A Male Model's Rise: From Living on Steamed Buns to Mastering the Rules

“Zhou Ye, Room 308, three hours.” The floor manager flung my name badge at my face. “Bring your hard steamed bun, and don’t gross out the customers again.

I clenched the half of yesterday’s cold steamed bun in my pocket until my knuckles turned white. Next door, Lin Xiao, the club’s top model, was surrounded by wealthy women feeding him imported steak. The tips he made in one night were worth nearly half a year of my hard work. We were both male models at the White Horse Club, so why was he living in luxury while I could only gnaw on a dry, hard bun?

The male models here were ranked into all sorts of tiers. The top ones made six figures for a night in bed, while a “tough nut” like me only got clients with special fetishes. They loved watching me eat a steamed bun with cold water. The more pathetic I looked, the more they tipped.

Then one day, I caught Lin Xiao spitting into my bun. He planted his foot on my face and sneered, “You’ll never get to live off someone else, because this business doesn’t want integrity. It wants you to know your place as a dog.”

All the humiliation I’d held inside erupted at once. If this circle played dirty, then I’d flip the table. I secretly recorded a video of the boss bribing officials, slipped a laxative into Lin Xiao’s champagne, and finally mass-mailed the secret list of clients’ special requests to the entire internet.

From now on, I make the rules. I’m done chewing on steamed buns. I’ll be the one in control!