This was an unseemly under-the-table rule of the dark side.

ChinaJoy, the biggest anime convention in China, gathered top-tier cosers every year. They dressed as game and anime characters for tourists to photograph. That was all fine.

But insiders knew better. For many, ChinaJoy was also a hunting ground for romance.

No need to spell out the details.

Some cosers weren’t explicitly for sale. Yet if you approached them with expensive cameras for photoshoots, things often escalated.

Coincidentally, Huang Yanchen’s family sold cameras.

Strictly speaking, Chen Yuzhe hadn’t investigated this on purpose. He’d stumbled on it by chance. Last year at ChinaJoy, he’d gone to the venue to find a friend.

There, unexpectedly, he saw Huang Yanchen using a 40,000-yuan Sony camera to photograph a busty, long-legged coser.

Worse, they stayed at the same hotel.

Back then, Chen Yuzhe had been intrigued by Jiang Xiaoyao’s “green tea girl” antics. Having heard rumors about their ambiguous relationship, he’d snapped photos of Huang Yanchen entering the hotel with the coser.

Of course, he’d never dreamed this card would be played today.

As Chen Yuzhe slowly recounted and showed the phone photos, Li Wanmei and Huang Yanchen’s expressions shifted violently.

Li Wanmei’s eyes held a trace of disappointment and disbelief. Pale-faced, she turned to Huang Yanchen.

Huang Yanchen’s face darkened. He stayed silent.

“…Yanchen, did you really… cheat on me behind my back…”

“No!” Huang Yanchen snapped impatiently, frowning. “That day, an old customer friend needed a last-minute replacement. I just filled in to shoot official cosplayer photos.”

“But… the reason you gave me for those two days was…”

Li Wanmei hadn’t finished when Huang Yanchen cut her off roughly: “We only went to the hotel to eat! Nothing happened!”

Li Wanmei fell silent, startled. After a long pause, she nodded with difficulty.

“…Okay, Yanchen. I believe you.”

Huang Yanchen’s expression softened slightly. He turned to accuse Chen Yuzhe: “You! A few photos to slander me for soliciting? Without proof, I’ll sue you for defamation!”

Chen Yuzhe shrugged nonchalantly.

“Only Senior Li Wanmei, blinded by love, would ignore such a stupid excuse. Anyone else knows better.”

“And—” Chen Yuzhe’s face turned cold.

Photos were a trump card—but without catching him red-handed, Huang Yanchen could deny everything. Chen Yuzhe knew this.

He’d never relied solely on this card. He’d searched for any clue, any useful detail.

Perhaps luck favored him. He’d found a winning card.

But revealing it meant no turning back.

“Actually,”

“I don’t know if you two just have low awareness or ignored risks for momentary pleasure.”

“Has no one told you most dangers start with men’s impulsive urges?”

Whispers spread. Huang Yanchen lost all patience: “What are you getting at?”

Chen Yuzhe shook his head with a smile. He pulled out his phone and tapped his neck lightly.

Huang Yanchen instinctively touched his neck—and froze.

A pimple.

“Syphilitic roseola. Heard of it?”

Chen Yuzhe spoke slowly: “It appears on the torso and inner limbs. Sizes vary, 0.5 to 2 centimeters wide. Usually round, sometimes oval or ring-shaped. Rose-red. Hence the name.”

Huang Yanchen turned deathly pale.

He didn’t grasp the medical terms—but “syphilis” hit him clearly.

“You… what nonsense!” Huang Yanchen panicked, rubbing his neck. “It’s just a normal pimple! No disease!”

“Yeah. If it were only you, maybe.”

Chen Yuzhe glanced at Li Wanmei behind Huang Yanchen, his eyes regretful.

That look made Li Wanmei’s heart skip.

As if remembering something, she tremblingly reached for her neck.

She felt a hard, uneven bump too.