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Friday, 3:00 p.m., a flyover along the Second Ring Road.
A white Range Rover Evoque that had broken down was parked on the roadside, its hood lifted. The owner bent over, checking where the problem might be.
Drivers passing by couldn’t help but glance over a few times. As the saying goes, a fine car should be paired with a beauty. The late autumn sunlight wasn’t dazzling, but it was warm and bright, falling across the car owner’s shoulder-length chestnut curls and pale profile. For a moment, it was as if the season itself came with a filter, scattering a dreamy glow.
A long black shirt hugged a narrow waist and lifted hips; slim jeans showed off long, straight legs. Martin boots with little silver buckles—stamped with the “C” brand logo—glinted along with the diamond studs by the beauty’s ears.
Unfortunately, the beauty was bent over, so no one could see the face.
“Hey, beauty,” before long, a Lexus SUV pulled over. The male driver lowered the window and called out warmly, “Need some help?”
The beauty straightened, turning his head toward him.
The SUV driver’s heart skipped—face gorgeous as well: large eyes, high nose, pale lips. The chest though… strangely flat.
The flat-chested beauty frowned in displeasure and muttered, “What’s with that look? How do I look like a woman?”
SUV man: “……” Except for the chest, everything else.
The beauty forced a stiff smile. “Well, could you take a look? I really can’t manage, and I’m in a rush. Thanks.”
The SUV driver, still in disbelief, got out. After several more glances he finally confirmed in disappointment—this really was a guy.
Still, he ducked under the hood and fiddled around, and only then did Fang Shiqing breathe a little easier.
The car had already been sputtering a few days ago when starting, but he hadn’t had time to take it in. Today he had a noon banquet that ran late, and at four he had an important meeting. Leaving the restaurant, he hurried home, only for the car to give out right then.
After a few minutes, the “enthusiastic” stranger straightened and said regretfully, “No good, you’ll need new parts. Better call the dealership.”
Seeing his hands smeared with grease, Fang Shiqing could only swallow his disappointment. He fetched some wet wipes from the car, handing them over. “Guess I’ll have to… Thanks, man.”
The SUV driver looked embarrassed. “Don’t thank me, I didn’t help much.”
After polite goodbyes, Fang Shiqing phoned the dealership while the man cleaned up and drove off.
By the time he finished the call, it was 3:20. He was definitely going to be late.
—How could he have mistaken a man taller than him for a woman? Zheng Qiuyang truly thought he’d gone blind.
Still, this guy was too pretty for a man. Not effeminate in speech or mannerisms, but dressed far from rugged. If not for the flat chest and low voice, he’d pass perfectly for a tall, beautiful girl.
Thinking this, Zheng Qiuyang couldn’t resist checking his rearview mirror. The man still stood anxiously by the hood, looking left and right.
Fang Shiqing was busy composing excuses for his late arrival when the SUV that had left earlier suddenly reversed back.
He stared in confusion at the driver.
Lowering his window again, the man asked, “You in a hurry?”
Fang Shiqing blinked. “…Huh?”
“If you’re in a rush, go on ahead. I’ll wait here for the dealership for you.”
Fang Shiqing: “……”
The stranger stretched an arm out the window, patting the door. “Here, take my car. Go. I’ll stay and guard yours.”
Fang Shiqing: “……”
The man said, “Hey, what’s with that face? I’m a good guy! Look—vehicle registration, photo matches me, right? And here’s my license, my ID card. See? All checks out.”
“…Yeah.” Fang Shiqing returned them. “Zheng Qiuyang?”
Zheng Qiuyang nodded cheerfully. “Right. Now give me your license, registration, and ID too.”
Fang Shiqing froze, still trying to process.
Leaning his arm on the window, Zheng Qiuyang urged, “Didn’t you say you were in a rush? Weren’t you panicking just a minute ago?”
Finally recovering, Fang Shiqing said, “But… I don’t even know you…”
“I don’t know you either,” Zheng Qiuyang replied matter-of-factly. “But isn’t this a coincidence? You’ve got urgent business. I don’t. I’ve got time. So you drive my car, I wait here for the repair guys, then later we switch back. Problem solved.”
