Lin Huo was always very punctual. Sitting in the car, Shen Ting watched him enter the restaurant.

Ten minutes later, a yawning Song Ci lazily emerged from the car and strolled unhurriedly into the restaurant.

"I went back to sleep this morning. If Xu Kai hadn't called to invite me to dinner, I almost would've forgotten our appointment." Song Ci had barely slept a wink last night. As soon as he sat down, he stretched, looking somewhat lethargic.

He casually hung his sunglasses on his shirt collar, flipped open the menu, and waved at a waiter not far away.

The waiter jogged over.

Scanning the menu, Song Ci rapidly rattled off his order: "Start with a sashimi platter—make the salmon the belly cut, and swap the bluefin tuna for fatty tuna. Two portions of grilled live eel, two stuffed crab shells, and a sukiyaki..."

Song Ci had been like this since childhood—ordering food quickly and always in large quantities.

Sitting across from him, Lin Huo watched him order a mountain of food.

Even the waiter standing by couldn't help but interrupt to confirm, "Sir, will it just be the two of you dining?"

The waiter was a handsome boy around twenty years old.

Amused by the question, Song Ci raised his eyebrows and looked at him. "If it's not the two of us eating, who else is there? What? Are you going to sit down and keep me company?" The suggestive undertone in his frivolous smile was self-evident.

The young waiter hadn't expected to be flirted with by a male customer. His handsome face instantly flushed crimson, and he stammered for a long time without forming a single word.

Song Ci hated dull, wooden people the most. His interest instantly killed, he curled his lip, snapped the menu shut, and muttered, "Boring."

Lin Huo took the menu and handed it to the stiffly standing waiter. "We'll start with this. You can go attend to your work."

Hearing this, the boy quickly grabbed the menu from the table, clutched it to his chest, and scurried away as if his life had just been saved.

Song Ci leaned his entire back against the chair, raising his hands to forcefully stretch his arms and neck. "Alright, tell me. How is this puppet supposed to cooperate with your work, President Lin?"

Lin Huo didn't much care for Song Ci's half-joking, half-serious banter. Frowning—a rare expression for him—he said, "After lunch, I'll take you to the company. You and..."

Before he could finish, Song Ci cut him off. "After lunch? Can't do that. I have an appointment this afternoon."

Song Ci had been a serial truant✦ dictionaryTruant: One who is absent from school without permission since childhood. Now, making an excuse to "skip work" was entirely in character.

Knowing his personality inside out, Lin Huo looked at him with eyes that plainly spelled the word Disbelief.

"I really do have an appointment. Two o'clock at the Mental Health Center. I booked it early this morning." Song Ci took a sip of the hot oolong tea in his hand, looking a bit more energized. "I really didn't sleep much last night."

Lin Huo's eyelid twitched violently. He had a premonition that this degenerate little animal was about to say something earth-shattering.

But this time, he guessed wrong.

"I wasn't busy doing other things; I slept alone. The whole night, I tossed and turned, thinking that it's best if I don't go to the company just yet. Send me the information on the core personnel and main business operations first."

Eyes downcast, Song Ci tightly grasped his teacup, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing back and forth along the rim. "Although I'm no promising young talent, I'm not the son of some nameless nobody, either. My brother always said that us Songs are wolves.

"I may have never done a single productive thing in my life, but I know very well that I absolutely cannot drop the ball right now and humiliate my brother.
"Even though I've been out of the country all these years, I still frequently heard my brother mention you.

"Lin Huo, you are his most capable and trusted assistant—I know this. Since a sly old fox like my brother can trust you, then naturally, I will listen to whatever you say.

"I know you won't harm me, and that you genuinely want to hand the reins over to me. But I'm too young. For all these years, aside from fooling around, I don't know anything."

Song Ci smiled self-deprecatingly, as if silently weighing his own worth once again. "For the past twenty-five years, aside from eating, drinking, playing, and causing trouble, I haven't accomplished a damn thing.

"Given my brother's current state, the number of people who want to kick him while he's down or seize the opportunity to usurp power is probably greater than the number of people I've slept with in my life. I can't just go meet those old foxes completely unprepared."

He looked up at Lin Huo, but quickly lowered his eyes to his cup again.

Lin Huo actually felt that those bright eyes harbored a strange, intense gleam.

It was rare to see this young man so subdued. He had striking, distinct features and flawless bone structure. On his perfectly handsome, almost sculptural face, his gently closed lips looked like the stroke of genius often praised in art critiques that brought a statue to life.

Never before had Lin Huo seen such resolute determination on Song Ci. "Give me a little time to prepare. Even if I'm parachuting into management, I will be the one who lands the most steadily."

Perhaps pain and setbacks truly can force a person to grow up, Lin Huo thought with relief.

