Prostitutes
A Hundred Days in Bloom
Huang Hongyu learned young that survival meant becoming whatever powerful men wanted to see.
When the ruthless Cheng Hao takes her as his mistress, she turns dependence into an education in money, power, and human weakness.
As her businesses grow and her past closes in, Hongyu must decide whether love can exist inside a bargain built on violence.
Years later, the secret Cheng leaves behind reveals that the woman he could never keep had become the legend he always knew she would be.
The Madam of a Male Brothel
I run a brothel staffed by men.
But my courtesans don’t cater to men with a taste for other men.
They serve women with perfectly ordinary needs.
I named the place the Hundred Stallions House.
I don’t actually have a hundred male courtesans, of course, but I do have quite a few.
Gentle, aloof, strapping, dangerously obsessive—we have every type imaginable.
Our clients range from widowed officials’ wives to farm women who have lost their husbands, and even wandering swordswomen.
Now and then, a noble young lady sneaks out to satisfy her curiosity.
All in all, business is booming.
But there are complications.
Take that judicial officer from the Capital Prefecture, for example.
He has tried every trick in the book to shut down my Hundred Stallions House.
So when the opportunity presented itself, I drugged him.
Then I locked him in the woodshed out back.
Sisters of the Dust
When I was eleven, my stepmother pushed me into a river, and after being passed from hand to hand, I ended up in the pleasure quarter.
Five years later, on an ordinary morning, I painted my brows, opened her door with a smile, and said, “I’m back. I missed you.”
Not long afterward, my stepmother’s body was found in an old well.
Yu Chaolan Investigates: The Death of Yuanyang
A bloody, brutal murder had shaken the city.
The prostitute Yuanyang was found dead and naked on her embroidered bed, her body slashed again and again, drenched in blood.
The authorities proved utterly useless at catching the killer. They could not find so much as a single suspect.
Just as rumors were flying everywhere, a young victim came to my stall.
With the only five copper coins she had, she begged me to find Yuanyang’s murderer.
Me: “?”
But I was only a fortune-teller.
She Always Wants to Run Away
I was the most envied courtesan in all the capital.
Simply because I bore a seventy-percent resemblance to the Crown Princess, someone threw down a fortune and bought me on the very night I was first listed.
Hugging that heavy pile of silver, I sat in a small sedan chair, both thrilled and anxious.
I secretly made up my mind: even if my patron turned out to be some nasty sixty-year-old geezer, I would still gaze at him with tender affection and kiss him anyway.
As long as I could get my contract of sale and take hold of my own freedom, I could do anything!
But when I saw the prisoner in the cell, soaked with urine and raving like a madman…
I turned around and wanted to leave.
Sorry. I had still overestimated myself!
The Worst Start Survival Guide
I transmigrated.
Straight into a run-down brothel.
The lowest, dirtiest corner of Tongzhi Alley.
When I first arrived, my immediate thought was to kill the madam.
Then escape with my life.
But I soon realized the hard part wasn’t killing the madam.
The real challenge was figuring out how to stay alive after I did.
The Courtesan Saint
Chapter 0
The storm had passed.
Uncle Xiong rolled off me, sated, pillowing his head on my arm as the tip of his nose nuzzled into the hollow of my neck.
“I know every girl at Golden Sand Beach has a story, Shaluo. I want to hear yours.”
“Sure. Do you want the long version or the short one?”
“The long one.”
The long version wasn’t that long, either.
Tears of Romance in Republican China
A girl came to Drunken Fragrance Pavilion and insisted on becoming a prostitute.
She went on about the romance and glamour of Shanghai’s ten-mile foreign concession, saying this was such a romantic era.
Then let her have a good look at what romance meant in this man-eating age.
Sudden Spring
My mother, a concubine, wanted me to marry honorably: “A woman must be a proper wife.”
I made vague noises of agreement, but inwardly I didn’t take it to heart.
Being a proper wife to a peddler or servant meant poverty and beatings from the man.
Being a proper wife in a wealthy household meant constant scheming and exhausting yourself managing the family.
So as soon as my mother passed on, I went to Yujing Tower and registered as a prostitute.
Sixty taels of silver a night, absolutely no haggling.
A Wooden Hairpin
When I was thirteen, I traded myself for a bowl of chicken soup. From that moment on, I knew I was born for this life. I used it to trade for one head after another.