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Chapter Two

After meeting Zheng Qiuyang and swapping their cars back, Fang Shiqing, to show his thanks, treated him to dinner. A few days later, Zheng Qiuyang hosted him for drinks in return.

One thing led to another, and before long, the two became familiar with each other. Fang Shiqing was a fashion-design graduate who had studied abroad, while Zheng Qiuyang had spent two years overseas studying jewelry design. Neither of them ended up as actual designers, but as half-baked design majors, they still found plenty of common ground.

Both were Liverpool fans, both loved playing wargames, both listened to Adam, and both enjoyed old Shaw Brothers films. Their biggest difference in taste? Fang Shiqing preferred men, Zheng Qiuyang preferred women with big chests.

That said, even though they got along well, Fang Shiqing didn’t feel close enough—or obligated—to come out to Zheng Qiuyang.

A few days later, Zheng Qiuyang got himself a new girlfriend with a generous bust and, brimming with excitement, threw a poolside BBQ party, inviting a bunch of friends over.

It was supposed to start at six, but by half past five, people were already trickling in. Zheng Qiuyang greeted the arrivals while calling the ones who hadn’t shown up yet.

Coincidentally, that same day was the release date of JOY Impressions magazine. Fang Shiqing had been busy and exhausted all day. He didn’t know any of Zheng Qiuyang’s other friends and hadn’t planned on going, but after multiple calls urging him—“Where are you? When will you get here?”—he felt embarrassed to refuse. Since they were still new friends, it seemed rude to brush him off, so after some thought, he turned back home, grabbed a bottle of wine, and headed over.

Zheng Qiuyang’s new girlfriend was an art school student—pretty, polite, and quite the trophy. At the moment, she and several other girls were barbecuing by the pool, while the men lounged around chatting.

A young man with eyeliner and a backward cap laughed, legs bouncing. “Damn, where’d Old Zheng find this baby-faced bombshell? She even legal yet?”

“Keep it down, don’t scare off our Youyou,” Zheng Qiuyang mocked in his accent, spitting in jest. “Wang Chao, that northeastern twang of yours smells like pickled cabbage. People might know you as the hotshot leader of a boy band, but without context, they’d think you’re performing at some countryside comedy stage.”

Everyone burst out laughing. The eyeliner-wearing Wang Chao collapsed bonelessly against the sofa, laughing too. “Laugh all you want. I came straight after a gig without even wiping my makeup off, just to mess around with you guys. If that’s not touching, I don’t know what is! Later, each of you better buy a hundred copies of our new album. Don’t buy, and I’ll mince you up into dumpling filling!”

The villa’s garden connected directly to the back entrance. Fang Shiqing had never been there before and lost his way in the neighborhood, somehow circling around to the rear gate. Through the fence, he spotted the girls grilling by the pool and knew he’d arrived.

He never cared for loud parties, and if not for Zheng Qiuyang’s persistence, he wouldn’t have come at all. Even now, he didn’t plan to stay long—just show up, make an appearance, then slip out once things got lively. Conveniently, he parked near the back entrance and decided to enter that way, easier to leave later.

One of the girls grilling came over to let him in. Discreetly glancing at his car outside and the watch peeking from his cuff, she smiled sweetly. “Come in, most people are already here… You’re Qiuyang-ge’s friend? I’m Xiaosi. How should I address you?”

“Fang,” he replied casually.

As he walked in, Xiaosi trailed him, still trying to chat. “You came alone? Everyone else brought a date.”

Fang Shiqing frowned. He disliked parties, especially the kind where everyone brought “dates.” These girls, Xiaosi included, were clearly amateur models. No need to guess what they were really here for.

Meanwhile, inside, Zheng Qiuyang and his buddies were still talking nonsense.

Someone asked, “Hey, Wang Chao, I heard your big brother just got promoted again?”

Wang Chao shrugged. “Yeah, happens every year. But he and my sister-in-law still haven’t had kids. My parents are going crazy wanting grandkids. My second brother’s a diehard bachelor—forget kids, he’ll probably never even marry. But my big brother? Married for years and still no children.”

“Something wrong with him? My mom knows a miracle doctor who specializes in that.”