Although a large portion of Song Shi's empire was built on extremely dangerous, blood-soaked ventures, Lin Huo—who always claimed to the public that he managed the cultural sector—always spoke in a refined, intellectual manner.

"I am very glad to hear you say this. I believe if Mr. Song knew, he would also feel very gratified. I will send you the list of executives and the business sector introductions over the next few days. Once you have untangled the stakes and relationships involved, I will formally introduce you to everyone on the board of directors."

Lin Huo specially emphasized the word "formally," his enunciation carrying the solemnity of Zhuge Liang accepting a critical mission in a time of peril✦ translator's noteZhuge Liang accepting a critical mission: A reference to the famous scene in Romance of the Three Kingdoms where Zhuge Liang solemnly accepts Liu Bei's dying wish to serve his heir. Here it describes Lin Huo's grave, ceremonious tone when pledging his support..

"What is learned from books is ultimately shallow; true understanding requires personal practice. Discussing military tactics a thousand times cannot compare to a single actual battlefield engagement. I hope you remember this as well. From now on, I will support you just as I supported Mr. Song."

Song Ci nodded readily, accepting the advice. "When it comes to work, I'll listen to you."

While Lin Huo could serve as Song Ci's guide in business, when it came to personal matters, he could only play dumb.

For instance, the matter of Song Ci seeing a psychologist had long been spreading like wildfire within Song Ci's social circle.

Lin Huo had already heard those deliberately exaggerated rumors.

But regarding the minor "aftereffects" left by the young man's hedonistic indulgences, there was nothing he could do to intervene besides offering a polite smile.

Jianghu City's Mental Health Center was located within the Inner Ring. It was an affiliated hospital of the Jianghu Jiao Tong University School of Medicine, as well as a Grade 3A specialized psychiatric hospital.

Song Ci's psychological counseling appointment was in Room 301 on the third floor of Building 5.

He arrived early, and the previous client hadn't left yet. Thus, he had no choice but to sit bored on the bench in the hospital corridor and wait.

Song Ci sported an eye-catching head of dyed blonde hair, possessed deep, striking facial features, and wore sunglasses. Not long after he sat down, he attracted several young nurses who began pacing back and forth in the hallway.

Even the occasional passing pedestrian thought he was some idol star; no matter how rushed their steps, they couldn't help but steal a glance at where he was sitting.

The head nurse sitting at the triage desk in front of the counseling room, however, strongly disliked this young man with a tattoo behind his ear.

Back when she was young, the Korean idol style wasn't popular. Only lowlifes and hooligans dressed like this.

Two more young nurses approached from the other end of the corridor. Both pretended nothing was amiss, but their movements were highly synchronized. As they passed Song Ci, they casually turned their heads in his direction, and irrepressible smiles crept onto the corners of their lips.

The girls' hands clasped tightly together, shaking excitedly and covertly at their sides.

The head nurse had been young once too; how could she not understand the minds of young girls? She coughed forcefully, prompting the two young nurses to immediately turn and look at her.

The head nurse glared. "Do you two have a lot of free time? Then go to logistics and get some masks for me."

The two girls immediately nodded at her, sneaked one last collective, stealthy glance at the bench, and ran off giggling.

"I don't know what goes through the minds of young girls these days..." the head nurse couldn't help but mutter.

Dyeing perfectly good black hair into a mess, drawing a cross behind the ear—what's so good-looking about that!

Meanwhile, Song Ci—who was sitting on the bench scrolling through his WeChat Moments, whose gender was male, and whose sexual preference was male—didn't even look up.

Nearly twenty minutes later, the door to the counseling room finally opened.

Song Ci looked up and saw a middle-aged man in a suit and leather shoes walk out.

He thought of the reason he had publicly declared for coming here to receive psychological treatment. For some reason, he suddenly felt a spark of mutual sympathy for the man.

Just as he was left speechless by his own suddenly divergent train of thought...

The head nurse sitting behind the desk pointed at the half-open door and reminded him:
"Song Ci, is it? It's your turn. Go on in."

Considering the secrecy of the undercover mission, Director Yan and Sun Ruohai had assigned Shen Ting a special police psychological supervisor who had just arrived from Beijing that morning: Chang Qing.

Chang Qing and Shen Ting had known each other for a long time.

During his first year after graduating from Yanjing Public Security University, Shen Ting had also executed an undercover mission. During that time, another colleague executing the mission alongside him had their identity exposed and was tortured to death by criminals.

At the time, Shen Ting was sitting right there at the scene, drinking tea while expressionlessly watching his comrade turn from a living, breathing human being into a bloody corpse.

After that mission ended, to prevent Shen Ting from developing PTSD or similar symptoms, the organization specially assigned psychological expert Chang Qing to provide him with counseling.

"Long time no see."
After so many years, Chang Qing, who was under fifty back then, now had much more gray hair at his temples.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a square face. Wearing a white lab coat that reached past his knees, his hair was meticulously combed, and a pair of reading glasses with leopard-print frames perpetually hung around his neck.

