FY - 22

Autumn arrived a little late, but it was undeniable. It brought cold air, raising goosebumps on everyone who hadn’t taken it seriously.

A month had passed since Zhao Youjin caused trouble for Zhou Yan at Candy. Candy seemed to have amnesia, never mentioning that incident again. Of course, Si Wen and Zhao Youjin wouldn’t allow it to be remembered.

After Si Wen’s “get out” sent Zhou Yan away, he never looked for her again. Her life had been relatively calm.

The bruises on her neck had faded, and the marks on her face were lighter, invisible with foundation. When receiving clients, she became that person again: smiling at you, undressing for you, but showing no emotion, completely devoid of sexual impulse.

Yet, strangely, even like this, many men still requested her.

Sister Hong used to say that most men are like that; even when paying, they don’t want the other party to strip naked at a single glance. They like those with dull eyes, as this ignites their desire for conquest.

The hostesses and escorts at Candy all knew this, but they couldn’t learn it. Once men stacked money on the table, they would spinelessly fall at their crotches, eagerly soliciting sex.

In their eyes, what were their bodies and dignity compared to money?

One evening, Zhou Yan was working as a hostess. The client was a 4S dealership sales manager. He tore open her top and repeatedly made attempts towards her breasts, but Sister Hong always blocked him, telling him countless times: “Boss, I’m sorry, she only works as a hostess.”

The manager was displeased, but the next morning when the sun rose, he still had to earn money with his hypocritical demeanor, so even if he was drunk, he wouldn’t lose his temper. If it got out that his clients knew he was a hypocrite, he’d have to kiss his job goodbye.

He wouldn’t allow that to happen; he could only regretfully watch Zhou Yan put on her bra.

Zhou Yan finished her two-hour hostess shift and went to the changing room to change out of her torn clothes.

The changing room she commonly used was shared by about ten hostesses. Sometimes, upon entering, you’d see a manager pressing a hostess against the makeup counter, doing it, their joined bodies reflected in the mirror, as they exchanged lewd insults.

At such times, she pretended not to see, entered a small cubicle, and pulled the curtain.

She took off her broken clothes, threw them in the trash, and clocked out.

Sister Hong was at the changing room door, halfway through a cigarette.

Zhou Yan smoothed her hair and asked casually, “Something wrong?”

Sister Hong didn’t answer, walking outside.

Zhou Yan followed.

Sister Hong led Zhou Yan to the billiard hall across the street. From there, looking at Candy, you could truly only see its superficial, glamorous shell.

Zhou Yan, wanting a cigarette, didn’t feel like talking much: “Speak.”

Sister Hong offered her a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Zhou Yan didn’t take them: “I’m in a hurry to go home.”

Sister Hong placed the cigarettes on the railing, took a puff, and exhaled: “I didn’t force you to sell yourself, and I won’t force you to change your ways. But you’ve seen it, Candy, with its solid foundation and stable structure, also swayed precariously in front of Si Wen.”

Zhou Yan listened.

“He trampled Zhao Youjin underfoot, in front of so many people, but from the moment he carried you away, the whole city seemed to forget. He’s too capable, and Candy is too small.”

Every word Sister Hong said was an implicit dismissal. She used to think Zhou Yan staying at Candy was understandable, and Zhou Yan fearing Si Wen was also understandable.

And from her perspective, many clients liked to request Zhou Yan for drinks, which also benefited her.

But times were different now. The repercussions of Si Wen’s actions were too strong. Though no one dared to mention it, it hadn’t prevented widespread panic.

The girls secretly competed, thinking Si Wen favored Zhou Yan, even though she was a prostitute, he didn’t hesitate to turn against the powerful Zhao Youjin for her. They also felt Candy was unfair, unilaterally granting Zhou Yan special privileges; she publicly defied Zhao Youjin and caused such a huge impact on Candy without any punishment. Yet, not long ago, Fang Nana and Milk Tea were shown no mercy.

With resentment in their hearts, they weren’t focused enough. Without focus, they received more complaints. More complaints deepened the resentment.

This was a cycle; they were trapped in it, and if it continued, they would eventually reach a dead end.

By then, the situation would be hard to control, and she, the madam, would still have to take the blame. If it happened too many times, who knew if Boss Huang would fire her?

This was her livelihood; she didn’t want to lose it.

Zhou Yan understood: “How many good memories do you think Candy has left for Si Wen?”

Sister Hong turned her head to look at her.

“Almost none.”

“You think I’m important to him. So if I leave, can Candy still survive?”

Sister Hong pursed her lips; the topic couldn’t continue.

She looked into the distance, then suddenly wanted to ask her: “You’re someone he’s willing to spend time and money on. Since he values you so much, why does he still allow you to be here? Here, even if you were just a waitress, you’d still be taken advantage of.”

Si Wen’s treatment of Zhou Yan had always been dictatorial and autocratic, without explanation.

In previous years, whenever Zhou Yan had questions, she would ask him, but he always explicitly refused to answer. After a while, she asked less.

