Beep! Beep!
Lan Yening glanced at his phone and saw a message from the "Trap Group" tagged to everyone.
Without thinking, he ignored it.
He had originally joined the group because of shared interests and a kindred spirit.
In the beginning, the group was made up of teenage boys to men in their twenties.
The group was quite harmonious at first.
Everyone shared tips on clothing and accessories, and exchanged casual updates about their lives.
But later, the tone shifted dramatically.
Especially after someone named "Anan" joined the group—it seemed his family was quite wealthy.
The photos he regularly posted were full of high-end Japanese brands.
Once, he even showed off a dress from "Dreams' Haven" that cost 35,000 yuan.
That would've been tolerable, but he often derided others as being low-class, wearing either domestic or no-name brands.
If someone was wearing a knockoff, their situation became even worse, as he'd lead everyone into humiliating them.
Because of this, many members of the group stopped participating in discussions.
Lan Yening deeply disliked him. In his view, cross-dressing was merely a personal hobby; there was no need to elevate it to such an absurd level.
Of course, buying fakes wasn't right, but was it really necessary to discriminate against domestic brands?
Glancing at the time, Lan Yening realized he needed to leave soon, or he'd miss his meeting with Lv Zhao. In the past, he'd been quite anxious when wearing dresses out on the street.
Afraid people would call him mentally ill.
But over time, he grew used to it. Although some would glance at him curiously, no one openly condemned him. That was the benefit of cultural tolerance.
The meetup location was once again "Spring Restaurant."
It was a Japanese-style "dining hall."
The owner, a promoter of Japanese culture, would rent the venue to "traps" at a discounted rate for a few hours each month to host "tea parties."
These so-called tea parties were essentially product expos, featuring new product launches, runway shows, and live sales events.
In the beginning, people would sit under the warm sunlight on lazy weekend afternoons, wear various styles of frilly dresses, sip tea, chat, and bond with each other.
But now everything had changed. If not for the money Lan Yening could earn from photographing the events, he wouldn't have attended at all.
After hailing a cab, Lan Yening arrived at the agreed meeting spot.
Lv Zhao was already waiting by the door.
"Hurry up— the event's about to start, and 'Dark Angel' will be here soon." Wearing a "Broken Doll" Lolita dress, Lv Zhao grabbed his hand.
The intimacy made Lan Yening a little uncomfortable, and he also wondered where Lv Zhao had gotten such an outfit.
That outfit wasn't inexpensive; it was a classic Japanese piece.
The metal pendants on the dress were said to be high-strength alloy, immune to fading or distortion.
"Zhaozhao, that dress must've cost quite a bit!"
"Not really; I got it second-hand, so it wasn't that expensive." Lv Zhao smiled.
Lan Yening nodded but didn't ask further.
Just as the two were about to go inside, they were stopped by a mocking voice behind them. "I didn't even want to attend such a low-tier gathering, but I came for your sake. And then you bring someone wearing knockoffs? Really?"
Lan Yening and Lv Zhao both turned at once to see a tall, long-legged cross-dresser in a "Night Angel" Lolita outfit standing there. He exuded icy arrogance, his brows raised in mockery.
"Dark Angel Aimo"—Lan Yening immediately recognized the Internet celebrity who was quite famous in the "trap circle."
Standing beside him was their group leader and the organizer of the event, "Dual-Color Sweetheart Li Xiang."
Seeing Aimo and Li Xiang, Lv Zhao suppressed his anger, unwilling to ruin their relationships, though his expression was dreadfully cold. He said icily, "Are you talking about me?"
"At least you're self-aware," Aimo sneered, then scanned Lan Yening from head to toe with a scornful look and smirked flirtatiously. "Kiddo, come with me. I'll support you. What's the point of hanging around with this loser?"
Hearing Aimo, Lan Yening's "celestial beauty" immediately turned red with shame and anger, his gaze full of indignation.
But his gentle, even timid, disposition kept him from speaking up. He just stood there with his head lowered.