Chang Qing had told Shen Ting before that a chic, middle-aged man like him would never forget to pursue fashion, even when choosing reading glasses.

Shen Ting hadn't expected to see him in Jianghu City. Aside from his surprise, he also felt even more keenly how much importance the Ministry of Public Security attached to this mission.

"Professor Chang." Straight-A students always carried a certain air of self-important aloofness. There were very few people Shen Ting admired; Director Yan was one, and Chang Qing was another.

Strictly speaking, on paper, Chang Qing had no ties to the police. He was simply a psychiatrist, a national-level psychological expert receiving a premium government stipend, and wasn't even specialized in criminal psychology.

But psychology studies people.
And police officers are people; criminals are also people.

To solve a case and unravel its threads, one must learn to put themselves in others' shoes.

As the saying goes, know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles.

And Chang Qing was exactly the kind of person who could help the police know themselves and their enemies.

Deep down, Shen Ting actually knew exactly what his mental hurdle was.

He wasn't a rigid or pedantic person, much less a bookworm whose brain had rotted from studying too much.

He understood that in war, nothing is too deceitful. He also knew that the pursuit of justice is a long process; one shouldn't get bogged down by minor details and must focus on the big picture.

It wasn't that he couldn't accept playing the role of a hooligan. On the contrary, for the sake of the mission, he could calmly get a tattoo, and if necessary, he could suppress his guilt and raise his hand against a woman.

As long as he could destroy the criminal syndicate and protect the lives and property of the public, he was willing to pretend to be a thug, a lowlife, strutting arrogantly and aggressively down the street without any psychological burden.

But the Song Ci he had to play this time wasn't just an ordinary lowlife. He swung both ways. Not only did he get handsy with women, but he could also go into heat over any same-sex individual around him at any given moment.

Modern society is a diverse one, and there is nothing shameful about minority sexual orientations.

Although Shen Ting considered himself a straight man—the kind of steel-straight man✦ translator's noteSteel-Straight Man (钢铁直男 · gāngtiě zhínán): Chinese internet slang for a man who is exceptionally, rigidly heterosexual. It often implies the guy is oblivious to romance and completely blind to the nuances of women's makeup—e.g., thinking a full face of natural-looking makeup means the girl isn't wearing any at all. who believed any girl not wearing bright red lipstick was completely bare-faced—he did not discriminate against homosexuality.

He agreed with the view that "liking and loving are very personal emotions; as long as no third party is harmed, no one has the right to judge."

But not discriminating didn't mean he could accept being one himself.

There were many guys at the police academy, and bros sometimes had foul mouths, making jokes about dropping the soap✦ translator's noteDropping the soap (捡肥皂): A universal slang joke (often in prisons or all-male environments) referring to the danger of bending over in the showers..

But the current situation required far more than just lip service.

What's more, that Song Ci wasn't properly dating anyone; he was like a stud horse in perpetual heat, spreading his seed everywhere.

To fool Xu Kai's crowd, he had to mimic this scum flawlessly.

This meant he absolutely had to act exactly like Song Ci—not only throwing tantrums and acting shamelessly, but also learning to flirt and act inappropriately with all sorts of men in broad daylight.

The aversion a person of conventional sexual orientation feels towards flirting with the same sex is innate.

Shen Ting firmly believed that any steel-straight man✦ translator's noteSteel-Straight Man (钢铁直男 · gāngtiě zhínán): Chinese internet slang for a man who is exceptionally, rigidly heterosexual. It often implies the guy is oblivious to romance and completely blind to the nuances of women's makeup—e.g., thinking a full face of natural-looking makeup means the girl isn't wearing any at all. would share his identical, physiological revulsion.

I have a couplet I'd like to present to Inspector Shen Ting: "He who is extremely homophobic is, eight times out of ten, deep in the closet." The horizontal scroll reads: "President Chu is waiting for you outside the closet." ~Take care! That's all for now!

I finished writing early today, so I've posted this just after midnight. I should be able to post early tomorrow as well.
A quick thank you to "Lotus Laurinda" for bombing me with Bawang Tickets, and to my little angels who have already sent over "Love Nutrition Pellets" while I'm still figuring out how to view the donor list!
Whatever is on your mind—let's chat in the comments section.

Steel-Straight Man (钢铁直男 · gāngtiě zhínán): Chinese internet slang for a man who is exceptionally, rigidly heterosexual. It often implies that the guy is somewhat oblivious to romance, unable to pick up on subtle flirting, and completely blind to the nuances of women's makeup (e.g., thinking a full face of natural-looking makeup means the girl isn't wearing any makeup at all).

Dropping the soap (捡肥皂): A universal slang joke (often in prisons or all-male environments) referring to the danger of bending over in the showers.