The Quagmire of Desire: From Gambling Addict and Village Flower to Movie Queen

Sun Xiaoyan walked in the exact opposite direction from Liu Meiling.

She didn't know where that was, she only knew she couldn't turn back.

The cold wind howled into the collar of her tattered shirt, and the skin on her chest turned blue from the cold, covered in goosebumps.

She clutched two tattered pieces of cloth tightly in her hands, head down, and walked very quickly.

The streets gradually became more crowded.

Some people were hurrying along, wearing thick down jackets and carrying briefcases; others were taking their children to school on electric bikes; and the aroma of steaming fried dough sticks and soy milk wafted from roadside breakfast stalls.

The aroma made Sun Xiaoyan's stomach rumble even louder.

She dared not look at the stalls, much less stop.

Her attire made her look like a beggar, and she stood out wherever she stood.

She just wanted to leave quickly and get to a place where no one was around.

I walked for who knows how long, and the soles of my feet hurt terribly. The blisters that broke yesterday have probably festered again.

She turned into a street that looked cleaner, with those shiny glass buildings on both sides. The buildings were so tall that her neck ached when she looked up.

Men and women in suits and overcoats were going in and out of the building, each with an expression that was hard to describe, as if they were very busy, or as if they were very... confident.

She walked close to the wall, trying not to attract attention.

As she reached an intersection, she saw a piece of paper the size of a palm pasted on a utility pole, rustling in the wind.

The paper had the following words printed in black: "Hourly workers needed for dishwashing and cleaning, daily pay."

There's also an arrow below, pointing in a direction.

Sun Xiaoyan stopped and stared at the paper for a long time.

Hourly work? Daily pay?

She had done these kinds of chores in the village, such as washing dishes and cleaning.

She touched her pocket; the little money she had brought from the farm was gone, and now she had no money at all.

Hunger, cold, and worry for Meiling felt like several hands were choking her.

"Should I give it a try?" The thought popped into her head.

If I don't give it a try, where will I sleep tonight? What will I eat tomorrow?

She gritted her teeth and walked in the direction the arrow pointed.

It was a fast food restaurant located in a small alley behind the building. The storefront was small, and the glass door was covered with a layer of grease.

The sounds of dishes being washed and the smell of cooking oil wafted from inside.

Sun Xiaoyan stood at the door for a while, took a deep breath, and then pushed the door open and went inside.

A wave of heat, mixed with the smell of food and dish soap, hit me.

"Eating?" A middle-aged woman wearing a dirty apron looked up at her from behind the cashier, her eyes sweeping over her before her brows furrowed.

"I...I saw the poster outside, it's hiring hourly workers," Sun Xiaoyan said softly.

"Oh." The woman looked her up and down. "Washing dishes? Can you do it? You need to be quick; there's a pile of dishes waiting in the kitchen."

"Yes, I can do it." Sun Xiaoyan nodded quickly.

The woman glanced at her a few more times, and perhaps because they were really short-staffed, she called out to the kitchen, "Old Wang, get someone for a trial period!"

The kitchen curtain was lifted, and a bald, chubby man poked his head out, his face full of impatience: "Hiring again? The last one ran away after only half a day!"

"Why not give it a try? It's charged by the hour anyway," the woman said.

Old Wang walked over, glanced at Sun Xiaoyan, and frowned even more deeply: "This physique... alright, come with me."

Sun Xiaoyan followed him into the kitchen.

It's hot, really hot.

Several large stoves roared with fire, and the chefs, shirtless and drenched in sweat, were cooking.

On the other side, in two large stainless steel pools, there were small mountains of dirty bowls and plates, all greasy and disgusting to look at.

"Right here," Old Wang pointed to the sink. "Scrub all of these clean, put them in the sterilizer. It's twelve yuan an hour. If you do a good job, you can continue this afternoon. If you don't, you get paid and leave."

Sun Xiaoyan looked at the mountain of bowls and swallowed hard. "Okay."

She walked to the edge of the pool.

The tap water was ice-cold.

Old Wang tossed her a bottle of dish soap and a dirty rag: "Hurry up, the lunch rush is coming soon, if we don't have enough bowls, you'll be held responsible."

Sun Xiaoyan put her hand into the cold water and shivered from the cold.

She picked up a plate covered in chili oil and vegetable leaves, squeezed some dish soap onto it, and began wiping it with a rag.

My hands are so cold, they're a bit unresponsive.

The plate was slippery, and she almost lost her grip.

"Be careful! If you fall, we'll deduct it from your wages!" Old Wang yelled from the side.

