Chapter 11: The Generous Patron

Wang Fang was Hao Meng’s distant cousin and also her mentor in the trade; she had worked as a madam for over three years. Because of the nature of their work, madams could answer and make calls from hotel phones, but Hao Meng, determined to keep her profession secret from Jiang Fan, deliberately left the number of a convenience store she frequented instead.

She could recall the convenience store’s number because, during work, she often had to buy things like betel nuts—which the hotel didn’t sell—for their clients. She would call the store to have things delivered, to the point that the store owner treated these madams like goddesses of fortune.

With her family back home, Hao Meng kept in touch by letter; with clients, she used the hotel phone. Of all her contacts, she only gave Jiang Fan the convenience store’s number. So when she heard a woman had called the store asking for her, Hao Meng was curious—who could it possibly be?

Despite her suspicions, she went to the store and took the call from Zhu Maoju. She learned that Jiang Fan had not found his senior, had little money left, had used his last fifty yuan to help someone else, and had even gotten into a scuffle with the deputy captain of the security squad—after which, his whereabouts were unknown.

Hao Meng admired Jiang Fan all the more for his way of handling things, but she began to worry for his safety as well. After the call, she returned to the private room, too distracted to entertain Chen Anlong—her mind was entirely occupied with wondering where the desperate Jiang Fan might have gone.

Not wanting to waste a good opportunity, she nudged Wang Fang toward Chen Anlong. Chen Anlong, believing Hao Meng was having her period, played along and let his hands wander over Wang Fang, though his mind was still on winning over Jiang Fan. Noticing Hao Meng’s distraction, he put on a show of concern, asking, “You look lost since you took that call—something wrong? Do you need my help?”

Seeing Hao Meng willingly hand over this wealthy patron, Wang Fang took the initiative and sat on Chen Anlong’s lap. Hao Meng knew she was in no state to work; to avoid revealing her feelings, she told Chen Anlong, “A friend from home ran into some trouble in Chang’an, and I’d like to check on them. I won’t be able to drink with you tonight, I hope you’re not upset.”

Though Wang Fang was eager, Chen Anlong’s main reason for coming that night had been Hao Meng. With Wang Fang on his lap, he still couldn’t resist squeezing Hao Meng’s chest and groping her again, as if to confirm whether she was really menstruating. Feeling the pad through her underwear, he was satisfied, handed her five hundred yuan, and said, “If you have something to take care of, go ahead. If you need help, call me. And don’t forget to ask around about that young man for me.”

With five hundred yuan from Chen Anlong, Hao Meng went to Deputy Manager Zhang and, using the excuse of feeling unwell from her period, asked for leave. It was the first time in over a year working at the hotel that she generously offered two hundred yuan for time off, giving herself a break for the sake of her mood.

Even when offering money for leave, madams still needed approval from the deputy manager. Zhang had seen the pad in her underwear as she changed, and, not having heard Chen Anlong was present, approved her request without fuss.

Leaving the hotel, Hao Meng didn’t return to the dormitory but decided to walk and clear her mind, her thoughts circling around where Jiang Fan might have gone.

Lost in thought, she found herself near the small inn where she and Jiang Fan had once spent a night together—though nothing had happened. As she approached, she saw a figure, back turned, gazing at the inn in a daze. The silhouette was so familiar that Hao Meng couldn’t believe her eyes—she wiped them, and when she was sure it was Jiang Fan, tears welled up. She wanted to run to him, to embrace the man she’d thought of day and night these past days, but suddenly remembered the traces Chen Anlong’s hands had left on her body. To throw herself into Jiang Fan’s arms now felt like a stain on their reunion.

Struggling with herself, she restrained her feelings, composed her expression, and walked calmly to Jiang Fan. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I couldn’t find my senior and got into some trouble. I just escaped from Chang’an and happened to pass by Humen, so I thought I’d visit the place where we parted,” Jiang Fan replied.

Seeing Jiang Fan staring at the inn, Hao Meng knew he felt the same nostalgia she did—which was her greatest comfort. From Zhu Maoju’s call, she already knew what had happened, but she feigned ignorance, asking, “What trouble did you get into?”

She had a purpose in this: she wanted to see how Jiang Fan would recount his “great feat” of fighting a security officer. After all, men liked to boast of their bravery to women. In the early 1990s, picking a fight with the security squad was not something just anyone dared, which explained why the security teams in every village were so arrogant with migrant workers.

“A local scoundrel thought I was seducing the woman he liked and brought three thugs to give me a hard time. I dealt with them,” Jiang Fan said, recounting what had happened in detail.

His story was clearer than Zhu Maoju’s phone account, but he didn’t brag about it.

Hao Meng watched Jiang Fan’s expression turn almost ferocious as he spoke of the security officers. When he mentioned Jin Lan, whom he had helped, he passed over it lightly; when he spoke of Zhu Maoju, who had helped him, his heartfelt gratitude shone through.

Hao Meng thought, “Oh, little man, if only you weren’t so righteous, if only your body and soul weren’t so clean—how wonderful that would be!”

In truth, Hao Meng was a year younger than Jiang Fan, but her wealth of social experience and matured mind led her to see Jiang Fan as just a boy.

Now, hopelessly in love, she thought of her own profession and felt unworthy of him. She didn’t want Jiang Fan to know what she did for a living, but she wanted to help him. After a moment’s thought, she said, “I have a cousin who rents a place in Baisha First Village. You can stay there for a couple of days, get to know the area. Later, I’ll help you get a temporary residence permit and rent a place on your own. It’s not easy for a young man to find work—no need to rush.”

With only three hundred yuan left after paying the leave fee, and knowing a one-year residence permit cost nearly three hundred, Hao Meng planned to earn money for two more days to help Jiang Fan get settled.

Jiang Fan, knowing he already owed her fifty and having learned the cost of a residence permit and rent from the security team at Shangsha, quickly waved her off. “One night’s stay is enough. I heard that construction sites only need strong workers, nothing else required. I’ll try my luck there tomorrow.”

Hearing this, Hao Meng’s heart ached and she couldn’t help but scold him, “I don’t know why you left school, but just getting into that university proves you’re exceptional. I truly believe you’ll make something of yourself. For now, listen to me—take your time looking for work. If all else fails, I’ll introduce you somewhere.”

The mention of work reminded her of Chen Anlong’s interest in Jiang Fan. Having honed her skills at reading people in the workplace, she knew from Chen Anlong’s mention of seeing Jiang Fan fight exactly what he had in mind.

She’d deflected Chen Anlong earlier not just because she was uncertain about seeing Jiang Fan again, but mainly because she’d seen how Chen Anlong treated his driver and bodyguard—so overbearing and condescending.

Hao Meng didn’t want Jiang Fan to be forced, for the sake of survival, to bow and scrape for a meager living like Chen Anlong’s driver. She, already living without dignity in the pleasure world, wished for the man she loved to live with pride.