AS CH 2

Chapter 2

After leaving the fast-food restaurant, Lü Chenyue walked into an inconspicuous building and headed to the room at the far end. When he opened the door, the room was filled entirely with men.

One of them, a man with a ponytail named Xiao Lan, was the first to speak.

“Wow, you’re actually late? That’s rare.”

Lü Chenyue walked over and sat on the sofa, replying expressionlessly, “Our class monitor kept me behind.”

“You trying to scare the hell out of us?” Another man with a buzz cut, Xiao Wei, looked startled as he stared at Lü Chenyue.

“I thought your secret got exposed at school!”

“Is that what happened?”

With Xiao Wei’s question, the five men in the room all turned to look at Lü Chenyue in unspoken sync—everyone except the sharply dressed man in a suit sitting at the head of the room.

“He just kept me back to finish some punishment homework. Said if I didn’t turn it in today, he wouldn’t let me leave,” Lü Chenyue replied calmly.

The five men all let out a sigh of relief, patting their chests as if they’d just lost a few years off their lives. All of them looked at Lü Chenyue with the same exasperated expression.

“What’s with your class monitor? Got it out for you or something?” Xiao Lan teased.

Lü Chenyue shrugged. “Maybe.”

He thought to himself—Xu Wenhao was always warm and respectful toward everyone else in the class. Only when he dealt with him did his tone shift, his eyes sharp with what felt like disgust, as if Lü Chenyue carried some kind of disease. But earlier… Xu Wenhao’s gaze had seemed… different.

“No matter what,” said the man sitting at the head of the room, “since you were late today, I either turned away your clients or gave them to someone else. You good with that?”

His name was Gao Junting, and he was the boss here. His low voice pulled Lü Chenyue’s drifting thoughts back to reality.

Lü Chenyue lowered his head and answered quietly, “I’m fine with it.” He wouldn’t dare complain—he respected Gao Junting deeply.

Someone nearby gave Lü Chenyue a pat on the shoulder, a gesture of sympathy and silent comfort.

Everyone who ended up in this place had their own story. And for someone like Lü Chenyue, who was still underage, being here was a risk—for both him and Gao Junting.

“You guys go on. I need a word with Xiao Yue,” Gao Junting instructed the others.

The five men didn’t say a word. One by one, they filed out of the room.

Once only the two of them remained, Gao Junting looked at Lü Chenyue, his expression solemn.

“Xiao Yue, tell me honestly—do you really not regret taking this path?”

Gao Junting had always treated Lü Chenyue like a younger brother. Watching someone so young walk down such a dirty, dark road made him feel genuinely sorry—and helpless.

“The path I chose myself—I won’t regret,” Lü Chenyue replied, looking directly at Gao Junting.
His tone was firm, and his eyes steady. He wouldn’t be easily shaken.

“If I hadn’t met you back then, I don’t even know where I’d be right now. Besides, if you don’t have money, you can’t eat, you have nowhere to stay, and you can’t go to school. Isn’t that right?”

His words trailed off into something like self-mockery.

Gao Junting looked at Lü Chenyue with a complicated expression. Then, he lit a cigarette, took a slow drag, exhaled, and said, “If you ever want to leave, just tell me. I won’t stop you.”

Lü Chenyue didn’t reply.

How many times had Gao Junting already said that to him? It was just that his own hollow heart had nowhere else to go—that’s why he chose to stay.

Everyone here had lost the right to choose. Most of them had ended up in this place to repay debts—crushing ones—shouldered for their families. With nowhere else to turn, they were taken in by Gao Junting and forced onto this road of no return.

“Go home for now. It’s getting late,” Gao Junting told him.

“Okay.” Lü Chenyue quietly stood and walked out of the office, leaving behind the seemingly nondescript building that, in truth, was a gay bar.

“Demon” was unlike other bars.

 It wasn’t located on a busy commercial street, nor was it nestled in some lively hotspot.
Instead, it quietly operated on a low-traffic, half-forgotten side street—hidden in plain sight.

If daylight symbolized “angels,” then the night belonged to “demons.”

In this world, there were no angels—only demons.

Under dim and murky lighting, people shed the illusion of civility that daytime demanded, and gave in to the raw, unfiltered desires buried deep within themselves.

Here, having no rules was the rule.

“Demon” was not just a gay bar—it was also a secret place where bodies were exchanged for money through sex.

***

Back at his apartment, Lü Chenyue stepped into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and let the stream of water pour over his head, washing down his face and back as he restlessly replayed the day’s events at school—especially that encounter with Xu Wenhao.

He knew Xu Wenhao didn’t like him—probably influenced by the rest of the class. In over two years, they’d barely had any interaction. The only reason they’d even spoken was because Xu Wenhao, as class president, had his duties to fulfill. But every look, every word he spoke to him always carried disdain and impatience.

So if he really hated him, why did his tone seem slightly different today?

Lü Chenyue had always kept to himself in class. No one wanted to get close to him, and he was fine with that. He preferred the solitude.

But today, when Xu Wenhao made him stay to finish his punishment homework, it felt like he was secretly observing him.

He hated being seen through.

That’s why, the moment he finished copying those exercises, he decided—he didn’t want to have anything more to do with Xu Wenhao.

He shut off the water, dried off, and put on his clothes. After stepping out of the bathroom, he blow-dried his hair and trudged wearily toward the bed.

He hated when night fell.

He hated closing his eyes.

Tossing and turning, it took a long time before sleep finally came to him…

(To be continued…)