“You clueless fool who doesn’t know the height of heaven or the depth of the earth—get lost!”
A basin of ice-cold water splashed over him.
Jiang Xiuyuan was chased out of the Yuan Sheng Clubhouse, looking utterly bedraggled as he wiped the water from his body. Even his lips had turned faintly purple.
He spat on the ground, his eyes burning with resentment.
A few colleagues nearby draped a coat over his shoulders and chuckled. “Who told you to mess with the Bo Family?”
“Lost your job, huh?”
It was the same old lines, over and over.
But Jiang Xiuyuan said nothing. He simply picked up his Hermès bag and walked away, his lips cracked and bleeding.
He wasn’t sure if they were inflamed or what.
In the public restroom mirror at the subway station, his slightly long black hair draped over his shoulders, and the lip piercing seemed to have nearly worn through the skin.
Jiang Xiuyuan washed his face, his expression cold as he prepared to remove it. But in that instant, for some reason, he suddenly remembered that guy named Qi Jing.
—Your lip piercing looks nice.
The young man suddenly smiled.
Then he straightened up, not feeling much about it.
President Bo was a good man; there was no way he’d make things hard for a mere host like him. It was just that the higher-ups were afraid of inviting trouble.
It was really strange, though.
The people around a good man… seemed well-behaved too.
“Yuan Sheng Clubhouse?”
Qi Jing yawned as he packed his schoolbag at the desk, mumbling to himself.
Why did he feel like he’d heard of the place before?
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Auntie called out, “Little Jing, it’s seven o’clock. Hurry up.”
“Coming—”
Qi Jing hastily zipped up his schoolbag, changed into his school uniform, and took the elevator down to the first floor.
Breakfast was already prepared.
He drank his milk while tapping open an egg. Since he was peeling it too slowly, Auntie took over.
“How come you got up so late this time?”
Qi Jing said apologetically, “I don’t know. I didn’t hear the alarm.”
Once Auntie had peeled it, she placed it on his plate. She glanced at the red, swollen spot on the young man’s forehead—it was almost completely healed.
As Qi Jing ate, he thought to himself that he hoped Bo Chengyan would only stay for one meal next week. Otherwise, he’d be so exhausted.
His Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays… felt like they were all being devoured.
Leaving only the despair of Monday.
As he was about to head out, Auntie called him back.
The young man returned to the entryway, where she fastened the smart wristband on his wrist.
“Go on. The driver’s waiting, and there’s vitamins in your schoolbag. Take them during break.
“There’s also a pipa tangerine.”
Qi Jing nodded and got into the car.
The high schools in the Capital City were divided into tiers—one, three, six, nine, etc. Public ones had stricter entry requirements in some ways; money alone couldn’t always smooth the path.
Although Qi Jing attended a top high school, he was in the International Department—the one where money could get you in.
The outside reputation wasn’t great, but he was quite content. If Bo Chengyan really threw him into the main campus, he’d have an even harder time keeping up.
Qi Jing had no grand ambitions. He didn’t think he could study abroad. Once the protagonist arrived, he’d step aside anyway.
So, aim for an undergraduate degree, take the civil service exam!
Or become a librarian.
Either way, just take good care of himself.
With those thoughts, he entered the classroom. It was single desks for each student. He sat in the third row by the wall, pulling out his chair.
Just then, he felt someone touch his hair. The young man frowned and dodged slightly, leaving the hand grasping at air.
It didn’t touch his face.
“Little Jing, good morning.”
The person in the front row pulled out his chair and sat down, turning back to look at him.
Qi Jing clutched his schoolbag, staring calmly. “Don’t touch my head.”
Seeing his reaction, Huang Ze felt like a feather had tickled his heart. He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Oh, afraid you won’t grow tall? No big deal.”
Qi Jing shook his head, not keen on engaging. He pulled out last week’s homework.
He had chosen politics, history, and geography—subjects with few career paths—but those were the ones he was good at.
Geography was the only tricky one.
Everything else was fine.
Huang Ze snatched Qi Jing’s homework and grinned. “Little Jing, let me copy it.”
