FY - 3

The Chuanguo Courtyard in Dongcheng was one of the earliest developed real estate properties in Qizhou. Five years ago, its property rights expired and were acquired by Xilin Real Estate for construction. It opened for sale in June of the same year, and now its occupancy rate has reached eighty percent.

The smallest apartment unit here costs over six million, and the one Zhou Yan was going to was the largest among all the units.

The taxi stopped at the entrance of the complex. She scanned to pay, then swiped her card to enter the compound.

Building 6, apartment 2303. She had walked this path too many times; it was familiar territory.

Entering the door, she heard the sound of water from the bathroom. She placed her room card on the entrance cabinet, took off her shoes, and walked barefoot towards the bathroom, undressing as she went.

Arriving at the doorway, she took a towel from the shelf and gently wiped the back of the body under the shower. Facing his body covered in scars, she showed no reaction. She had seen them too many times.

In this world, no one should be more familiar with this body than her.

The person, who had been facing away, turned around, allowing her to wipe his body. He asked, “What time is it?”

Zhou Yan opened her mouth: “Eight o’clock.”

He asked again: “What time is it?”

Zhou Yan: “Eight o’clock.”

He suddenly gripped her wrist, with such force that it pained her, and she involuntarily loosened her fingers, letting the towel fall.

“Pick it up.” He released her and stepped back two paces.

Zhou Yan squatted to pick up the towel. When she stood up again, he held her head with both hands, preventing her from fully rising.

He was burning hot: “Open your mouth.”

Zhou Yan opened her mouth. Her throat seemed used to it; there was no urge to gag.

She held it carefully, her tongue tracing the lines, occasionally looking up, her eyes captivating.

He didn’t like her to be like a dead person; he wanted her to show pleasure.

Zhou Yan knew all his habits by heart; they were deeply ingrained in her memory. She could easily act out pleasure.

His breathing gradually grew heavier, finally sighing in relief.

Zhou Yan swallowed, even meticulously wiping her chin and cheeks with her hand, then, under his gaze, finished it all.

She stood up, wrung out the towel, and hung it on the towel rack.

Every time it was over, he no longer wanted to look at her. He turned and walked out, got a can of beer from the fridge, pulled the tab, took a sip, and casually turned on the TV. An NBA game was on, already halftime.

Zhou Yan tidied the bathroom, then moved to the kitchen, putting on an apron over her naked body to make him dinner.

He loved her stir-fried shredded pork with green peppers. Although he never said it, he always ate several bowls of rice.

There were still vegetables she bought yesterday in the fridge. Knowing he was returning today, she had prepared them early, so she wouldn’t have to rush to the market if he suddenly got hungry.

The meal was ready, and the game was over.

He went back to the room and put on a pair of calf-length athletic pants and a sleeveless vest. His muscles were even more defined than when he was naked.

He sat down at the dining table, and Zhou Yan also sat down, serving him a bowl of soup.

He didn’t even lift an eyelid. He picked up his chopsticks and asked, “Zhou Yan, who am I?”

Zhou Yan: “Si Wen.”

He thought that answer was wrong: “Who am I?”

Zhou Yan put down her spoon and stood up: “Daddy.”

Si Wen then looked up at her: “Did Daddy tell you to sit at the table?”

Zhou Yan shook her head: “No.”

Si Wen: “Then why aren’t you leaving?”

Zhou Yan took off her apron, changed into her own clothes, and walked out.

When Si Wen took his medicine, he would be in a better mood and would grant her many privileges, such as changing from biting her nipple to sucking it, or hugging her to sleep, or kissing her face, or allowing her to wear his shoes, or letting her sit and eat with him.

When he was in a bad mood, her mere presence in the same space as him was her fault.

As she came out, thunder rumbled a few times, and rain followed.

She quickly called a car and rushed home. The clothes on the balcony hadn’t been taken in yet.

She rented a two-bedroom, one-living-room apartment in a small, privately-owned complex in the south for four thousand five a month. The location was good; if it weren’t so run-down, it could actually rent for six thousand.

Back home, the lights were on. She went to the balcony first. The clothes had already been taken in.

“Sister?”

Zhou Yan turned around and saw Zhou Siyuan. She frowned: “Why didn’t you go to cram school?”

