Sunday
Blue skies, white clouds, a sunny and cloudless day.
Yuwei works part-ti at a maid café.
This was agreed upon with the company because she couldn't survive on the ager stipend they provided.
Now, perhaps you're wondering: doesn't the company pay them for dancing?
They do—there's a fixed stipend. Take note: it's a stipend, not a salary.
Because a salary is compensation paid as part of a formal labor contract.
Once a formal labor contract is signed, the company is required to provide insurance for the idols and pay them wages that are no less than the local minimum wage.
But a stipend is considered a temporary allowance that doesn't involve such obligations.
This way, the company saves a significant amount of money and can freely deduct the hard-earned money of these young idols.
Another benefit is that if an idol is deed unqualified, they can be fired at any ti without paying a penny in breach penalties.
However, when a young idol wants to leave the company freely, it's not permitted—instead, they have to pay a hefty breach penalty.
Dressed in a Lolita outfit, Yuwei holds a piping bag, standing respectfully and warmly beside a middle-aged man as she asks, "What would you like to write on your cake?"
The well-dressed man, wearing gold-rimd glasses, chuckled and said, "Write the word 'maid'."
Yuwei imdiately and cheerfully wrote the two characters in the cafe's mock island language.
The business at the café was quite good, attracting many diners eager to sample the food.
There was also a dedicated ga area where the staff could play a variety of gas with the custors—for a fee, of course.
After a full day of work, Yuwei felt fulfilled and content, especially at the mont she received her wages.
"Yuwei, heading ho?" A fair-skinned, quiet-looking "girl" smiled at her.
In truth, this wasn't a "her," but a crossdressing young man who wore Lolita dresses at the café to cater to certain niche custor groups.
His na was Lan Yening. He ca from a single-parent family, and his tuition fees were covered by student loans.
However, his appearance was incredibly striking, especially his eyes, which seed to conceal the brilliance of stars and moonlight.
Yuwei knew he had a crush on her, but she simply couldn't reciprocate.
"Heading ho. I have class tomorrow, so I need to get so rest early," Yuwei replied.
A trace of sadness flashed in Lan Yening's eyes.
He understood that the girl before him wouldn't accept him; perhaps, deep in her heart, she even despised him.
He also knew that many people didn't understand or outright discriminated against crossdressers like him.
But ever since he was little, whenever he saw girls in brand-new puff dresses, looking like proud little princesses, he couldn't help but feel imnse envy.
From that mont on, owning a beautiful dress beca his greatest wish.
When he grew older, he stumbled upon a set of photos online.
A delicate-looking girl, wearing a tiara and an ornate, gorgeous dress, taking pictures in a fantastical castle, as if she had walked right out of a fairy tale.
His heart was utterly moved.
After that, he beca acquainted with Lolita clothing and eventually turned to crossdressing to be able to afford such dresses—to beco a princess straight out of a fairy tale.
However, his interest was purely aesthetic; deep down, he was still just a boy.
"Yuwei, I want to... I want to..." Lan Yening mustered his courage to speak but was cut off by Yuwei's firm refusal.
"Sorry, Xiao Ning, I really need to rest."
Yuwei knew how to be decisive—this was the kind of situation where you had to sever ties cleanly, without giving soone false hope.
She wasn't the type of "green tea" who would string people along even if she didn't like them.
"Alright, alright then!" Lan Yening tried his best not to appear too disappointed.
"Buddy, she's a young idol aiming to beco famous—how could she possibly fall for soone like you?" A "girl" dressed in a long black dress, wearing a tallic chain with blood-red lips and dyed white hair, said coldly.
"Young idol?" Lan Yening looked stunned.
"Yes, she's a young idol at the 'Star Dream' theater. I have friends who often go there to watch performances," Lv Zhao replied coldly.
Lv Zhao was also a crossdresser like Lan Yening.
Lan Yening stood frozen, staring at the direction in which Yuwei had disappeared, ntally fixating on the word "idol."
"No wonder she's so different from everyone else here—she never takes photos with custors or plays gas with them," he muttered.
Lv Zhao sneered, "Buddy, she has her eyes on wealthy patrons who invest in her career—girls like that aren't within your league."
Lv Zhao's words cut into Lan Yening's heart like a knife, imdiately dimming his expression.
He knew that besides his good looks, he had nothing.
Seeing Lan Yening's troubled and pained face, a strange expression flickered across Lv Zhao's icy features.
"Xiao Ning, are you joining the gathering the day after tomorrow?" Lv Zhao asked.
"I don't think so. We're crossdressers just trying to scrape by—those gatherings are all about comparing and competing; there's really no point," Lan Yening replied.
"I think you should go! I heard a well-known live-strear from the crossdressing community, 'Dark Angel,' will attend this ti. You know he's quite famous online; maybe he'll take a liking to us and lend us a hand," Lv Zhao said.
Lv Zhao's words made Lan Yening pensive. Truth be told, he was a simple and reserved person, content with a quiet life.
But whenever he thought of Yuwei, his tranquil heart felt restless.
He adored Yuwei and wanted to be with her, but without money, it wasn't possible.
"Alright, I'll go," Lan Yening said through gritted teeth.
Yuwei was preparing to hail a cab to go ho as she left the maid café when she suddenly heard a car horn behind her.
Instinctively, she turned around and saw a Lamborghini.
Yuwei quickly walked over, and Wu Jingwen opened the door.
"Yuwei, what a coincidence! What are you doing here?" asked Wu Jingwen, smiling at Yuwei, who was now sitting in the passenger seat.
"I'm working here. Teacher Wu, why are you here?"
She didn't know why, but every ti she saw this teacher, an inexplicable joy filled her heart.
"I was planning to grab a al. You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Wu Jingwen said with a smile.
"I've already eaten," Yuwei replied.
She could sense that Teacher Wu seed to want to invite her for a al, but as a student, she felt it inappropriate to let her teacher treat her.
Wu Jingwen chuckled, "Then join for a glass of wine. Eating alone all the ti is so lonely."
Yuwei wanted to decline, feeling a bit embarrassed, but the words got stuck in her throat and didn't co out.
Mingzhu No. 1.
The most renowned French restaurant in the area.
Yuwei had only heard of it before but had never stepped inside.
When the neatly dressed server opened the door,
what unfolded before her eyes was a magnificent and opulent space.
Elegant crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow, exuding an air of grace and tranquility throughout the restaurant.
Vivid murals and luxurious European-style furniture radiated aristocratic sophistication.
Suddenly, Yuwei felt that her T-shirt, skirt, and cheap little backpack created a stark contrast with the surroundings.
Especially when a group of won seated at a larger table nearby, dressed in high-end gowns, styled with large waves, and wearing elaborate makeup, shot her a disdainful look.
"Teacher Wu, how about we go sowhere else? Look at what I'm wearing..."
"You look perfectly fine! This is exactly what girls your age should wear. So people are older and might want to dress like this but can't pull it off anymore," Wu Jingwen said with a grin.
Yuwei's mind buzzed, her pupils dilating in shock.
She hadn't anticipated that the usually gentle and refined Teacher Wu could be so sharp-tongued.
She realized that Teacher Wu was subtly referring to the nearby "ladies."
Instantly, Yuwei felt reassured and her fear dissipated.
The won glared fiercely in response. One of them seed about to say sothing but was stopped by the person next to her, who muttered grudgingly and kept quiet.
Yuwei then noticed that only one person at their table had a few dishes and a glass of wine in front of them, while the others had only glasses of water.
She suddenly understood—they were the so-called "fake socialites."
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