Tòumíng's mind was already working through the implications, the exhaustion fading as survival instincts kicked back in. "If Pàng Hǔ survives this..."
"He's going to come back," Měi Nán finished quietly. "With friends. With weapons. With a plan."
"And those gangsters from last night—the ones who followed me—they know where I live too." Tòumíng looked around his apartment, at the blood stains he'd need to clean, at the space that had felt like a upgrade two weeks ago and now felt like a trap. "This place isn't safe anymore. I need to move. Soon."
"Do you know anyone in the moving business?" he asked, turning to Měi Nán.
Měi Nán's expression shifted to something complicated. "Ongoing boyfriend number twelve does moving work, but after the whole Pàng Hǔ situation..." He shook his head. "I don't trust most of my clients anymore. Don't know who might get obsessive, who might turn violent. Can't risk bringing them into this."
"So what do we do?"
"I could call an old friend. Turned business owner a few years ago. Runs a whole moving company now." Měi Nán's face scrunched up like he'd bitten into something sour. "Ài Fēng."
The way he said the name made it sound like a curse word.
"Did you two have a falling out or something?"
"No." Měi Nán sighed deeply, pulling out his phone with visible reluctance. "We've hated each other from the start. Have you ever seen those girl friendships where they seem like best pals on the surface, always hanging out, always posting together, but underneath it's just constant passive-aggressive warfare? Where every compliment is actually an insult and every interaction is a competition?"
Tòumíng thought about it. "I just got access to the internet like two weeks ago, so no, I don't really know what you mean."
"Right. Forgot you were basically living under a rock." Měi Nán scrolled through his contacts. "Well, just know that Ài Fēng is a bitch. And I'm a bitch. And when we're together it's like watching two cats fight in a bag."
He found the contact and pressed the video call button.
The phone rang twice before connecting.
The face that appeared on screen was stunning in an aggressive, calculated way. Sharp features, perfectly sculpted eyebrows, makeup applied with precision that suggested either professional training or obsessive practice. Long hair cascaded over one shoulder, and the background suggested an expensive apartment with modern furniture.
"OMGGGG HAIII BESTIE!" Ài Fēng's voice was high-pitched, enthusiastic, and completely artificial. "It's been like forEVER! I thought you'd died or something!"
"Hiii honey!" Měi Nán's voice matched the energy perfectly, saccharine sweet and totally fake. "I know right? I've just been so busy with work, you know how it is!"
"Oh I'm sure you have been." The emphasis on 'busy' carried layers of judgment. "How's the escorting going, slutty bae?"
Tòumíng watched Měi Nán's eye twitch, but his smile stayed plastered in place.
"It's going great, half-girl! Business is booming!" Měi Nán's tone could have stripped paint. "How's the moving company? Still convincing desperate people to pay premium prices for cardboard boxes?"
"It's called providing quality service, sweetie. Some of us actually built legitimate businesses instead of, you know, laying on our backs for rent money."
"And some of us are naturally talented enough to charge what we're worth instead of settling for whatever we can scam out of people!"
They were both smiling. Both using pet names. Both radiating enough passive-aggressive energy to power a small city.
Tòumíng sat very still, afraid that moving might somehow draw him into this verbal warfare.
"Anyway!" Měi Nán's voice climbed higher, sweeter. "I actually need a teensy tiny favor from you, babe!"
"Oh?" Ài Fēng's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. "The legendary Měi Nán needs MY help? This must be serious!"
"Could you possibly send some movers to my area? Like, soon? Today if possible?"
"Why?" The question was sharp, interested. "What's the rush? Finally upgrading from that sad little studio apartment?"
"Just a... customer dispute." Měi Nán kept his expression carefully neutral. "Need to relocate quickly. You know how it is."
Ài Fēng's eyes lit up like a shark sensing blood in the water. "Customer dispute? OHHHH bestie, did someone get clingy again? Did you lead another poor soul on with those puppy dog eyes?"
"I didn't lead anyone—"
"You know, this keeps happening to you. Maybe it's time for some self-reflection? Like, maybe you need to be less submissive with your clients?" Ài Fēng leaned closer to the camera, clearly enjoying this. "I know cuteness is like the ONLY thing you have going for you, but the market is saturated with cute shy femboy boyfriends, babes. You need to pivot! Be a cute dommy mistress type! Stand out from the competition!"
"Mmhm," Měi Nán said through gritted teeth that somehow still formed a smile.
"Like seriously, the whole 'fragile flower who needs protecting' thing? It's so 2023. We're almost in 2026! You need to evolve! Be fierce! Be in control! Show these men that you're not just some pretty face they can obsess over!"
"Mmhm."
"And maybe work on your client screening? Because if you keep attracting psychos, that's kind of on you, you know? Like, there's clearly something about your energy that appeals to unstable men. Have you considered therapy? I know a great therapist who specializes in sex workers with boundary issues—"
"Yes."
"—and she could really help you develop better client selection criteria. Because honestly, if this is happening repeatedly, you need to look inward and ask yourself what you're doing to attract this kind of attention—"
"Mmhm."
"—and maybe diversify your services? Offer more than just the girlfriend experience? Branch out into different demographics? I'm just trying to help you succeed, bestie, because I care about you—"
"Mmhm."
"—even though you clearly don't care about yourself enough to make smart business decisions. Like, I'm out here running a legitimate company with employees and overhead and you're still doing the same thing you were doing three years ago—"
"Yes, that's great—"
"—and don't even get me started on your social media presence. Your Instagram is a MESS. The lighting in half your photos is terrible. You need to invest in a ring light at minimum. And your captions? Boring! You need to tell stories, create narrative, make people invested in your brand—"
This went on for five solid minutes. Ài Fēng talking in an endless stream of passive-aggressive 'advice' while Měi Nán responded with variations of "mmhm" and "yes" and the occasional "you're so right," his smile never wavering despite his hands clenching into fists.
Finally, FINALLY, Ài Fēng took a breath.
"But I guess I could get a couple movers to your area. Since we're such good friends and all. I'll call you back with details, okay? Some of us actually have real work to do. Unlike SOME people who just wait around for their phones to ring."
"You're such a lifesaver, honey! Thank you SO much!"
"Anytime, slutty bae! Kisses!" Ài Fēng blew an exaggerated kiss at the camera.
"Kisses!" Měi Nán returned the gesture with equal insincerity.
The call ended.
For exactly half a second, Měi Nán maintained the smile.
Then he hurled his phone across the room with enough force that it bounced off the opposite wall and landed on the couch cushions.
"I HATE HIM!" Měi Nán's voice was no longer sweet. "I hate him so much! 'Slutty bae'?! 'Only thing you have going for you'?! I'm going to—"
He stopped mid-rant, took a deep breath, and then his entire demeanor shifted. The anger dissolved into something softer, more vulnerable. He turned to Tòumíng and grabbed his arm, hugging it against his chest while pouting dramatically.
"That was so mean," he said in a small voice. "He's always so mean."