FY - 6

On Monday, all employees of Candy, including service and cleaning staff, as well as the ‘chickens’ and ‘ducks,’ gathered for a large meeting.

Sister Hong, who held power second only to the boss, sat on the podium.

She went through the motions, saying a lot of nonsense, and then publicly criticized Zhou Yan: “You need to know what you are. Giving our VIP customers attitude? If you weren’t one of Candy’s people, I wouldn’t care if you messed up, but don’t forget, you insisted on staying.”

Zhou Yan hadn’t forgotten. At that time, Si Wen gave her money every month, practically supporting her, but he had a bad temper and was eccentric. She worried that if she ever offended him and was forced to leave, it would be difficult to come back.

So she stayed at Candy.

Some people asked, “You earn a lot every month, how much can you really spend? Wouldn’t it be better to save enough money, leave this line of work, and start a small business?”

A customer had asked this before. Zhou Yan only remembered one phrase at the time: Men are most enthusiastic about forcing good women into prostitution and persuading prostitutes to be good.

It really wasn’t wrong at all.

Zhou Yan entered this line of work because it was too difficult. Also, her social circle, inherited from her mother, was full of low-lives. She wanted to work for a foreign company, but how could she? With her network of johns and gamblers?

That was too unrealistic.

And to be honest, sometimes it’s not people making choices; it’s choices teaching people how to live.

Now, looking back, it seems there were more options, but that’s just being wise after the event. If she had had that mindset back then, the game wouldn’t have played out this way. It was because of her ignorance that everything that followed happened.

When she crossed the hurdle of ignorance, she opened her mind and willingly continued in this line of work.

There was no particular reason; it was quick money, didn’t require much thought, and most of the time, communication happened with clothes off, which was far more honest than when they were on. And after so many years in fringe work, she had long forgotten how to interact with people in other professions.

People are naturally prone to compromise; those who haven’t compromised yet just haven’t been offered a sufficiently enticing deal.

Zhou Yan loved the feeling of having 100,000 yuan appear on her phone, and she loved watching countless seemingly upright men reveal their ugliness in front of her. Every time she saw them like that, she felt like the world should just end sooner rather than later.

Thinking about all this made her feel so good.

On the other hand, even if she gave up, no one would say “good job.” This thing, it’s like drugs: once you touch it, you’re an addict for life. Similarly, if you sell yourself, you’re a prostitute for life.

Even if she moved to another city, another country, and no one around her knew she had sold herself, she herself would never forget.

Given all this, was there any point in her trying to reform as if nothing had happened?

No, it was all nonsense. Just self-deception.

Sister Hong continued her long-winded, boring speech, like an old woman’s bound feet.

She had a lot of opinions about Zhou Yan, not because she had found a sugar daddy but didn’t leave—she knew how terrifying Si Wen was, and it was understandable for Zhou Yan to want a backup plan. It was just that Zhou Yan always acted aloof, which was annoying.

They were all common folk, but she was a common folk with culture, opinions, and goals, so naturally, she wasn’t welcomed.

It was like a chicken coop with a goose in it; it was obvious that the goose would be targeted.

Fortunately, Zhou Yan didn’t care. She didn’t have that much time to scheme with them and play out a “Empresses in the Palace” drama. When they gossiped about her openly and secretly, she would just smoke a cigarette, listen quietly, and watch indifferently.

If she weren’t a prostitute, in terms of temperament, she would definitely be a poet.

________________________________________

The meeting ended.

Zhou Yan, who sat the furthest away, was the first to leave. The manager happened to be returning from outside and bumped into her.

Her looks were alluring but not vulgar, the kind that most captivated men’s lewd thoughts. The manager had been at Candy since it opened. Over the years, many women had come and gone, and he had slept with quite a few, but none had made him long for them like Zhou Yan.

Several managers at Candy had client resources; any girl who wanted to get close to a boss needed their subtle operation. So, these glamorous women would readily agree to their demands. They were like the chickens kept in their backyard, to be used whenever they wished.

But there were also those they couldn’t control—those with backers.

For example, Zhou Yan, with Si Wen behind her, was more oppressive than the Five Fingers Mountain itself.

He met Zhou Yan’s gaze, nodded as a greeting, and continued walking, brushing past her.

Last time, he had been drunk and reckless. This time, sober, he wouldn’t dare provoke her.

In fact, Sister Hong was the same. She dared to curse Zhou Yan and embarrass her publicly, but she didn’t dare introduce clients to her, nor would she ever allow a client to request her. They didn’t have an easy life either and wouldn’t want to offend Si Wen.

