Li clearly remembered his own memorial service.

The location was a grand hall, adorned with black drapes and white flowers, surrounding a large “In Memorial” character. Below this character were three bold black-and-white portraits of him and his two brothers, each positioned above a flag-covered urn, with his own on the left.

He was the youngest, and like his brothers, he had died with honor.

In the photos, he was smiling in a field; his brothers were also smiling, while the others stood below, crying.

So, when he woke up with a throbbing pain at his temples, he quickly realized that he’d somehow transmigrated—life’s gift was the ability to feel pain.

Before he could feel relief, he noticed he was dressed in thigh-high shorts and fishnet stockings, with a sparkling navel ring. It hurt a bit when he touched it. Was it freshly pierced?

Why the piercing?

After three minutes of shock came the understanding, accompanied by a wave of sacrificial pain and strange thrill. He recalled a saintly declaration, “Let my brothers have their joy first!”

He wondered if his brothers had transmigrated too. Either way, he’d honor them—How can one be alone? Together we stand.

Determined to confirm his suspicions, he reached down to check his own situation, only to realize something was amiss.

With some hesitation, he tugged at his short’s zipper and then peeked under his thong, frozen with shock.

He was still a man.

But why?

In just seconds, his mind spun in multiple directions. Finally, he understood: this body, this person, was selling fishnet stockings.

In winter, no less, dressed like this to make a living—it’s no easy life. Hard work is honorable; lazing is shameful. Life is trudging down a muddy road in spiked shoes, step by step. Social status may vary, but no job is beneath another; selling stockings was a legitimate business.

Someone next to him was gently nudging him, whispering, “Cheng Cheng, Cheng Cheng.”

Irritated, he asked, “Who is Cheng Cheng?”

The other person chuckled, “You’re Cheng Cheng.”

“Cheng… what?”

The other person grew annoyed, “Can you stop joking? Aren’t you Cheng Ji?”

Oh, Cheng Ji… even the name was a blow. Selling stockings was one thing, but now this. How did the local registry even allow that name?

In the dim, suggestive lighting, he took a closer look at the person beside him, who was oddly dressed, neither male nor female but decent-looking.

He asked, “Who might you be?”

The other person rolled their eyes, “You’re not even drunk; why do you act like one? I’m Le Le.”

“Le Le… who?”

“Xu Le Le!” the person yelled.

Their raised voice caught the attention of someone sitting by the door, toying with a cigarette between their fingers, putting it to their lips and pulling it away without actually smoking. With their back to the light, their face was hidden, but they appeared long-haired and slender. However, their voice was clearly male.

“And you all still find it amusing,” the guy at the door said.

Le Le defended, “I’m not the one laughing, it’s him acting strange!”

The person by the door said, “He wasn’t causing any fuss; it’s all your voice filling the room.”

Li—or rather, now he’d be called Cheng Ji (with “Ba” omitted to suit the current clean-up policy)—noticed that the guy by the door was also dressed in ripped jeans and fishnet stockings. So he asked, “Did we meet through business?”

As in, both selling fishnet stockings?

The guy didn’t even want to look at him, and after a pause of about ten seconds, he replied irritably, “Yes, we’re business partners. Out here selling together.”

Cheng Ji turned to Le Le beside him. “Selling what?”

Le Le replied, “Selling… ourselves.”

Cheng Ji felt as if a bucket of absurdity had been dumped over his head, his vision blurring. After a long moment, he lifted his T-shirt to wipe the cold sweat.

He—

He didn’t believe it.

In his life, he’d only trusted three things: himself, his brothers, and his organization.

“So,” he asked, “what about the stockings?”

Le Le squinted at him. “What stockings, Cheng Cheng? Are you on drugs?”

Cheng Ji bowed his head and thought hard for a minute before asking, “Does ‘selling ourselves’ mean what I think it does?”

The person by the door seemed particularly annoyed with Cheng Ji, sneering, “Well, ‘Young Master Cheng,’ what else do you think it means? Looks like you’re not only on drugs but you’ve got memory loss too.”

Cheng Ji shot up from his seat and asked Le Le again, “Can you confirm for me what my identity is, and what yours is?”

Le Le repeated, “You and I are both, um, selling ourselves.”

Holding onto a final shred of hope, Cheng Ji asked, “To middle-aged wealthy women?”

Le Le laughed, “What’s wrong with you? Are you Sick? No, we’re selling to younger men. Do you think old folks could handle us?”

“…”

Cheng Ji sank back onto the sofa, but he missed his balance and slid right off onto the floor.

The guy by the door commented icily, “Young Master Cheng, you’re at the Moonlight Manor, the grandest money pit in Hong City. You’re a one-y-boy, or ‘b’ for short. Ring any bells?”

“…”

Cheng Ji resigned himself to lying flat on the floor, crossing his fingers over his chest in a trembling motion.

From this moment forward, he was as good as dead.

“Cheng Cheng, what’s wrong?” Le Le asked, concerned.

“Nothing.” Cheng Ji took several deep breaths. “I’m just waiting to die.”

In his previous life, he’d died covered in a flag. And now, what was this supposed to be?

A hero sacrifices for the country; an officer that serves the people. And here he was, reborn to… serve whom?

If someone would be so kind, just burn him right here. Scatter his ashes, don’t even keep them.

Le Le bent down, trying to console him. “Cheng Cheng, no need to be so anxious. Everyone has a first time. You were just telling me this afternoon that you were mentally prepared. Are you backing out now?”

