Page 87 of He Is My Bride

“It’s Hanrong:‘Areyou two okay?’Of course we are! Right, Hanjun?”

“Mm.”

“‘We are fantastic, thanks bro! Worry about that other bitch.’Next message:‘I’m taking Li Ying home.Because I’m silly and cute.’Send.”

Hanjun didn’t protest the contents of the message.

Li Ying took out his own phone in his other hand and started calling Anne while entering a taxi app on Hanjun’s. His brain was on acceleration, as opposed to Hanjun, who had become slow like a computer with not enough processing power.

“Heydarling,we’re out, meet us outside. …Yeah, yeah, it was great! Zero dead, two injured, I think. No, not us, who do you think I am? I’ll tell you on the way.”

Hanrong had responded:And a normal smiling emoji.

“You both text like grandpas.”

No comment.

They went outside to wait for their ride, and soon Anne ran across the street to meet them.

“It’s barely midnight, I thought you would be out later. Are you okay? Uh, Sir Hanjun?”

Hanjun was staring into nothing, swaying precariously where he stood.

Their taxi came, and this time Li Ying held the door for him and saw that he got in alright. Once in the backseat with Anne, Li Ying gave her the tea. He also told the taxi driver to drive them through a fried chicken joint to get some takeaway. He had gotten a craving.

Anne came up to Hanjun’s apartment to hear the rest of it while they ate their buckets of greasy chicken and drank a few more Moscow Mules against Li Ying’s better judgment. Anne hunted people down on social media as Li Ying dropped their names.

“Oh wow, I have to follow this Huang Xiang! You said he’s a designer?”

“Show me!” Li Ying looked at the man’s profile over Anne’s shoulder: Huang Xiang had stylish, professional-level photos of himself, sketches of his designs, and pictures from fashion events, gallery openings and such, which he had attended and sometimes had his family sponsor, shaking some hands and posing with the models. Li Ying remembered having promised something to the hopeful young creative:

“Yeah, he’s an amateur designer, but he would probably try going professional if he got an opportunity. I mentioned you, that you might have some connections. But you know, didn’t make any promises.”

“U-huh. Well, I’ll follow him and drop a comment and see if he follows up with anything. What was the name of the Lin guy?”

“Lin Yong.”

“Hmm,is this him?”

Anne showed the feed of a pompous-looking asshole, posing with an array of sports cars, always in a snazzy suit or shirt and often wearing sunglasses and flashing nice watches, often in the company of identical, doll-like women like the one he had been with today.

“This guy has a micropenis,” Li Ying said. “Yep, that’s him.”

“And the bitch?”

“Tang Xiuxiu. …Nu-uh, not for Junjun!” Li Ying swatted Hanjun’s hand when he was reaching for Li Ying’s glass.

“I’m thirsty,” Hanjun mumbled.

“That won’t help you.” Li Ying gave Hanjun his already empty takeaway cup. “Get some water from the tap.”

Hanjun took the cup and obeyed.

Anne kept searching on her phone. “Look at this.” She showed Li Ying some heavily filtered pictures of Xiuxiu and then the other two girls: all almost identical, same poses, same backdrops at expensive hotels and famous restaurants. “I know what this is: these girls go to a so-called training camp where they are coached on how to find and marry rich men and how to be their ‘celebrity wives!’ These agencies rent them the clothes, take their pictures for social media, and get them access to exclusive clubs where they can meet rich and famous men.”

“What? That’s super shady! Isn’t that basically, like, a con?”

“Yeah, kinda.”