Qi Jing looked at him again, seemingly puzzled, his brows furrowed.
“Aren’t you going to do it yourself?”
He asked it straightforwardly, like reading from a textbook.
A few more people trickled into the class. Some were used to it, merely shaking their heads when they glanced over.
“I didn’t have time to do it. Just copying. Don’t be so stingy, Little Jing.”
Qi Jing replied, utterly baffled, “If you didn’t have time, that’s your problem. Why copy mine?”
“I’m not stingy.”
After thinking, he added.
“Hahaha…” A girl walked over, snatched the homework back, and placed it where it belonged.
“You love stealing Little Jing’s stuff. Freshman year, sophomore year, and now senior year too. Impressive.”
The girl stood squarely in the aisle by the desk, declaring righteously, “Not giving it to you.”
The boy in front panicked instantly, his composure cracking. “Hey, Jiang Yao, what does this have to do with you?
“Little Jing didn’t say no.”
Early reading started at eight, and they had to hand in last week’s homework. There was a weekly quiz that afternoon.
Qi Jing mentally reviewed his missions, then ended the topic. “I don’t want you to copy.”
Huang Ze’s defenses shattered even more.
All the way until the midday break, he was still asking, “Little Jing, why? Aren’t I your good friend?”
Qi Jing was a transfer student, his family background kept under wraps. He never mentioned it himself.
He could’ve been seen as one of those pretentious types.
But strangely, Qi Jing’s pure nature made everyone treat him like a treasure.
He’d never watched porn.
Never copied homework.
Didn’t even like playing on his phone.
Qi Jing was like a blank sheet of paper, a unique little green sprout in Class 9—though he had watched some by now.
Huang Ze still remembered how earnestly Qi Jing had asked if he had any gay porn. His heart had pounded, sweat beading on his forehead. In the end, he’d given him his prized collection.
“Looks so tiring.”
That had been Qi Jing’s verdict, his expression unchanged.
Calm as still water.
Huang Ze thought he was gay, but suspected he didn’t even know what that meant. Yet how did he know about gay stuff? Was he trying to embarrass him? In the end, Huang Ze had been the one blushing furiously.
Qi Jing was like a mysterious little cat.
During the break—
“No. If you copy my homework, the teacher will suspect me. She’ll tell my family.”
“I’m taking a risk here.”
Qi Jing swallowed his vitamins with his thermos, then slowly peeled the pipa tangerine. The air around him filled with a sweet fragrance.
Huang Ze actually wanted a segment but didn’t dare ask—Qi Jing’s rejections were brutally direct.
He was afraid of cracking again.
“So what? Your family cares about copying homework? That’s too strict. They don’t even check your weekly quiz report card, do they?” Huang Ze didn’t buy it, asking loudly.
Qi Jing looked at him quietly.
Bo Chengyan called his homeroom teacher every week. Of course they checked the weekly quiz report cards. They also monitored his friendships, whether he was being bullied, and so on.
His weight needed to gain 1KG this week per the plan.
The tangerine was actually a pipa tangerine, juicy and easy to peel.
A warm voice came from the left. “Little Jing, give me a segment?”
Qi Jing broke off half and handed it over. Huang Ze’s eyes went wide. Then a girl’s voice sounded from behind.
“I want some too.”
Qi Jing thought about it— he couldn’t really offer the half he’d already eaten from—so he split the remaining half into two and passed them out separately.
Behind him was Jiang Yao, to the left was Lin Yuze, and in front was Huang Ze.
They’d formed an encirclement.
“What about me?”
The guy in front collapsed dramatically. “Where’s mine? You gave them some.”
Qi Jing suddenly looked troubled. He only had one tangerine. He’d eaten just two segments.
Lin Yuze didn’t even look up. “Stick out your hand. I’ll spit it back.”
“Gross!”
Qi Jing ended up eating that half himself, since someone else was schooling Huang Ze for him.
“Copying the smart guy, huh? He only has a few, and you still want some.”
“I swear, you asked first!”
“That was when he had most of it left. He was happy to give me some.”