Cheng Ji paused, propping himself halfway up. “First time?”

Le Le nodded, “Yeah, it’s your first day on the job! Unless you’ve done it before. But you haven’t, right? I mean, it’s all because your mom’s sick. You had no choice but to come here and sell yourself.”

Cheng Ji jolted up. “I have a mom?”

The guy by the door frowned and said, “Of course. Are you really this clueless? Who doesn’t have a mom? If the manager hadn’t felt sorry for you, do you think anyone would want to take you in? Do you know how much pressure we’re under bringing a college student into this place?”

“I’m… I’m a college student?” Cheng Ji asked.

Le Le’s expression turned serious. “Cheng Cheng, tell me honestly, what did you take? Although everyone in our line of work puts on an act, I still see you as a friend. Nothing in this place should be taken recklessly, especially anything given by clients. Has Manager Zhou not warned you? A tough life is better than no life.”

“No, no.” Cheng Ji waved his hand hurriedly. “I didn’t take anything.”

“Then what’s going on with you?” Le Le asked.

Cheng Ji replied, “Just now, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and I lost my composure. By the way, which university am I attending?”

“Ke Polytechnic, third year,” Le Le answered, “but you’ve already taken a leave of absence.”

“Hmm.”

The guy by the door scoffed, “Keep pretending. Acting. Performing. You’re about to lose everything, yet you still think you’re something special.” With that, he flicked his cigarette and left, leaving behind a flamboyant figure.

Le Le closed the door, sat back on the sofa, and leaned in close. “Cheng Cheng, what are you thinking? Don’t you want to pay for your mom’s treatment? If you don’t make a payment soon, they might pull the life support on her tomorrow, and then she’ll be gone, and you’ll be left alone. Aren’t you anxious?”

Cheng Ji said, “I’m anxious.”

Le Le said, “Then why are you acting like this? I didn’t bring you here to hurt you; I brought you here to help you. Other than drug dealing, nothing brings in money faster.”

Cheng Ji nodded.

Le Le continued, “No offense, but your mom is unlikely to make it. She’s entirely dependent on machines now, and realistically, she probably won’t last another month. But we can’t just rush her to die, right? No matter what, we need to keep her alive as long as we can. You sold your house to cover her treatments, and you don’t have a dad. When your mom dies, you’ll be left alone with nothing but debt, not even enough for a funeral. I could pitch in a few thousand, sure, but where would you get money for a burial plot?”

Cheng Ji nodded again.

“So, listen to me. Stick it out for six months. Not only will you clear your debt, but you might save up a little too. Then you can either start fresh or go back to school. As long as neither of us says anything, no one will ever know about this time in your life. And if anyone does find out, so what? Everyone has their struggles. Don’t worry. Even if you meet these clients later on, they won’t remember you. And even if they do, they won’t admit to it—they’d have to reveal they were clients.”

Cheng Ji said, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Le Le replied. “With looks like yours, you’re bound to be popular. No matter who you end up with or what you do, just wake up and act like nothing happened, got it?”

“I got it.”

Le Le sighed in relief. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Cheng Ji lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Le Le smiled. “No need to apologize. You’re new at this. Not everyone finds it easy to take the first step. I know you’re a good person, really kind, and here I am pulling you into this mess. Just don’t hate me.”

Cheng Ji replied, “I don’t hate you. I’m sorry.”

Because I’m about to knock you out and run. Don’t worry; when that manager and boss come after you, I’ll take all the blame.

Selling myself? Fine.

Selling to older women? Also fine. Making my brothers proud? A duty. But I will never sell myself to men. Absolutely, never. (Translators note: Weh? Weeehhhh)

Unwavering and resolute. Pure-hearted and honorable. Absolutely not.

Cheng Ji’s eyes grew fierce. He raised his hand, ready to knock Le Le unconscious with a precise hand chop to the back of the neck, when suddenly a mechanical voice pierced his ears.

‘Both leads are in place. Fifteen-minute countdown.‘

“…”

Cheng Ji lowered his hand and asked, “Who’s talking?”

“You’re talking,” Le Le replied.

“No, I heard a man speaking.”

‘Supporting characters are in place. Countdown: fourteen minutes and forty seconds.‘

The voice was flat and monotonous, clearly from a machine devoid of emotion.

Cheng Ji perked up. “See, it’s talking right now.”

“Cheng Cheng,” Le Le looked at him sympathetically, “you’re acting really strange today. You should go back, take a shower, clean up, and visit your mom. If the manager asks, I’ll cover for you.”

Of course, Cheng Ji knew he was acting strange. First, he’d traveled through time; then, in this life, he had a mother who was alive but on the brink of death. Lastly, he’d gone from being a celebrated police officer to a male escort.

Still, none of that felt as surreal as the countdown currently ticking in his brain.

‘Supporting extras are in place. Countdown: thirteen minutes and thirty seconds.‘

‘Cheng Ji is in place. Countdown: thirteen minutes and twenty seconds’.

‘Cheng Mou, Are you there? If you are, please respond. Cheng Mou, you have a line today. Just one line, but it involves the main character, so please respond. Cheng Mou, why aren’t you speaking? Cheng Ji, please respond.’

“…”

Cheng Ji asked Le Le, “Where’s the bathroom? I feel like I’m hearing things. I want to wash my face.”