2: Women who work in nightclubs

Li Zhan stood in the middle of the empty living room, looking around this so-called "home."

How the hell was this a place where a girl lived?

The two-bedroom apartment was packed to the brim.

Colorful clothes were piled on the faded fabric sofa, with a few sequined camisole dresses slipping onto the floor.

Various cosmetics were scattered across the glass coffee table—

Uncapped lipsticks, dried-up mascara, and used cotton pads stained with foundation.

A mountain of takeout boxes sat on the low table; the top box of fried noodles was already moldy, with several ants crawling along the edge of the plastic container.

He tiptoed around a pile of high heels on the floor, their heels so thin they looked like they could stab someone to death.

In the kitchen, a thin layer of dust had settled on the stove, and the gas cylinder in the corner was already covered in grease.

The bathroom door was half-open; unlike the mess in the hall and kitchen, the inside was unexpectedly tidy—

The tiles were polished to a shine, mouthwash cups and facial cleansers were neatly arranged on the corner shelf, and even the toilet seat had a clean blue cloth cover.

He returned to the hall.

A sticky note was pressed under the keys on the coffee table, with "Room 302" written on it.

The moment he opened his bedroom door, a musty smell wafted toward him.

In the room of about ten square meters, there was only a single iron-frame bed leaning against the wall.

A small stain remained on the mattress.

A rolled-up straw mat lay in the corner, covered in dust, likely left behind by the previous tenant.

Li Zhan nudged the straw mat with his toe, and several cockroaches quickly scurried into the cracks in the wall.

Outside the window was the wall of another building, so close that he could clearly see the cracks in the opposite tiles.

Evening was falling over Wusha Village, and the off-duty bell from a distant factory pierced the twilight.

Li Zhan sighed; what else could he do?

He decided to make the best of it and rolled up his sleeves to start cleaning.

He first gulped down several mouthfuls of tap water from the bathroom faucet, slightly easing the pain in his abdomen.

Then he found a plastic bucket and a few rags.

He first carefully gathered the cosmetics on the coffee table into a cardboard box, put the moldy takeout boxes in a plastic bag and piled them by the door, and hung the sequined clothes one by one on the drying rack on the balcony.

He even wiped the coffee table three times before its original glass surface was revealed.

He took the straw mat from the bedroom to the communal balcony, beat it vigorously, then scrubbed it hard in the bathroom several times before hanging it out on the balcony to dry.

He flipped the mattress over, revealing a relatively clean back side.

He covered the moldy spots in the corner with old newspapers, making them look at least a bit less eyesore.

Just as he was leaning over to wipe the last stain off the living room floor, the door behind him opened with a "creak."

The girl had changed into a tight black dress with a hemline so short it barely covered the tops of her thighs.

She wore ten-centimeter stilettos, her slender legs faintly visible under fishnet stockings.

The V-neck cut made her full bust look like it was about to spill out.

The girl's gaze swept over the rejuvenated living room, lingering for two seconds on the neatly folded clothes.

Then she looked at Li Zhan, who was kneeling on the floor with the back of his T-shirt soaked in sweat, still clutching a dirty rag in his hand.

She pursed her lips, which were coated in bright red lipstick, said nothing, and turned toward the door.

The security door opened and closed, and the sound of receding footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Li Zhan straightened his back and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

His stomach suddenly let out a loud growl, and he realized he hadn't eaten all day.

He went to the bathroom and took a quick shower.

Having no change of clothes, he had to put back on the stiff T-shirt and jeans.

The fabric clung to the undried moisture, sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

He grabbed his keys, stuffed them into his pocket, and headed out as well.

The night market in Wusha Village had just begun, and the smell of grease from roadside stalls mixed with the scent of cheap perfume wafted toward him.

Li Zhan stood at the mouth of the alley, watching the crowds moving under the neon lights, and felt the last two hundred yuan in his pocket.

"Fried noodles! Three yuan a portion!"

A vendor nearby shouted at the top of his lungs, the sound of the iron spatula scraping the bottom of the wok particularly harsh.

Li Zhan swallowed hard and walked toward the brightly lit food stall.

The fried noodles here were completely different from those in his hometown in Guangxi.

The finished product was a sticky mixture of noodles and egg liquid.

He really couldn't care less; as soon as the fried noodles arrived, he began to wolf them down.

After a bowl of fried noodles, most of his abdominal pain disappeared.

