Chapter 1

Brother Cheng was from Chongqing. Some of his business was in Guangzhou, where he worked in logistics. He had swallowed up several long-distance bus routes running between provinces and opened four entertainment clubs in Tianhe.

Everyone in the underworld said he played rough. They called him “Chongqing Cheng,” and there wasn’t a soul who didn’t show him a measure of respect.

I had gone to great lengths to reel Brother Cheng in.

At the time, a Hong Kong benefactor had just cast me aside, and I needed a replacement fast.

The other women were all charming and quick-witted, lighting cigarettes and teasing the men. I wore a white dress and sat quietly in another man‘s arms, looking lost and bewildered. Every so often, I raised my eyes and silently appealed to Brother Cheng for help.

He didn’t say a word the entire time. He merely sank into the sofa, finished his song with narrowed eyes, then pushed half a glass of leftover liquor toward me and tipped up his chin.

I had already drunk far too much that night, but I forced myself to finish it sip by sip. Then I went to the restroom to make myself throw up.

Brother Cheng pulled the door open, stuffed a wad of cash against my chest, and asked if I wanted to be his.

The way Brother Cheng described me afterward, I was a little she-cat: pat me on the lower back, and I knew exactly what to do.

After we’d finished in bed, he smacked my bottom and said, “Honghong, you’re such a good girl.”

Then he burned a little crater into my lower back with his cigarette.

Once I’d cried, I really did curl up in his arms like a cat. In a soft, coaxing voice, I said, “Brother, look what you’ve done to me. I can’t be with anyone else now. All I can do is serve you, so you can’t abandon me.”

He gave a dry laugh and patted my cheek.

A man like Brother Cheng was never going to have only one woman. There was Song Fang in Wuhan, Wan Ke in Hangzhou, Ren Tian in Zhengzhou… They were delivered to him like ripe peaches.

His interest in me really lasted only half a year. While it did, he showered me with money and jewelry, took me everywhere, and practically wanted to hang me from his belt. In the heat of passion, he never used protection. If I got pregnant, he said, I’d have the baby.

Six months later, he went to Zhengzhou and got tangled up with Ren Tian. A whole month passed without a single call.

I couldn’t contain myself and phoned him. A languid woman’s voice answered:

“We just finished. He’s in the shower. Listen, little girl, he bought you an apartment in Guangzhou. You’ve already gotten plenty out of him. A man‘s silence is his answer. If you make him dismiss you himself, you’ll only embarrass yourself.”

In the empty room, I lit a cigarette and watched the slender ribbon of tobacco slowly burn down.

Brother Hu, the man who had brought me into the trade, said, “Honghong, you’re getting old. Of course your patron doesn’t want you anymore. Men get tired of women.”

The worst mistake a kept woman could make was falling in love.

“Why don’t you come back to me?”

I blew out a smoke ring and looked him up and down.

Sure enough, it infuriated him. He kicked me hard in the stomach. I went down, but when I looked back, my eyes were sharp as knives.

He lost his nerve and retreated a few steps. “So Boss Cheng’s protection really has made you bold. But no flower stays red for a hundred days. When a woman gets old and loses her looks, she’s nothing but scraps. How long do you think he can protect you? In the end, won’t you come crawling back to me?”

Brother Hu’s full name was Hu Yang. He was a cousin from my village who had brought me south from northern China under the pretense that we were coming to Guangdong for work.

I had trusted him and loved him. Then, for the sake of a deal, he dropped to his knees before me, weeping and bowing with clasped hands. “Honghong, Boss Wang has taken a liking to you. I’m begging you. Your brother is begging you. Just have a few drinks with him. Once. It’s only a few glasses. We can make three hundred thousand yuan.”

Only a few drinks. Only once.

Back then, I didn’t know something filthy had been slipped into the liquor. I didn’t know that once certain things happened a first time, there would be a second and a third. And slowly, the “we” he talked about stopped including me.

I crushed the cigarette viciously into the ashtray.