Bai Jin’s first impression of Qiuqiu was not good. It was not just because Qiuqiu dressed too trendily, but also because the last ti they t, Qiuqiu had been slapped by a woman and drenched in water.
"Sotis what you see with your eyes isn’t the truth, just like dostic violence—looking gentle doesn’t an a man won’t be violent, and dressing fashionably doesn’t an a man is unreliable," Qian said to Bai Jin.
Bai Jin reflexively glanced at Qiuqiu. Was Qian talking about him?
Could it be that this man isn’t as bad as imagined?
The second ti Bai Jin t Qiuqiu, her impression of him changed slightly due to Qian’s words, but at most, she didn’t dislike him—she hadn’t yet reached the point of having a favorable impression.
"It’s still early; shall we eat together?" Qian asked everyone.
"This interview won’t work out. I have other stories to chase; maybe another day," Bai Jin hastily bid farewell and hopped onto her scooter, continuing to weave through the city tracking her stories.
"Unexpected to et a journalist like this nowadays; every other one I’ve t just stays inside making stuff up," Qiuqiu comnted.
"Those who have professional ambitions tend to struggle more than those who take shortcuts."
Qiuqiu was about to nod when Qian added,
"Trying hard is not as important as having a good dad. People like Bai Jin, who have ideals but no backing, have to fight against life, but she enjoys it; it’s good—a person lives their own way."
"..." Qiuqiu and Liui were speechless; no wonder she’s the queen of blunt remarks—speaking so sharply.
"So no matter how twisted your life gets or how tough the future seems, as long as you’re happy, it’s worthwhile," Qian said, patting Qiuqiu on the shoulder, which made Qiuqiu feel healed.
"Having you around is great." If not for Qian, Qiuqiu wasn’t sure how difficult life would be.
"Feel better now? Co on, we’re all hungry; let’s find sowhere to eat."
"Sure—hold on, I have a call." Qiuqiu pulled out his phone and saw the caller ID, imdiately his face turned cold.
"Not gonna answer?" Liui saw Qiuqiu press the reject button.
"My dad called; days ago he sohow got a contact for a psychological treatnt center down south that claims it can correct sexual orientation. He insists on taking there, saying after a month I’ll be able to marry and have kids with a man—it makes my skin crawl."
"Is there such a place?" Qian frowned.
"Yes, it claims that no matter how established one’s homosexuality, undergoing systematic treatnt there will turn you ’normal,’ misleading my dad into thinking I could marry and have kids."
"Nonsense. Gender identity disorders—if in children—can be addressed with various treatnts, but for adults, even consulting a psychologist involves a year of gender identity experience before considering further steps. No top authority would dare claim one month leads to family life; it’s pure nonsense."
Qian felt it was akin to an outrageous fantasy.
Childhood gender identity disorder can receive psychological intervention, but for psychologists addressing soone like Qiuqiu, the goal isn’t to force Qiuqiu into womanhood—it’s about preventing depression, anxiety, and suicide, helping them live safely.
Helping individuals with gender identity disorder to survive is what psychologists aim to do because the suicide rate is particularly high among them. So may feel compelled to undergo gender transition, but the life afterward isn’t always ideal; indeed, many even die post-transition.
Qiuqiu has been saving money, hoping for gender reassignnt. Psychologists conduct extensive tests and interventions before transitioning due to post-surgery depression and suicide.
It’s a very tricky issue, yet an institution shalessly claims it can restore Qiuqiu’s womanhood, which Qian couldn’t tolerate.
It’s simply a blatant challenge to contemporary psychology.
"That’s why I didn’t answer my dad’s call; I won’t go. I’m doing well as a man; reverting to womanhood isn’t living—it would be forcing to die." Qiuqiu now imdiately hangs up when he sees his dad’s calls.
"Right, not going is wise. Once I finish my tasks, I’ll consult my professor for a review of that so-called institution. By the way, how’s your conversation with the friend I introduced?" Qian asked.
She previously connected Bai Jin’s ssenger account to Qiuqiu, wondering how their talks are now.
Upon ntioning this online friend, Qiuqiu couldn’t help but beam.
"Qian, where did you find soone so interesting? Really... amazing."
Apparently, the conversations were going well.
Qiuqiu hadn’t t soone who clicks so well for a long ti.
Moreover, unexpectedly, this online user, nad Baihe, shares similar views; they chat every night online.
No matter the topic, they resonate so well. Qiuqiu also discovered this Baihe seems to be a lesbian, which intrigued Qiuqiu—if they t, might there be sparks?
"Why not exchange phone numbers?" Qian could tell from Qiuqiu’s expression there might be potential.
"I don’t know why... I’ve been wanting to these past days, but just afraid..."
Afraid that eting up would result in being slapped like previous encounters. Others calling him a freak is one thing, but if Baihe said so, Qiuqiu felt he would definitely be hurt.
"Alright, I understand; this Saturday I’ll arrange it—let’s et for karaoke," Qian decided. Rightfully cautious before connecting them, concerned about potential harm, she felt there might be a chance given the conversation progress. If so, a face-to-face might be worthwhile.
As for that absurd institution, Qian and Qiuqiu left it behind. Little did they know, what seed absurd would beco pivotal in Qiuqiu’s life later.
Qiuqiu was greatly looking forward to the weekend karaoke plan Qian suggested, yet unexpectedly neither this Sunday nor the next—nor even the month after—did it happen because Qian faced a series of incidents starting from the ball ga.
After dinner, Qian settled on the sofa with her book, while Liui was browsing online, when suddenly Liui shouted in tension.
"Oh my!"
"What happened?" Qian, accustod to Liui’s straight-forward reactions.
"I saw sothing big on a junior high classmate’s social dia! Sis, trouble brewing!"
Upon hearing it was from social dia, Qian responded nonchalantly.
"Oh."
"Don’t just ’oh’—I’m so anxious, do you know what it says?" Liui snatched Qian’s pen, genuinely worried.
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