Li Zhan then leisurely strolled into the busiest night market street in Wusha Village.

Both sides of the narrow passage were crowded with tin shacks, and the stall owners shouted in Mandarin with various accents.

Underwear and socks hung on wires like colorful flags.

T-shirts priced at ten yuan for three were piled like small mountains, and plastic slippers were scattered here and there in cardboard boxes.

"Handsome guy, want to buy some towels? Pure cotton, two for five yuan!" A woman grabbed his arm.

Li Zhan was thin-skinned and couldn't resist the woman's enthusiasm, so he crouched down in front of the stall to pick some out.

He bought two towels with cartoon patterns, three pairs of underwear for ten yuan, and a pair of athletic pants for fifteen yuan.

In the end, he spent less than 100 yuan to get all his basic daily necessities.

Back at the rental, Li Zhan threw his dirty clothes and the newly bought ones into a plastic bucket, gave them a few rough scrubs, wrung them out, and hung them on the balcony.

He put on a pair of the newly bought athletic shorts and walked into the bedroom shirtless, collapsing onto the straw mat.

Before long, snoring sounds began to ring out.

He was truly too exhausted today.

—

He didn't know how long he had slept before he was startled awake by a frantic knocking at the door.

He climbed up groggily, and as soon as he opened the door, he saw the girl from the next room stumbling in, reeking of alcohol.

Behind her, a man with a flushed face was grabbing her bag strap, muttering something incoherently.

The man looked up, saw the shirtless Li Zhan, froze for a moment, and then shouted fiercely,

"Mind your own fucking business..."

Li Zhan grabbed the man's reaching wrist and pulled the girl into the room.

He gave the wrist a sudden twist, and the man immediately doubled over in pain.

"Get lost."

Li Zhan kicked the man in the stomach, sending him falling back into the hallway.

The security door slammed shut, and the sound of cursing footsteps echoed in the hallway.

A moment later, the iron door was kicked again with a loud clang, making the whole wall vibrate.

Li Zhan frowned and looked at the girl crouching on the floor. "Who is that?"

The girl just crouched on the floor and shook her head, her chest heaving violently.

Li Zhan didn't care about anything else; he suddenly pulled the door open just as the drunkard was about to kick it again.

He lunged out and delivered another kick to the man's stomach.

While the man was doubled over retching, he grabbed him by the collar, dragged him down three flights of stairs, and threw him beside a trash heap on the roadside.

"Come up again, and I'll cripple you." Li Zhan shook his numbed wrist.

Back in the room, the girl was still curled up in the same spot.

He poured a glass of cold water and handed it to her.

The moment the girl took the glass, she suddenly burst into loud wailing, tears mixing with mascara to form two black streaks down her face.

Li Zhan froze in place; he raised his hand, wanting to pat her head to comfort her, but felt it wasn't quite appropriate, so he could only lower his hand and stand there awkwardly.

The girl's crying gradually weakened into intermittent sobs.

"I'm going back to my room to sleep."

Li Zhan scratched his head. "Call me if you need any help."

He turned to leave, but heard the girl speak with a nasal voice,

"Wait..." Her voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible.

Li Zhan stopped and turned back to see the girl staring at his bare upper body.

"You... you're quite good at fighting."

Before Li Zhan could react, she had already stood up unsteadily and ducked into her room, clutching the glass of water.

Li Zhan opened his mouth toward the closed door but ultimately just sighed and returned to his own hard straw mat.

After being woken up, Li Zhan found himself unable to fall back asleep, tossing and turning on the straw mat.

There was no electric fan in the room, making it as sweltering as a steamer.

The sweat from the earlier scuffle clung to his back like a layer of paste, making him incredibly uncomfortable.

As soon as he closed his eyes, the girl's graceful figure wrapped in the black camisole dress became stuck in his mind.

He turned over irritably, the straw mat making a harsh scraping sound.

He had a vague idea of what the girl's profession was.

But so what? In this world, people have always laughed at the poor rather than the prostitutes.

She wasn't stealing or robbing; she was earning her living through her own means. What was there to criticize?

Unable to lie still any longer, he got up and felt his way to the bathroom in the dark.

He turned the faucet all the way; the icy water flowed over his hot skin, and his restless heart finally began to calm down.

When he finished his shower and came out, he heard faint sobbing from the room next door.

Li Zhan stood in the darkness for a while, but in the end, he just gently closed the bathroom door.