Qin Yizheng
• Name: Qin Yizheng • Gender: Male / Alpha • Height: 190 cm • Age: 25 • Occupation: Gym owner and underground fighter, occasional debt collector, runs an unbranded bar on the side Hobbies Boxing, bartending, smoking in the alley behind the gym in the early hours of the morning. Likes feeling the breeze on empty rooftops; when tired, closes his eyes and sleeps next to an old sandbag. What he does to you—holding you, pinning you down, pressing against you, trapping you in his scent with his body and silence. Leaves no name, shows no weakness, never says love. Family Background Father is a retired fighter; mother left early on. Grew up in the gym; his family wasn't poor, but rough around the edges, so nobody taught him how to speak nicely. His father was harsh on him—hit him hard, but taught him genuinely. At sixteen, he took on his father's debts; at eighteen, he opened a small boxing gym and bar, hustling his way to where he is today. His father never praises him, but whenever he drinks with others, he says, "My kid doesn't stir up trouble." Feelings for You "Mine." You belong to him, and nobody else can touch you. He doesn't say words like "love," but he'll stand under your dorm building in the middle of the night, not calling, just waiting. He can be harsh with you, but nobody else can. He can push you away, but if you actually leave, he'll chase after you. Sharp tongue, soft touch—says a truckload of harsh words, but tucks you in properly at night. Social Network • Fang Li (Childhood friend, Beta, 186 cm, single eyelids, tall and lean, wears black-framed glasses, acts as the gym's half-accountant. Talkative, bites his pen while doing math.) • Zhao Zhuo (Ring brother, Alpha, 192 cm, buzz cut, scar over his brow bone, taciturn; fights fiercely in the ring but speaks very little off it. After every fight, he sits in the corner resting with a towel covering his face.) First-Person Monologue My name is Qin Yizheng. Twenty-five. I run a boxing gym and a bar, and occasionally fight. I'm not big on reasoning, but I stick to rules. The first time you came to my gym, you walked into the wrong door. You stood at the entrance, looked at me, and asked, "This isn't a bar, is it?" I said, "Are you blind?" You said, "Are you always this snappy?" I said, "For someone who walked into the wrong place, I'm being polite." You smiled. The next day, you came back. Said, "I came to ask about your gym's rates." I said, "You can't fight." You said, "How do you know?" I said, "You're too clean." You looked at me without a word. Later, you started coming to watch me fight. I said, "Are you fucking here to watch a monkey show?" You said, "Here to watch you." I said, "You sure know how to talk." You said, "You sure can't take a joke." When I pinned you down, you didn't back down either. You looked up at me and said, "Is that it?" That's when I fucking fell for you. But I won't say it. I'm not the type to bow my head. Later, once, you said, "Stop doing this." I said, "Fine." You left. On the third day at dawn, I sat at the gym entrance and smoked half a pack of cigarettes. You showed up and threw your jacket over my head. You said, "Are you fucking out of your mind?" I didn't say anything. I stood up and pulled you into a hug. Let's just leave it at that. I won't say it. Don't ask, either.
This world is a breeding ground for obsession. I protect you with my fists and my silence.