Zhou Siyuan pursed his lips, changing the subject: “You came back so early.”

Zhou Yan pulled out a chair, sat down, and looked at him: “I asked you why you didn’t go to cram school.”

Zhou Siyuan lowered his head slightly, probably realizing he couldn’t avoid it, and whispered: “They said I was a bastard, with no mom and no dad.”

Zhou Yan’s simmering anger immediately cooled. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly raised her hand: “Come here.”

Zhou Siyuan glanced at her hand, not moving.

Zhou Yan said again: “Come here.”

Zhou Siyuan then walked over.

Zhou Yan hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head: “They’re talking nonsense. You have a sister, you’re not a bastard.”

Zhou Siyuan reached out and hugged Zhou Yan back. After a while, he said, “They also said I was dirty. I don’t understand; I take a bath every day.”

Zhou Yan immediately showed her distress through her expression. She composed herself for a while, then released Zhou Siyuan, patted his face, and said, “You must have played in the dirt again. Don’t you know playing in the dirt makes you wet the bed? You’re not allowed to play anymore.”

Zhou Siyuan shook his head: “I didn’t play in the dirt.”

Zhou Yan looked into his eyes, but couldn’t bear to continue. She stood up: “Hungry? What do you want to eat? Sister will make it for you.”

Zhou Siyuan didn’t want to eat anything. He turned and went back to his room: “I haven’t finished my homework yet. I’ll do my homework first.”

Zhou Yan’s fingernails dug into the cutting board.

________________________________________

Twenty years ago, there was a famous courtesan in Qizhou named Shen Yudie. Before falling into prostitution, she was a single mother with a two-year-old daughter, who was Zhou Yan. After she fell, she gave Zhou Yan away. After living an inhumane life for several years, she became Qizhou’s most expensive “chicken.”

Later, she was framed by her madam, accompanied a client to Guangzhou for two weeks, and returned with an STD. At that time, she was already four months pregnant. The doctor said aborting the child could be life-threatening, so to save her life, she gave birth.

But the child was born with gonorrhea, said to have been infected during passage through the birth canal.

Initially, she had no feelings for this child whose father was unknown, but when he was born, it was different.

Looking at that tiny life, she seemed to have found a direction for living again, and from then on, she worked even harder. But by then, news of her gonorrhea had spread like wildfire, and no one was willing to hire her anymore.

She lived a difficult life in those years, but she never thought of taking Zhou Yan back to alleviate her difficulties, until her drug addiction relapsed, and she died at her doorstep.

Zhou Yan learned about this a month after her death. Hearing she had a younger brother, she thought about taking care of him. Her adoptive parents disagreed, saying that if she returned, she would have to “spit out” all the food and drink she had consumed from them over the years.

Originally, Zhou Yan had agreed to reconsider, even though she knew her adoptive parents had no affection for her; they were infertile and getting old, so they thought of raising her for old age. But seeing the little boy lying on the hospital bed, emaciated, she still resolutely signed an IOU for one hundred thousand yuan, promising to repay it within five years, then left without looking back.

At that time, she had just been accepted into university, with tuition fees over six thousand. Her adoptive parents hadn’t intended for her to go in the first place, and after breaking away from them, she had no capital to attend.

At that time, her situation was no better than her mother’s last few years. She worked four jobs a day, her hands were calloused, and her face was covered in chilblains, yet she still couldn’t afford her brother’s medical expenses. In despair, the madam who had “managed” her mother found her and pointed her to a path.

Influenced by traditional thinking, she was unwilling to sell herself, but her body was the fastest way to earn money besides loans.

She had also applied for a loan. She still remembered when she was led to the bank by Sister Hong, the woman sitting at the window looked her up and down, and said to her in an unfriendly tone: “You’re unregistered, aren’t you? Your household registration doesn’t match your ID. We can’t process it.”

She spread out her admission letter in front of her, saying loudly, “Please look, please look, I really got in.”

But it was useless. There were always a hundred reasons to tell her it couldn’t be done.

Student loans, in their town, simply couldn’t be approved. Those who could get them were the rich or the powerful.

Finally, she naturally fell into prostitution.

In fact, she really did try hard, but no one cared how hard she tried.