Sun Xiaoyan dared not be distracted any longer and buried herself in brushing.

One, two, three...

My hands turned bright red from the cold water, and my fingers quickly went numb.

The dish soap made my hands wrinkled, and some of the cuts stung when I soaked them in water.

It seems like the dishes will never be finished.

We just finished processing one batch here, and another bunch came in from the front.

Her back ached from bending over, and her legs went numb from standing, so she could only keep brushing, brushing, brushing.

My mind was blank, filled only with the cold water, the slippery plate, and Old Wang's occasional urging.

"Hey you, newbie, hurry up! Haven't you eaten?"

Sun Xiaoyan didn't say anything, but quickened her pace.

She really didn't eat.

Lunchtime arrived, and the lobby became lively, while the kitchen was even busier.

The sounds of stir-frying, shouting, and clattering dishes mingled together.

An employee carrying a lunchbox walked past her, the aroma of the food wafting into her nose.

Her stomach was growling like thunder.

But she dared not stop, or even look up.

Finally, around 2 PM, the number of customers decreased somewhat.

Old Wang walked over, looked at the dishes she had washed, and pursed his lips: "Alright, that's enough for this morning. You were slow, and there are still oil spots on the rims of the dishes. I'll deduct some money from your pay, but I'll count it as you worked for three hours."

He took out thirty-six yuan, three crumpled ten-yuan bills, one five-yuan bill, and one one-yuan bill.

"Here you go. Do you want to keep working this afternoon? If you do, don't stop for a second, keep brushing."

Sun Xiaoyan looked at the thirty-six yuan, wiped her hands on her apron, and then took it.

"I...I'll do it this afternoon," she said.

"Okay, go eat first, come back in half an hour. Don't go too far." Old Wang said and left.

Sun Xiaoyan clutched the thirty-six yuan tightly in her hand, and the faint warmth of the banknote seemed to transfer to her hand.

She walked out of the kitchen, exited through the back door of the fast food restaurant, and returned to the cold, windy alley.

There's a small cart selling steamed buns at the entrance of the alley.

She walked over and asked in a hoarse voice, "How much is a steamed bun?"

"One yuan and fifty cents," said the woman selling steamed buns.

Sun Xiaoyan took out the five-yuan note: "I want two."

The older woman put two large white steamed buns in a plastic bag, handed them to her, and gave her two yuan in change.

Sun Xiaoyan took the steamed bun, walked to a sheltered corner deep in the alley, and squatted down.

She tore open the plastic bag, took out a steamed bun, and wolfed it down into her mouth.

The steamed bun was cold and a bit hard, but she ate it quickly, swallowing it almost without chewing.

She felt choked and pounded her chest hard.

As I was eating, tears suddenly started falling.

Hot tears fell onto the cold, hard steamed bun, but she didn't wipe them away; she just swallowed them down along with the tears.

She thought of Meiling.

Where is Meiling now?

Has she already...already gone into that hair salon? Is she hungry too? Is she cold too?

It turns out that relying on one's own hands, one can only earn this little bit a day.

It turns out that those glittering buildings and those smartly dressed people coming and going were so far away from her.

It's so far away, like there's an invisible wall between us.

She finished both steamed buns, even consuming the crumbs that fell into the plastic bag.

My stomach feels a little fuller, but my chest feels even emptier.

She wiped her face; her hands still smelled of dish soap and had crumbs from the steamed bun.

She looked at the money she had left in her hand.

This was the first money she earned on her own in this unfamiliar city.

Rare, dirty, and tiring.

But she had to survive.

She stood up; her legs felt a little numb.

Walking back to the back door of the fast food restaurant, I pushed it open, and that familiar, mixed smell rushed out again.

Old Wang saw her and pointed to the sink: "The bowls are piled up again, hurry up."

Sun Xiaoyan didn't say anything, walked over, and put her hand into the pool of cold, oily water again.

On the other side, Liu Meiling turned into the alley with the ambiguous red light hanging there.

Hongjie's hair salon, "Rongfa," is located in the middle of the alley. The pink lightbox is missing a corner, and only half of the character "Rong" remains.

Liu Meiling pushed open the door and went in, the bell on the door jingling.

Sister Hong was reclining in her chair looking at her phone when she looked up, saw her, and smiled: "Hey, girl, figured it out?"

"Mmm." Liu Meiling nodded, her voice a little dry.

"Okay, come with me." Sister Hong got up and led her to the back of the hair salon.