"Watch your mouth! Who the hell are you calling a loser? Don't think just because you're some celeb that you're not just a mediocre influencer!" Lv Zhao's fury was instantly ignited when he noticed how Aimo looked at Lan Yening.
"Get the hell out of here! Who the fuck do you think you are?" Li Xiang, seeing Lv Zhao daring to talk back, immediately switched faces and started berating him.
The scolding stunned both Lv Zhao and Lan Yening.
Lv Zhao had always been an active member of the group, often helping Li Xiang recruit members, promote events, and contribute time and money to organizing them.
But now, Li Xiang had no qualms turning on him for the sake of this Internet celebrity.
In fact, it made sense. If Li Xiang could latch onto Aimo, his small circle would expand, and monthly sales of clothes and various other products would bring in significant income.
Lv Zhao was shaking with anger, glaring at Li Xiang. "Fine. Fine…"
Li Xiang, on the other hand, looked at him contemptuously, as though he were a useless dog.
Aimo sneered back, "What? Still not convinced?"
"Zhaozhao, let's just go. Forget it." Lan Yening tugged at Lv Zhao, whose eyes were bloodshot, his fists clenched tightly, as they prepared to leave.
By now, all the "sisters" attending the gathering had come out to watch the commotion, many pointing and whispering about Lv Zhao.
In the Lolita circle, wearing knockoffs was grounds for disdain.
Aimo stepped in front of them and said, "Ladies, you all saw that, didn't you? This chick is questioning my words."
Looking around, he continued, "You all know that the metal adornments on genuine 'Broken Doll' outfits are made from titanium alloy. Even a hammer couldn't damage them."
Seeing the nearby sisters nodding, Aimo went on, "Here's the deal: take one of the buttons off and smash it with a hammer. If it doesn't break, I'll pay you 100,000 yuan."
"Hah! Why should I listen to you?" Lv Zhao scoffed.
"Oh, so you're scared now? If it's authentic, what's there to fear?"
"I'm afraid you'll not pay up. Tossing around claims of 100,000? Who can't boast?"
Aimo chuckled at Lv Zhao's response. "You're not wrong to worry. These days, lots of people love to talk big."
With that, Aimo pulled out his phone and sent a message. About an hour later, four shady-looking bulky men arrived carrying a case.
During this time, Lan Yening had repeatedly suggested that Lv Zhao apologize and leave, but Lv Zhao stood firm, his face pale with rage.
"See this? This is 100,000 yuan, freshly withdrawn from the bank," Aimo said, motioning for one of the bearded men to open the case. Inside, stacks of red 100-yuan notes were neatly packed.
Lv Zhao said nothing, but his face grew darker and darker.
"Smash it! Smash it! Smash it!"
At this moment, the "sisters" who usually called each other besties began gleefully egging him on.
"Fine, I'll smash it!" Unable to take it anymore, Lv Zhao roared, causing his male voice to slip out this time.
"Good! Bold move. But if I lose, I'll give you 100,000. What if you're really wearing a knockoff?"
"Say what you want."
"I won't make it too hard for you. Just take off the dress and walk across the street. That's it."
Aimo's words sent the surrounding "sisters" into fits of laughter.
At this moment, Lan Yening felt an unprecedented sense of fear. These supposedly cheerful people he'd thought were decent could harbor such malice.
"I'm sorry, Aimo. We apologize. Please forgive us," Lan Yening bowed deeply, hoping to defuse the situation and leave.
"Fuck you…"
"Smack!"
The person who cursed at Lan Yening wasn't Aimo, but one of the thugs he'd brought. The one who struck was Aimo himself—though the one getting hit was the thug who swore.
"Who the fuck gave you permission to speak? No manners." Aimo pulled out a pristine white handkerchief, wiped his hand, and smiled at Lan Yening, "Don't worry, I only have some grudges with your friend. Just sit back and watch."
Seeing the thug's face swelling and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, Lan Yening didn't dare say a single word.
Although he and Lv Zhao were close friends, his timid nature meant this was all he could do for him.
"Aimo, enough of this charade. Let's see if I don't crush your smug face…bring me the hammer." Overcome with rage, Lv Zhao shouted furiously.