Fang Shiqing couldn’t follow his logic. Maybe he’d gotten on the wrong flyover today.
By 6:30 p.m., after his meeting, Fang Shiqing immediately dialed the fresh new number in his contacts and arranged to swap cars back with Zheng Qiuyang.
Zheng’s car was much more expensive than his Evoque. The whole ordeal left Fang feeling like he owed the man a huge favor. However odd Zheng Qiuyang and the whole incident seemed, there was no denying that.
After hanging up, Fang slipped on his coat and left the office, only to run into Yuan Rui in the parking lot.
Yuan Rui was a C-list male model: good looks, tall, decent quality overall. But years in the modeling industry hadn’t gotten him anywhere. Age creeping up, he was edging past the golden years for models. Last year he tried transitioning into acting, snagging minor roles in soap operas. This year, though, his schedule had been empty for months, forcing him back into occasional magazine shoots to make ends meet.
It was during a shoot for the fashion magazine JOY Impressions that Fang Shiqing had first met him.
Fang was editor-in-chief of the fashion section. He rarely visited shoots, but that day he did. And no, sparks didn’t fly into scandalous passion—nothing like that.
It was more one-sided: Fang fell hard for Yuan Rui. Yuan Rui didn’t return the interest.
For two months Fang pursued him relentlessly—calls, texts, WeChat, Weibo, QQ. He sent flowers, diamonds, luxury goods, even thought of giving him a car. But before that, Yuan Rui handed him the “let’s just be friends” card.
Fang had grown up privileged—bookish family, both parents professors, an ambitious elder sister, and his own handsome face. In this era of connections and appearances, his life had been smooth sailing. No setbacks, no obstacles. His past romances had been easy: one hint from him, and the other party shyly reached out.
So this rejection was his first defeat. Of course he couldn’t give up so easily—he needed to know why.
After hemming and hawing, Yuan Rui admitted: “Editor Fang, to be straight with you—I have a boyfriend. Not just a hookup. A steady one.”
Fang didn’t believe it—he’d asked around before and confirmed Yuan Rui was single before pursuing him.
Yuan Rui explained, “I didn’t lie. We just got together. Only these past few days.”
Fang felt deflated. “So what’s he got that I don’t?”
“To be honest,” Yuan Rui said, “I was torn between you and him…”
Fang realized then: Yuan Rui hadn’t rejected him earlier because he was weighing his options.
Trying not to burn bridges in the small fashion world, Yuan Rui added gently, “Editor Fang, you’re a good guy… but I like taller men.”
Fang: “……”
He was 187 cm barefoot. Yuan Rui, in shoes, stood at 189.5. That excuse was just… laughable.
That had been over half a month ago. Fang hadn’t seen Yuan Rui since. But liking someone doesn’t fade that quickly. When he saw him again, his heart still skipped a beat.
Yuan Rui had just stepped out of his car, head down, on the phone.
Fang hesitated, then decided to greet him openly. As he stepped closer, Yuan Rui’s voice suddenly rose sharply on the call:
“If you won’t divorce, fine! But now you say this? You’re just playing me?”
Whatever the man on the other end said, Yuan Rui’s tone dropped again, soft, almost coaxing.
So the one who beat Fang was a married man? Fang frowned in disdain. Marriage fraud not only hurt women, but worsened society’s already poor acceptance of gay men. It was harmful all around.
Yuan Rui, murmuring into the phone, suddenly looked up and froze when he spotted Fang. His face turned awkward at once.
Fang forced a smile and said, “Off work already? What brings you here again?”
Yuan Rui hurriedly hung up, unnaturally flustered. “The photos from the other day didn’t work. The photographer asked me to reshoot.”
“Oh, I see.” Fang feigned indifference, unlocking his car as he added, “Well, go on then. See you.”
Yuan Rui nodded, then noticed the Lexus unlocking. “New car?”
Fang didn’t bother explaining. “No. A friend’s.”
Yuan Rui gave him a subtle look. “Boyfriend?”
Fang couldn’t tell what he meant. Saying yes or no both seemed like the wrong answer. So he only smiled mysteriously, offering no reply.