There was a narrow staircase at the back, leading up to a small attic that was divided into several small rooms. The air smelled of mildew mixed with cheap perfume.

"Go take a shower first, you smell." Sister Hong pushed open a small door, which led to a simple shower room. "Take your clothes off the outside, and wear this after you shower."

Sister Hong handed over a black slip dress. The material was very thin, the neckline was very low, and the skirt was so short that it barely covered her buttocks.

Liu Meiling took the dress without saying anything.

She went into the shower and closed the door.

The water heater was old-fashioned, and the water temperature fluctuated. She quickly washed herself and rinsed her hair as well.

After taking a shower, she looked at her wet reflection in the mirror.

Her face was a little pale, and she had dark circles under her eyes, but her figure... she still had what she needed.

She picked up the sundress and put it on.

The skirt was very tight, making her chest bulge and accentuating her waist, while her legs were almost completely exposed.

The cool, slippery fabric clung to her skin, giving her goosebumps.

She looked in the mirror and tried to force a smile.

It's uglier than crying.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door to go out.

Sister Hong was waiting outside. When she saw her, her eyes lit up: "Tsk, you have a good foundation. It's just that your complexion is too bad. I'll put some powder on you later."

Sister Hong pulled her to sit in front of a mirror, took out powder and lipstick, and haphazardly applied them to her face.

"Alright, go down now. There will be a lot of guests tonight, so be careful."

Sister Hong patted her on the shoulder, "The rules are simple: if a customer likes you, you agree on a price, and then you take him to the back room. He gives me the money, I take a cut, and the rest is yours. Food and lodging are included; you'll stay upstairs and eat with me."

Liu Meiling nodded: "Understood, Sister Hong."

As darkness fell, the red lights in the alleyway lit up one by one, more conspicuous than during the day, and even more... ambiguous.

Hongjie arranged for Liu Meiling to sit on a chair near the door of the hair salon.

She mimicked the other women around her, sitting with her legs slightly apart, relaxing her body, and watching the man walk past the door.

The first man peering into the doorway was an old man in his fifties, dressed in sloppy clothes.

Sister Hong went up to him: "Boss, wanna have some fun?"

The old man's gaze swept over the women in the room, finally settling on Liu Meiling. He chuckled, "New here? What's the price?"

Sister Hong gave a number.

The old man muttered "a bit expensive," but still waved to Liu Meiling.

Liu Meiling's heart pounded. She stood up and walked over, trying to sway her hips naturally.

"Boss," she called out, her voice a little unsteady.

The old man smelled of alcohol. He leaned closer to look at Liu Meiling, then reached out and pinched her buttocks: "Okay, you're the one."

Liu Meiling stiffened for a moment, but did not dodge.

After receiving the money, Sister Hong led the old man and Liu Meiling up to the attic and pushed open the small door to a separate room.

There was only a narrow bed and a bedside table inside; there wasn't even a window.

"Hurry up," Sister Hong said, then closed the door and left.

Only Liu Meiling and the old man reeking of alcohol remained in the cubicle.

The old man pounced on her impatiently, his mouth close to her face.

Liu Meiling turned her head away and smelled a strong odor of bad breath and smoke.

She closed her eyes, but her hands instinctively wrapped around the old man's neck.

What he was thinking about was the hundred-yuan bill that Sister Hong had just taken away, and the remaining amount he had promised.

Tonight I can sleep in a bed with a roof upstairs.

That means I won't have to rummage through the garbage for stale buns tomorrow.

Yes...maybe, once she's saved enough money, she can leave this place and find a better "path".

The old man's hands were groping her body haphazardly, with great force, which hurt her.

She gritted her teeth and didn't say a word, but instead made a slight, agreeing sound.

The process was quick and brutal.

After it was over, the old man pulled up his pants and left without even glancing at her.

Liu Meiling lay paralyzed on the narrow bed, feeling sticky and uncomfortable all over.

She lay there for a while before slowly sitting up and putting on the sundress.

Sister Hong pushed the door open and handed her fifty yuan: "Here you go."

Liu Meiling took the five ten-yuan bills and held them in her hand.

The money still carried the warmth of Sister Hong's hands and was a little damp.

"Go downstairs, there might be other guests," Sister Hong said.

Liu Meiling followed Sister Hong downstairs and sat back down in the same chair.

Outside the window, the city's neon lights flickered into a blurry sea of ​​light, so bright, so far away.

She raised her head, her gaze returning to the blurry figures of the men walking past the door.

This time, her eyes held less of the initial fear and confusion, and something else entirely.

It's like searching, and it's like calculating.