Chapter 20: He seems... about to be fucked to pieces, his lip balm smeared on one side of his mouth...

Chi Leyou sent a message to Manager Yang of Xiyouhui.

Manager Yang was 45 years old and from Jinshi.

"All the tickets are sold out! Seriously!" Sister Yang wanted to reveal her heartfelt message to Xiao Chi. In the last 10 seconds of her heartfelt, long message, Sister Yang changed the subject, "If you want to see it, just tell me. I'll arrange for you to stand at the back. It's a bonus for those outside the group!"

The "free standing tickets" for insiders were similar to the security guards at concerts.

Chi Leyou should have been happy. How cool would a free crosstalk show be?

She sat at the table, one hand resting on her chin, her pinky finger rubbing the corner of her eye, half a grimace reflected on the off phone screen.

But someone wanted four tickets.

Four.

Her fingers tapped on the keyboard.

No one in the Maple Leaf Country Exchange group was issuing tickets.

Chi Leyou's ticket request was instantly flooded with messages.

[Liuzi A: Fresh and hot McGill Math final notes (ooops, failed two classes, but still faithfully taking notes)]

[Liuzi B: Almost new broom, it can't play Quidditch, but it can make your ex cry]

[Liuzi C: Lao Gan Ma fermented bean curd, half a bottle left, amazing iron booster!]

The girl was confused. How can a half bottle of fermented bean curd boost iron?

Liuzi C added a detailed picture of Lao Gan Ma.

Oh my! The rusty iron lid!

Chi Leyou rolled her eyes and decisively left the group.

She browsed Facebook Marketplace and found more scalpers than users—foreign sellers reselling Justin Bieber concert tickets.

Crosstalk is a niche entertainment among the Chinese community in the Maple Leaf Country.

Chi Leyou opened local apps one by one and unexpectedly discovered that Kijiji had shut down.

She had stumbled upon the app by chance, similar to a seafood market in China. She had bought her bicycle on Kijiji.

On the day of the transaction, the grand car-collection ceremony almost made Chi Leyou mistake it for a Porsche.

The mysterious previous owner didn't show up.

Under the cherry blossom tree in front of his house, Chi Leyou claimed her "new car."

It was polished to a shine, its handlebars meticulously tied with bows.

She pedaled hard.

The bicycle, carrying the girl, sped along the lakeside driveway.

The wind whipped through the red polka-dot ribbon, blowing through the windbreaker, causing the hem to bulge.

Memories froze, transformed into frames from a youthful, passionate manga.

That brief memory of being cared for with care by a kind stranger faded with the closure of the conscientious second-hand trading platform.

Chi Leyou searched a few more keywords.

Finally, she glimpsed a glimpse of victory.

[Xiyouhui·This Saturday's Ji Wuling Evening Show: "Debt Is Inescapable," "Rent a Dad for the New Year"...]

She held her breath, her eyes scanning the program until she saw the last price.

Her eyes remained fixed.

How much was the ticket?

600 yuan.

She blinked repeatedly.

She'd read it wrong; the unit wasn't "yuan," it was "dao."

$600! Single ticket! An outrageous price! A knife to the heart of Maple Leaf Elementary School!

She hesitated for a second, then was surprised to find that the initial price of $600 had disappeared. The price on the page had suddenly changed to "$888/ticket."

"!!!"

This was the first time she'd encountered a seller who was raising the price in real time!

The scalper's name was Mr. Liu.

Excuse me, respected Mr. Liu, your price is considered market gouging. In ancient times, you'd be charged for corruption.

"Park Xigua." Chi Leyou turned to seek professional advice.

Park Yejin didn't study hard in high school, focusing solely on idol worship. This woman has unique experience buying concert and fan meeting tickets.

After hearing Chi Leyou's words, Park Yejin's pupils dilated. "Mr. Duo?"

"He wants four tickets, so that's $3,500."

Park Yejin then asked, "Is it the Xiaoyueyue that you guys at Zhonggu Salami like?"

If it was Xiaoyueyue, then it was worth it! It's perfectly normal for a fangirl to spend money on her idol.

Chi Leyou: "Of course not."

"Shit! Get your friend to call the scalpers, and snatch it up! We'll buy it for free!" The scalpers were jacking up the price, and Park Ye-jin couldn't stand it any longer.

"..."

Seeing Chi Leyou's face plump, Park Ye-jin hurried over, pressing her palms against her cheeks, rubbing them vigorously.

With her mouth squeezed tight, Chi Leyou could only whimper.

"If your friend has money, then buy it," Park Ye-jin declared.

Maple Leaf Country is full of wealthy people.

Chi Leyou spoke haltingly, "He... just looks rich."

Park Ye-jin sternly criticized, "He's a slick donkey dung ball!"

Chi Leyou was shocked by his rapidly improving Chinese.

Comic characters need this kind of contrast. Park Ye-jin, having recovered her senses, whimpered and rushed to her desk.

The magic pen, Ma Liang, grasped the pressure-sensitive pen and made a few strokes.

The rolling stool slid Xiao Chi to the opposite table, and the great painter Park's first reader arrived.

The cartoon on the tablet—

a perfect figure, broad shoulders and narrow waist, a typical Korean comic strip depicting an ancient prince recast as a modern man.

His eyes were narrow and long, his brows sharply outlined.

Park Ye-jin enlarged the eyes, then further enlarged them, casting a watery glow beneath them.

With this finishing touch, the aloof nobleman emerged.

The viewer's head buzzed.

The nobleman stepped from the tablet and took shape before her.

It was as stunning as their first encounter under the cherry blossoms in the mansion's backyard. The withered cherry blossoms in her memory were now bursting with buds before her eyes.

The painting resembled someone.

"Adding willows to the background makes our hero look even more elegant," Park Ye-jin said as she painted.

