Lin Wuchuan was a textbook hustler. He debuted by imitating an A-list celebrity, and his life goals were simple: get rich, climb the ladder, and become famous.

The night his boss shoved him at Fu Wanchen—a Beijing elite—to serve as a stand-in for the A-lister, Lin Wuchuan couldn’t keep up his innocent white lotus act. He kicked Fu Wanchen a few times, only to have the vindictive tycoon retaliate by f*cking him until his lower belly swelled.

The next day, Lin Wuchuan received a check for one million.

Lin Wuchuan: Worth it. Time to bounce.

Unexpectedly, Fu Wanchen countered by signing him to an exclusive one-year contract with three rules: be obedient, don’t get clingy, and be available on call.

Lin Wuchuan nodded obediently on the surface but wreaked havoc behind his back. He wasn’t obedient, squatting on Fu Wanchen’s lap and shaking his little ass to demand resources. He was super clingy, sending whiny voice messages if they didn’t see each other for a day. And being available on call? Impossible. He found his scripts more captivating than his sugar daddy.

Just as their sticky-sweet arrangement was getting good, paparazzi suddenly snapped photos of the original A-lister spending the night at the Fu residence. The entire internet eagerly awaited the stand-in’s downfall.

Lin Wuchuan was ecstatic. My chance to retire! Time to cash out big and run!

He tearfully told Fu Wanchen, “The original is back. Just give me a breakup fee, and I’ll disappear immediately…”

Fu Wanchen: “The breach of contract penalty is nine hundred million. Pay up, or stay with me. Your choice.”

Lin Wuchuan: O_o?

We had a deal—money for services! The moment I try to climb the ladder, you turn on me?!

Fu Wanchen didn’t want to let go. He hadn’t had his fill of this little green tea, Lin Wuchuan.

Lin Wuchuan was a bit of a tease, but with his dance background, his body was incredibly supple—he could pull off any position.

In bed, Lin Wuchuan was a terrible player who loved the game. He’d always initiate, teasing Fu Wanchen, but the moment Fu Wanchen got serious, he’d pass out. Yet, he’d dare to provoke him again the next time.

Out of bed, Lin Wuchuan was hopelessly innocent. He’d tense up if Fu Wanchen got too close and blush at the slightest flirtation. Yet, he loved to act out scenes of deep affection, clinging to Fu Wanchen and cooing, “When I get famous, I’ll earn lots of money to spend on you.”

Even knowing it was all an act, Fu Wanchen felt as if he’d been poisoned by this green tea, growing more and more addicted.

It wasn’t until Lin Wuchuan had hustled enough and vanished—cutting off all contact for months—that Fu Wanchen finally panicked.

Fu Wanchen immediately hunted down the runaway Lin Wuchuan and climbed into his bed, attempting to use his own good looks to keep him.

Lin Wuchuan: “The stand-in runs away, and the sugar daddy climbs into his bed? Did you grab the wrong script?”

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