“Don’t worry A-Cheng, this is the kind of party that expects everyone to be using fake names. It would be horribly against the rules for anyone to acknowledge who you actually are, even if they do recognise either of you. Trust me, there will be far more interesting things going on than watching Chifeng-zun and Sandu Shengshou tonight. All you have to do is play it cool, make it seem like you’re there for the same reasons as everyone else, and nobody will meet your eyes. Piece of cake!” Huaisang sounds positively chipper, which means Jiang Cheng is almost certainly going to have the worst night of his life tonight. Or: Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue steal a sex party

It doesn’t occur to him to ask what helping would entail until Mikey gives him a sideways look. “Don’t think it’s the kind of help you should ask your brother for,” he says. “But thanks.” Gerard tries to think of something he wouldn’t help Mikey do, but there’s nothing. He’d drive a getaway car, bury a body, even give him bone marrow, and he’s seen the needles they use to get at that shit. “There’s no such thing,” he says. Mikey shrugs, picks up an ad for lipstick and starts tearing around the edge of the logo. “It’s kind of a sex thing,” he mumbles.