Speaking of which, ever since Zhou Yan started seeing Si Wen, she hadn’t gone out on dates; she had only been ‘sitting’.

However, not many people knew about this.

________________________________________

She left Candy and went to the billiards hall across the street, putting down twenty yuan, lighting a cigarette, and turning to look at the pool tables behind her. She pointed to the second one from the left: “That one.”

The hall attendant turned on the light for her and handed her a cup of Earl Grey tea: “On the house.”

Zhou Yan took it and took a sip: “Thanks.”

The hall attendant clicked his tongue: “When did you become so polite?”

Zhou Yan smiled but said nothing, walking towards the pool table.

She put down the tea, picked up a cue stick, removed the triangle rack, and broke the balls with one shot.

The hall attendant leaned his elbows on the counter, watching her play, and suddenly couldn’t control his mouth: “About Jiang Xiaozhao’s matter, how did you resolve it internally? I heard her parents didn’t even show up?”

Zhou Yan was focused on playing and answered perfunctorily: “I don’t know, I haven’t heard.”

The hall attendant sighed: “Xiaozhao was just too beautiful, a beauty destined for a tragic fate. If He Shan Hong hadn’t liked her so much, she wouldn’t have...”

Zhou Yan stopped, turned to look at him, her brows furrowed.

The hall attendant belatedly shut his mouth.

But it was too late. Wei Lian, who had just come up the stairs, happened to hear that last sentence.

He walked calmly to the counter and said, “Open a table.”

The hall attendant saw Wei Lian, captain of Criminal Investigation Team One, and almost lost his soul: “Okay, okay, which one do you want?”

Wei Lian turned his head and his eyes stopped on Zhou Yan: “That one.”

The hall attendant apologized: “That one is taken.”

Wei Lian: “Then let’s share it.”

As he spoke, he had already walked towards Zhou Yan, picked up a cue stick, and asked her, “Can we play together?”

Zhou Yan had paid: “I’m afraid not.”

Wei Lian pulled out a hundred-yuan bill and placed it on the table: “Can you?”

Zhou Yan was too familiar with this scene. She had been thrown money by men countless times. She couldn’t say she liked this behavior, but she didn’t dislike it either. Who disliked money? She took it: “Yes.”

________________________________________

They played two games, and Wei Lian was outplayed by Zhou Yan in both.

Zhou Yan was really amazing at billiards. Even Si Wen, a person who excelled at all kinds of entertainment, couldn’t beat her.

Wei Lian stopped playing, took out his wallet, and put it on the table: “How about this, let’s play a different game.”

Zhou Yan finished her half-cup of Earl Grey tea and grabbed her jacket: “Please find someone else.”

Wei Lian called out to her: “A hundred for one question.”

Zhou Yan stopped, smiled, and said without turning her head: “A hundred? Officer, you’re a bit too stingy.”

Wei Lian took out all the cash from his wallet and slapped it on the table: “Two thousand, one question.”

Zhou Yan turned around: “Alright.”

Wei Lian didn’t expect her to be so straightforward, but he didn’t back down. He asked her, “Was Jiang Xiaozhao’s death really a suicide?”

Zhou Yan thought he would ask some profound question. She walked over and took the two thousand yuan: “Of course, it was suicide.”

This was true, but no one believed it.

They all liked to invent a tragic story for a man who died young or a woman with a tragic fate, preferably connected to morality, so that the tragedy would become highly dramatic and meet their basic conditions for lament.

The most beautiful prostitute in Qizhou died. If it was suicide, what was there to talk about?

She had to have been murdered, perhaps by a colleague, or perhaps by her lover. The method of death also had to be cruel—disfigurement, gang rape, dismemberment. The process had to be convoluted, meticulous, and showcase social disparities and inequality of life.

That way, everyone could feel a sigh of regret for her life.

Zhou Yan had left for a long time before Wei Lian came back to his senses, looking at the empty wallet in front of him, only twitching the corner of his lips.

He also didn’t understand the purpose of his actions just now.

Sanzi had been looking for Wei Lian for a long time and finally found him in the billiards hall: “Captain Wei, why are you disappearing in broad daylight?”

Wei Lian walked out: “My hands were itching, wanted to play some pool.”

Sanzi took a couple of steps towards him, caught up, and pulled him downstairs: “We were waiting for you! It’s rare for our team to have a dinner together, how can you, as the leader, be absent! We’re counting on you to pay the bill! Otherwise, why do you think we chose the most prosperous street in Qizhou?”

Speaking of paying the bill, Wei Lian felt a bit helpless. The money he withdrew from the ATM for the dinner this morning had all been given to that woman.

Never mind.