Si’s crying showed no signs of stopping. He clung to Zhang Youde with hands and feet, demanding his money back. He insisted Zhang Youde owed him two billion, while Zhang Youde grumbled curses—before even inheriting the family fortune, he was already two billion in the hole. He let Zhang Si cling to him in utter despair.
“Where are we headed?” As soon as Li Ran stepped onto the roadside with Qi Zhi, the non-stop emo songs blasting in his ears were flung away. It felt refreshing.
Qi Zhi pointed to the side. “There.”
Qing Bar—that was its name.
Li Ran took one glance and yanked his gaze away as if scalded. He didn’t want to go in.
From Qi Zhi’s earlier explanations, he knew exactly what kind of place this sleekly decorated Qing Bar was. Qi Zhi had brought it up several times, saying he wanted to show Li Ran a different side of the world.
“Come on, come on, it’s no big deal. We’ll be out in a bit. Qing Bar’s quiet—not some sleazy dive. I know you live with your cousin, and he picks you up from school all the time. I wouldn’t dare step on his toes. Just wanna show you around, that’s all.” Qi Zhi slung an arm over Li Ran’s shoulder and gave him a gentle push forward.
Today, his eyes kept drifting involuntarily toward Li Ran. “…A’Dai, you really only like girls?”
Li Ran had no answer for Qi Zhi’s question.
He’d never liked anyone before—how was he supposed to know? Plus, that word “only” made it sound like there was something wrong with him. Li Ran hated when people implied that.
“I’m normal,” Li Ran said.
By the time he spoke, Qi Zhi had already shoved him inside the Qing Bar. His whole body tensed up instantly.
The music was mellow, the decor minimalist, and men were everywhere. If Li Ran hadn’t known what the place was beforehand, he might not have thought twice about it. But now that he did, a narrow gate slammed shut in his mind, leaving him prickly and uncomfortable all over.
Qi Zhi could tell he was seriously out of his element. He teased him lightly with a chuckle and promptly led him back out.
The whole visit lasted less than twenty minutes.
Li Ran remembered nothing of the scenes inside—just that it was all men.
Not a single woman.
As soon as they stepped out, a cold gust of wind hit them. Li Ran’s rigid thoughts began to thaw, his mind starting to work again. But the next second, they froze even harder.
The Cullinan was parked at the curb. Chi Mo pushed open the car door and stepped out, his face dark as a storm cloud, his gaze icy and locked dead on Li Ran.
He first scanned Li Ran’s face, then his clothes. Once he confirmed the boy’s expression wasn’t off and his outfit unchanged, he glanced at the place Li Ran had just emerged from. Then, with supreme restraint, he pulled out his phone to check his messages.
Li Ran’s last text had come two hours earlier: [Bro, the class is going out for singing and dinner. Address sent. It’s close to home, so it shouldn’t be late—probably still light out. I’ll head back on my own.]
Chi Mo had replied with a “Good,” praising him for being obedient.
And now, the obedient kid he’d praised was at a Qing Bar with another guy—clearly up to no good, chatting about orientations.
Chi Mo didn’t spare Qi Zhi a single glance.
He calmly beckoned Li Ran over.
Li Ran waited as his blood turned to ice, trembling as he shuffled closer. Chi Mo couldn’t wait another half-second—he seized Li Ran’s wrist in a grip that was downright rough and shoved him into the car.
Li Ran couldn’t figure out why he was so terrified. Chi Mo’s face was ashen; just looking at it made him quake.
Grandpa and Grandma were home. It’d be fine.
He hoped Grandpa and Grandma were home—not out having fun right now.
It’d definitely be okay…
He’d only gone to the Qing Bar, hadn’t mentioned it ahead of time. It wasn’t a crime.
He kept reassuring himself the whole ride. Though he didn’t dare speak, his heart finally settled a bit. But when they got home and Chi Mo coldly dragged him to the study, his heart leaped back into his throat.
“Bro…”
Chi Mo said nothing. He pinned Li Ran down and yanked his pants down.
Li Ran went blank.
Then two heavy slaps landed on his butt—hot, stinging pain and numbness exploding. Li Ran’s eyes went wide as saucers, his mind even more dazed.
Another two brutal smacks followed. Li Ran’s wide eyes turned red.
His lips quivered, and he let out an “Ah!”
He cried.