…
They bickered on, while Jiang Yao chatted with the other girls about nail art behind them. Once Qi Jing finished his tangerine, he turned to his geography problems.
He’d never seen such a bizarre subject.
He still remembered that question about the urban greenbelt—one side lush and green, the other withered and yellow. He’d seriously pondered latitude, longitude, and climate.
The answer? Different administrative districts on either side.
Qi Jing had never been so furious.
“…Yuan Sheng Clubhouse? Wait, you went there… “
“To do that? Wanna go today? School’s got a bunch of Japanese visitors, so no evening self-study…”
“Little Jing, you in… “
Qi Jing merely lifted his eyes. He knew it sounded familiar. Sure enough.
“Yuan Sheng Clubhouse?” the young man asked.
Jiang Yao had a lollipop in her mouth. She frowned hesitantly. “Maybe we shouldn’t bring Little Jing. What if it corrupts him?”
Qi Jing frowned. “Why?”
“Uh, ’cause I’m gonna book a male model.”
Huang Ze rolled his eyes dramatically but didn’t deny it. “Just don’t go. That place isn’t good.”
“It has high-end areas and low-end ones. Super picky about it.”
Qi Jing had no idea about any of this. He had simply recalled what Bo Chengyan had once told him about the small path and the broad avenue. Did men liking other men count as the small path?
Those male models must be the broad avenue.
But what about women with women? Was that also the small path?
He was truly baffled, especially after Bo Chengyan had told him outright that he didn’t like him that way. Qi Jing couldn’t shake a nagging worry that he might be replaced.
He decided to head back to Little Bird’s stomping grounds and learn a thing or two.
“I’ve been there before.”
All three of his friends froze in shock.
But the boy wasn’t done. With wide-eyed curiosity, he pressed on. “Besides male models, can you order anything else? When it’s guys with guys, what do they call that? Renting a duck?”
Huang Ze’s face flushed beet red. He lunged forward to clap a hand over Qi Jing’s mouth, only for Lin Yuze to shove him away with clear disgust. “Did you even wash your hands?”
Jiang Yao just tsked in admiration. “Little Jing, you really are one of a kind.”
Qi Jing wanted to rent a duck. He wanted to ask how the job worked.
In all seriousness, he asked, “Can you take me with you?”
Going alone would probably be a hassle, but with friends, it would be a breeze.
Even Lin Yuze paused in surprise.
Jiang Yao, however, waved a hand with grand flair. “You got it! Let’s all go!”
Qi Jing returned to Brocade River Villas for lunch that afternoon. He let Auntie know he’d be hanging out with classmates after school, and she didn’t make a fuss. She simply reminded him to coordinate the timing ahead with Uncle Driver.
Home by nine o’clock would be fine.
There was the GPS tracker, after all. Plus, Mr. Bo was well aware of Qi Jing’s social circle.
And a bit of socializing was good for a teenager’s mental health.
The clock ticked toward five in the afternoon.
School let out.
Qi Jing piled into the car with his friends and headed to the spot. He brimmed with curiosity, having swapped his school uniform for casual clothes he’d packed at lunch.
The Yuan Sheng Clubhouse looked the same as ever—its gilded facade screaming extravagance, a veritable money pit.
Qi Jing quickly realized this visit felt worlds apart. No escort this time, and the entrance wasn’t familiar at all.
The alleyway was narrow and dim, with raucous noise spilling out from inside.
A server stood guard at the door, collecting all electronic devices.
Qi Jing brought up the rear of their little group and came to a halt, staring.
He hadn’t seen this coming.
Jiang Yao glanced back and urged him on. “Little Jing? Come on! It’s no big deal—private rooms inside, totally safe. Promise!”
Qi Jing furrowed his brow. He didn’t want to cause his friends any trouble. With a reluctant sigh, he slipped off his Smart Wristband and dropped it into the numbered black box.
It should be okay, right?
Thirty minutes later, the temperature-sensitive Smart Wristband lost contact with his skin. An alarm triggered, and the corresponding dot on the internal map began to blink rapidly.
Bo Chengyan was in the middle of a meeting when his phone buzzed with the alert. He frowned faintly.