She also made such bewildering decisions, and she was questioned by countless people. Why did you do this? Why didn’t you do that? If you did it this way, you would definitely...

Why so many questions? She acted the way she did because she was Zhou Yan, and only she was Zhou Yan.

Similarly, whatever Si Wen thought or did was his business. Zhou Yan only needed to be herself, not interfering with him in any way. In their relationship, that was enough.

If she truly couldn’t help it, she would ask him. If he didn’t answer, so be it.

This was good. She was satisfied with this.

Sister Hong didn’t get an answer from Zhou Yan and stopped asking.

She just said: “Can you let me scold you once? In front of them. There are so many people; I can’t just ignore them and let them think you get preferential treatment; it’s really hard to control. Can you just do it as charity?”

Zhou Yan could hear the urgency in her voice.

But why should she? Sister Hong used to mislead those people, letting them malign her, and they reveled in it. Why didn’t they think they were going too far then? Now, just because Si Wen carried her away and Candy didn’t punish her, they were this jealous?

Then why didn’t they see her on the brink of death in Si Wen’s arms?

She exchanged her life for this tiny bit of special treatment, but they only saw this tiny bit of special treatment.

“No.”

Sister Hong’s brows rose. Her trembling fingers reached for a cigarette, but she accidentally knocked it down. She glanced down, gritting her teeth.

She had expected Zhou Yan’s answer. Her warning to Zhou Yan when she dealt with Fang Nana last time was still fresh in her mind, but she truly had no other option. The longer those girls harbored this imbalanced mentality, the more hidden dangers Candy would have, and the closer she would be to the abyss.

She turned around and pleaded: “Does it have to end in death? Is that what you want to see? We’re not the ones who hurt you.”

Zhou Yan smiled bitterly: “But when my life was hanging by a thread, who among you extended a helping hand?”

In the end, it was still Si Wen.

The injury was given by him, and the medicine was also given by him.

He might not be worthy of gratitude, but what right did those who stood by coldly have to ask for her help? She couldn’t provoke Zhao Youjin’s power in Qizhou, but she could certainly provoke this group of hostesses at Candy?

How selfish Zhou Yan was, how pragmatic. The only exception had already been given away; as for the rest, she’d rather not.

Sister Hong clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms: “I’ll give you money.”

Zhou Yan glanced at her: “That depends on how much you give.”

Sister Hong gritted her back teeth: “Twenty thousand.”

Zhou Yan turned and walked away. She had wasted enough time.

Sister Hong called out to her: “A hundred thousand!”

Zhou Yan didn’t stop, but she raised a hand: “When the money arrives, I’ll play along with your act.”

Sister Hong leaned against the railing, completely drained.

She was wrong. Zhou Yan was nothing like Shen Yudie. Shen Yudie would never be so calculating. Nor would she appear to have a hundred faces but only one soul beneath the skin.

________________________________________

Back home, Zhou Siyuan was still awake, watching a movie, being very well-behaved.

He recently liked watching suspense films. Zhou Yan initially thought this genre wasn’t suitable for his age and downloaded many animated movies for him, but besides a few dark ones he watched once, the others were now God knows where.

Zhou Siyuan smiled sweetly at Zhou Yan: “Sister.”

Zhou Yan changed her shoes and walked over to pat his head: “Still not asleep.”

Zhou Siyuan pointed at the TV: “Almost finished.”

Zhou Yan poured herself a glass of water to drink, then poured one for Zhou Siyuan. The camera happened to flash past the male protagonist smoking, a cigarette half-dangling from his mouth, his gaze lowered, eyelids slightly drooped, looking world-weary yet very alluring.

She suddenly thought of Si Wen; when he smoked, he attacked people’s adrenal glands in the same way.

He also taught her that cigarettes and alcohol were the most loyal things in the world to oneself.

Zhou Siyuan gradually became excited, pulling the deeply musing Zhou Yan back to reality: “The killer is about to appear!”

Zhou Yan had seen this movie before and intentionally asked him: “Do you know who the killer is?”

“The one in white clothes.”

Zhou Yan raised an eyebrow: “Why?”

“Because only he has no motive for murder.”

He guessed correctly. It was indeed the one in white clothes.

Zhou Siyuan continued: “Most genius crimes have no reason; they just enjoy the thrill of the crime. So, when a movie heavily promotes the killer’s genius background, that movie won’t be about grudges and revenge.”

“Then those with a murder motive are definitely not the killer.”

Zhou Yan wasn’t surprised by Zhou Siyuan’s words. Practice makes perfect; he watched these types of things all the time, so he could imitate them now. But she didn’t want him to think it was cool. “Siyuan, do you think he’s handsome?”

Zhou Siyuan shook his head: “Bad guys can’t be described with words like ‘handsome’ or ‘not handsome.’ No matter how handsome he is, he’s still a bad guy.”

Zhou Yan smiled, pulling him into her embrace: “The prettier something is, the more dangerous it is. Since it’s dangerous, stay far away.”

Zhou Siyuan whispered in Zhou Yan’s arms: “Can Sister do that?”

Zhou Yan frowned.