Little Qing Ling put down her chopsticks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes fixed on the steaming hot pot before her. “After my parents passed away, my aunt took me in. She wasn’t married and went through boyfriends quickly. None of the relationships lasted long.”0

“The summer after my first year in middle school, she took a man home. He was lecherous and often made dirty jokes. He looked at me in a disgusting way, too. Late one night, I woke up to someone picking the lock of my bedroom. I quickly hid under the bed, and the door opened. It was him…”0

“He was after you and you managed to escape.” Gao Yang made an educated guess. “You came to hate men since then.”0

“No.” Little Qing Ling’s story made a sudden turn. “He wasn’t a sexual...1