It wasn't a cherry blossom, and Chi Leyou breathed a sigh of relief.

—A deep male voice, like the chanting of a Buddhist monk, said, "I've been blackmailed."

Chen Che's words echoed in her ears.

It was clearly an elementary school experience where she was blackmailed by older kids, and it had nothing to do with her, yet a hole had been punched in her heart, letting a cold wind blew in. She

felt strangely guilty.

"Is this okay? Illustration of the male lead in the second episode," Park Ye-jin asked.

Chi Leyou came to her senses, her mind still lingering with deep complaints and indignant tones, as if she were the culprit who blackmailed the innocent child.

Chi Leyou's inner sissy was overpowering, and she had to make fun of herself in the second dimension to comfort herself.

"Almost." She stood, her fingertips pointed disdainfully at the paper figure's suit. "Take it off!"

"A shirt? No problem." The great painter Park grasped his brush like an aunt peeling bamboo shoots on an assembly line, picking and choosing. The nobleman's suit disappeared, his tie vanished, and his neatly-made shirt lost two precious buttons.

"Not enough yet." Chi Leyou joined the Film Classification Committee, becoming the most unscrupulous member. She directed the assembly line workers, "Tear it open, open it... ah, cuff your wrists."

Park Ye-jin, following the screenwriter's instructions, humiliated the male lead, chuckling wickedly as a Chinese song sang.

From the off-key singing and the drawn-out rhythm, Chi Leyou recognized the title: Alex To's "Take It Off."

"Take it off, take it off~ coat off~"

The elegant man on the tablet transformed dramatically.

His robe undone, his cold, pale skin drooping downwards—his creator, painter Park, was emphasizing the shadows of his muscles, making them solid, like hills, a continuous mass.

His left hand cuffed and raised to his chest, he lowered his head, his lips wrapped around the other handcuff, his face obscured by his hair.

Next shot.

He suddenly looked up, his eyes sparkling, a hint of allure in them.

Park Ye-jin painted his lips, lip balm smearing on one corner.

He looked... like he was about to be fucked.

Chi Leyou was stunned. The scene was too much!

"Great!!!" Park Ye-jin was so excited.

"..." Chi Leyou wanted to remind her that serious comics platforms couldn't produce gongman ("gong", manually rotate 90 degrees). ①

But Park Ye-jin bombarded her with questions one after another: "Age setting, the rich sister and the little brother are eight years apart?"

The official screenwriter, like a frisbee catching a frisbee, leaped into the air, barely catching the questions.

She struggled to recall.

The rich sister had a youthful figure, her skin the color of sticky rice in the refrigerator. How could she be 35? She was definitely 18 years old and in her prime.

"Ten years?" Chi Leyou said.

"Ten years is boring," Park Ye-jin complained. "A 20-year age difference is more fun."

"Are you crazy? A 20-year age difference makes you his mother!"

"A 60-year-old man's blind date requirement is 25 to 35 years old. We women, can't find a much younger brother—why?! Your body is in the modern era, but your mind is in the Ming Dynasty?"

"..."

Chen

Che hadn't slept well all night.

After a shower, he walked into the dining room wrapped in his bathrobe.

Du Yuanshan tilted her face upwards as Sister Yan, the meticulous painter, raised her facial mask brush and smeared a thick layer of "dark green lime" on the hostess's face.

Unexpectedly, her son was awake so early. Du Yuanshan freed her hand, shook it, and called out, "Little Che."

The codeword was correct.

Chen Che then shuffled over to his mother's side.

At the dining table, loyal Mrs. Wang was setting the table.

Breakfast was extravagant.

The eldest son, who said, "I'm insomniac, but I'm trying to eat a little," pulled out a chair.

"Hey~" Du Yuanshan ordered, "Help Mommy get the iPad."

Not to mention Chen Che, even Mrs. Wang shuddered, seemingly apprehensive, but in reality, intrigued by Du Yuanshan's new terminology: "...Madam, I'll get the stent."

"No need," Du Yuanshan said, a considerate employer. "Raising a son is a way to prepare for old age. I have a good son."

Her eldest son remained expressionless: "Diagnosed with Parkinson's?"

"You!"

The mask cracked several times.

This mouth: future archaeologists will excavate it.

The museum's label: One million-year-old fossilized adult male human mouth, hardness level: Superlative.

Beware of Du Yuanshan's transformation into a Super Saiyan Mom. Chen Che appeared submissive.

"...Okay, I'll be filial." He placed the iPad in front of Du Yuanshan, but the facial unlock failed. "Password."

Du Yuanshan's face was cold, her heart chilled: "The password is the birthdays of the two men I love most." Chen

Che typed Shen Dahe and his own birthdays into the iPad.

Wrong password.

His heart warmed up. It turned out that he was the first in his mother's heart. He re-entered the password and silently put his birthday before his father's, even his fingertips were a little gentle.

Wrong password.

He looked up: "?"

Du Yuanshan grabbed the iPad and entered the birthdays of her brother Du Ziyuan and Shen Dahe.

"Slightly~" She stuck out her tongue at her son.

"How old are you..." Shen Che was speechless.

After unlocking, the page jumped to the webtoon.

The poor guy without mother's love endured the cold face, kept a low profile, and held the iPad steady.

"My big watermelon!" Du Yuanshan's eyes became brighter and brighter, "It's wonderful!"

"Xiaoxi, help your mother to reward, quickly." Du Yuanshan was so excited that she threw the correct code behind her mind.

She was forced to recall the former name Shen Dashao washing underwear with a cold face and rewarding the comic author.

The screen jumped back to the picture of Du Yuanshan's hahaha.

Shen Che squinted his eyes and scanned the comic page.

Is it his illusion-

how come this guy in the comic looks a bit like him... ?