“Get lost! My big brother, with issues? He and my sister-in-law are both career-driven. For people like them… ugh, forget it, you wouldn’t get it. Anyway, I think they’re just sick of raising kids. They probably want a break for a couple of years.”

“What do you mean?”

“My sister-in-law’s from out of town. Once she settled in the capital, she brought her younger brother over—still in middle school at the time. Then she married my big brother. And let me tell you, he really loves her. He treats her little brother like his own son. No exaggeration—he treats that kid better than he treats me. Honestly, it’s ridiculous. They raised him all these years, only for that brat to turn into a sissy… ah shit!”

Before he could finish, Wang Chao let out a startled yelp, springing from the sofa. He gawked toward the doorway. “You got supersonic hearing or what? Or jet legs?”

Everyone turned in confusion.

At the door stood a tall stranger, features striking, chestnut curls brushing his shoulders, one side tucked behind an ear, where a gemstone stud glinted.

The host, Zheng Qiuyang, quickly rose to introduce, “This is Fang Shiqing, a new friend of mine, works in fashion magazines.”

He enthusiastically introduced the others too. When he got to Wang Chao, Fang Shiqing said, “No need—we already know each other.”

Wang Chao forced a weird smile. “More than know—family, even.”

Zheng Qiuyang looked between them, puzzled.

Fang Shiqing handed him the wine first, then explained, “He calls my sister ‘sister-in-law.’”

Zheng Qiuyang and the rest: “……”

Fang Shiqing stepped closer, stopping just half an arm’s length from Wang Chao, who feigned composure.

Being taller, Fang Shiqing gazed down at him, eyelids lowered, and said slowly, “With eyeliner, you look even more like a K-pop idol.”

Wang Chao’s group had modeled itself after Korean boy bands from debut concept to music style. Online, countless haters mocked them as “the rip-off K-pop group.”

Wang Chao bristled, but having just been caught badmouthing, he knew he was in the wrong. He kept his mouth shut, silently imagining beating that smug face beyond recognition.

Back when Fang Shiqing had been taken in by his sister Fang Mingyu during middle school, Wang Chao was still in elementary. At first, they managed to get along. Over time, though, they ended up on opposite sides.

The root of it lay in what Wang Chao had just said: his eldest brother, Wang Qi, always favored his wife’s younger brother over his own.

There were three Wang brothers: eldest Wang Qi, second Wang Jin, and youngest Wang Chao.

Wang Qi was nearly ten years older than Wang Chao—the generation gap as deep as a chasm. Their parents, elderly and concerned about the capital’s air quality, had returned to the northeast, leaving the youngest under his brothers’ care. Wang Jin was lenient enough, but Wang Qi was harsh. At the slightest disobedience, he’d lock the door and beat Wang Chao mercilessly—black eyes, bloody welts, sometimes worse.

Before Fang Shiqing came, Wang Chao’s misery was just… misery. After Fang arrived, it became unbearable.

Only three years older than Wang Chao, Fang had no trouble bridging the so-called “chasm” with Wang Qi. To him, Wang Qi showed warmth, indulgence, and care. Anything Fang wanted, Wang Qi provided—lavish favoritism all around.

Later, Wang Chao realized it was simply Wang Qi’s obsessive love for Fang Mingyu spilling over onto her brother. But as a child, he didn’t understand. All he saw was himself living in hell while Fang Shiqing lived in heaven. Instead of resenting Wang Qi, he came to resent Fang—provoking him, bullying him, only to be beaten again when caught. The more he hated Fang, the more he got beaten. A vicious cycle, never broken.

Years later, Fang returned from overseas, joined the magazine, and within a year became editor-in-chief. Meanwhile, Wang Chao floundered—unaccomplished, idle, wasting time. So not only did Wang Qi side with Fang, even their parents back home constantly nagged on the phone: Look at your sister-in-law’s brother—so capable, hardworking, studious, obedient. And then look at you.

Look at you!

Wang Chao’s resentment only deepened. Fang’s long hair, pretty face, stylish clothes—all became his favorite targets of attack.

And so, Wang Qi’s beloved brother-in-law became, in Wang Chao’s mouth, a “sissy.”