Chapter 3: The Inn in the Late Hours

Shegang Village lay opposite the newly united village where Haomeng worked.

Haomeng was unfamiliar with Shegang Village. She led Jiang Fan to a modest little inn by the side of Guantai Road, its exterior neat and proper.

The inn was a three-story building constructed in the eighties. Its entrance glowed brightly, the outer walls clad in white tiles, giving a pleasing first impression. Inside, however, it was another story—each room partitioned by wooden boards into irregular cubicles with no soundproofing. Washing, bathing, and toilet use all required the communal facilities.

Rates were divided into three tiers: five, ten, and fifteen yuan per night. The five-yuan rooms held only a single bed; the ten-yuan rooms offered a double bed. The fifteen-yuan rooms were furnished with both a double bed and a dressing table.

The clever owner had also devised temporary rooms, available for an hour at half price—commonly known as hourly rooms.

The first floor served as reception, storage, and laundry for bedding. The second and third floors were for lodging, totaling twenty-two rooms.

Despite its rough conditions, this inn catered to couples and lovers with relatively high wages, functioning as a place for urgent physical needs. Of course, the beds might also host fleeting affairs or clandestine rendezvous.

Though the inn looked shabby, business was brisk—often fully booked. If local factories were on holiday, rooms had to be reserved in advance or risk missing out.

When they arrived, only a five-yuan and a ten-yuan room remained.

Haomeng took the ten-yuan room.

Entering, Jiang Fan saw the double bed in disarray, a few crumpled tissues scattered on the floor.

From both neighboring rooms came soft moans, the partition boards creaking as though the entire building might collapse.

Innocently, Jiang Fan asked, "Why is it so noisy here? How can anyone sleep? Doesn't the innkeeper tell them to quiet down?"

Haomeng shot him a glance, saying nothing. She dusted off his clothes, stained from the earlier scuffle, then lifted his shirt to check his bruised back. Seeing nothing serious but a single mark, she finally relaxed.

She cast a shy glance at Jiang Fan and replied, "The owner makes money from this. Why would they intervene? Silly, don’t ask if you don’t understand."

"Make money from this?" Jiang Fan wondered aloud.

"Stop talking. Take your clothes off, go to the bathroom for a shower, then change into something clean."

Haomeng began to tidy the bed. Lifting the blanket, she found a damp patch on the sheet. The quilt in her hand still held residual warmth, confirming a recent, vigorous encounter.

"This owner is so careless—just takes money and doesn’t bother cleaning up the battlefield," she muttered, knowing such inns were notorious for grime but still unable to resist complaining when faced with sleeping in such a bed.

From her coat pocket, she took a packet of tissues, carefully wiped the wet stains from the sheet, and kicked the used tissues under the bed, out of sight.

With that done, she sighed and turned, spotting Jiang Fan still standing there, dusty and bewildered. Teasing him gently, she asked, "What, do you need me to help you undress?"

Jiang Fan, distracted by the sounds from next door, snapped back to reality. Seeing only one bed in the room, his bashful awkwardness returned. He whispered, "There's just one bed. How will we sleep?"

Seeing Jiang Fan, who had seemed more at ease on the minibus, now revert to his wooden ways, Haomeng felt exasperated and a little annoyed. "With these conditions, I’m not scared, and I’m a woman. What are you afraid of? Do you think I’ll eat you?"

Jiang Fan scratched his head sheepishly, explaining, "I just don’t want to offend you."

Haomeng shot him another look. "I don’t mind, so what are you afraid of? After two days on the train and a night on the bus, I’m too exhausted to move. Go shower so we can rest."

Though the minor cold season had passed, the weather in Guangdong was hardly chilly—just a bit damp.

Jiang Fan’s bag contained only the patched cotton jacket he’d taken off on the train, a blue polyester shirt with three pockets, matching trousers, a set of thermal underwear, and not even a spare pair of underpants.

The underpants he wore were made by his mother from worn-out clothes and had served him for more than three years.

The polyester outfit was something Li Wine-Jar bought for himself for the New Year; Jiang Fan had left school without taking anything, so Li gave him his new clothes.

Seeing Jiang Fan’s meager belongings, Haomeng was momentarily at a loss for words. With sympathy, she asked, "Is this your only set of outerwear?"

She wanted to ask about his lack of spare underwear but hesitated and kept quiet.

Jiang Fan pointed to the thermal set he wore, plus the blue polyester outfit in his bag. "Three sets."

"Thermal underwear goes inside—it’s not outerwear."

Haomeng picked up the blue outfit from the bag and noticed a university badge sewn beside the chest pocket.

"You were a university student?"

Jiang Fan looked at the badge—once familiar and proud—now with mixed feelings, his gaze melancholy. "I was, until a few days ago. Not anymore."

Haomeng took the badge off, looking at it for a long time with envy. "Why aren’t you now?"

Jiang Fan said nothing, took the badge back, and left the room with his change of clothes.

"What’s with him? Did I say something wrong?" Haomeng wondered, hand frozen in midair.

Jiang Fan took a quick shower in the communal bathroom, using his dusty thermal shirt as a towel. Lost in thought, he returned to the room to find Haomeng already lying on the bed in her nightdress.

The translucent silk nightdress barely covered her shapely hips; the scant fabric above managed only to cup her full curves. Nearly all her fair skin was exposed except for the center, her slender, ivory legs crossed. The scene hit Jiang Fan with a powerful visual shock.

He stared at Haomeng, unsure whether he should climb into bed, helplessly lingering at the bedside.

Haomeng patted the spot next to her, her expression alluring. "Why so shy? Weren’t you so tough before? Looks like you’re still a greenhorn. Come here. If you want to become a real man, I’ll teach you."

Jiang Fan crept onto the bed, lying beside her like a block of wood. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Haomeng in her seductive nightdress. The dim light highlighted her charming face, reminding him of her soft, voluptuous body he’d touched on the minibus. Jiang Fan breathed heavily, his heart racing with excitement.

"Is this really the night I become a man?"

He’d never imagined it would happen so soon. Lying there, he tried to control his breathing, his mind blank, reason overtaken by hormones, leaving only his honest nature to keep him frozen.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his mouth dry, imagining tantalizing scenes that might unfold.

"I’m right here—you don’t need to sneak glances. If you dare, come boldly. If you let yourself suffer, I’ll be to blame, haha."