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墨書 Inktalez
A night of wind and rain.
It was beautiful enough to steal one's soul. In the mirror, Sister Qiu's delicate, fair face appeared on my shoulder, as if comparing whether the two of us were a match made in heaven. Without makeup, Sister Qiu wasn't as charming; her eyes were slightly sunken, her cheekbones a bit high. Yet, she remained beautiful, though her beauty carried a kind of heart-wrenching fatigue.
Indeed, she looked exhausted—after all, it had been a sleepless night!
Sister Qiu hooked her arm around me and asked, "Are you really a university student?"
"I have a Bachelor's in Psychology from Jiangcheng University," I replied, feeling a twinge of discomfort afterward: What was so impressive about that when I was just muddling through life here?
Looking at Sister Qiu again, there was no pretense in her farewell like before.
I didn’t know what love at first sight was, nor had I ever made any grand promises, yet it felt as if Sister Qiu had moved into my heart. Amidst the neon lights and intoxicating atmosphere, I had long lost track of time in this world. I would sleep until noon every day; after lunch, business would gradually pick up, keeping me busy until late at night.
At first, it was hard to adapt. Being a foreman wasn’t easy; I had never even held a class officer position before. Suddenly leading so many receptionists, princesses, young masters, and a group of ladies hidden in the shadows under the guidance of the brothel owner made it challenging to maintain balance among them.
After all, times had changed; being a foreman wasn’t as simple as it used to be. At the very least, reading people's expressions was no easy task. The difficulty lay in not being able to discern a guest's sexual orientation or preferences at first glance. For instance, an old man with a face full of wrinkles might prefer innocent young girls; meanwhile, a youthful-looking guy might be drawn to mature women with more allure. There were even worse cases—someone who looked like a successful businessman might not be interested in younger women at all but rather prefer older ladies.
Most guests were those who stumbled in drunk and disoriented; they weren’t looking for companionship but rather for excitement. No matter how many girls the foreman sent in, they would end up stumbling out after being groped and moaning obscenities. Even in such frustrating situations, the foreman could only nod and bow while waiting to calm down the drunks so they could empty their wallets.
Seeing through it wasn’t so difficult; it was just about throwing money around to buy back some hollow emotional comfort to fill their emptiness. Whether that emptiness was filled or not was beyond my knowledge, but it surely fattened the nightclub’s coffers. Every day brought in foolish drunks, pretentious show-offs, and those who feared being looked down upon—all of whom earned the nightclub ladies' praise for one thing: they paid quickly and generously.
The foreman's job was to make guests feel even more satisfied. While others found it challenging, I gradually realized that what I learned in psychology at school turned out to be quite useful. At least I could see where these guests’ gazes—whether hollow, lewd, or dazed—were directed when they came here. Were they looking for a quick thrill or wanting to get completely drunk? Or perhaps seeking a fleeting romance? By grasping these key points, within days I became the most highly rated foreman in Heavenly Abode's history.
Yet still just a pimp—a big tea pot.
Here I was, a serious Bachelor of Psychology turned into a big tea pot!
Isn’t that laughable?
Isn’t that lamentable?
Isn’t that tragic?
I helped out at the front desk. A group of beauties teased me; one said, "Hu the Manager, you keep staring at my chest and legs! After work come over to my place; I'll let you see plenty!"
Another chimed in, "Hu the Manager, doesn’t my collar seem a bit high?" She tugged at her clothes vigorously.
I scared him off in a panic, not because he feared them, but because he was afraid of being seen by Sister Qiu.
As I went downstairs, I happened to run into Sister Qiu, who was accompanying a guest. She glanced at me but pretended not to recognize me, wrapping her arm around an old man who struggled to speak Mandarin, his face leaning too close to hers.
Sister Qiu held one of the old man's arms tightly against her. I could clearly see one of his hands wandering freely over Sister Qiu's backside. I froze as if struck by lightning, my blood boiling; I could almost hear the sound of my fists clenching tightly. Sister Qiu must have sensed it because she turned her head to glance at me.
What was in her eyes? Indifference, disregard, and contempt all mixed together! The beauty of that night shattered in my heart in an instant.
Two bodyguards, one fat and one thin, glared at me like wolves. For three consecutive days, Sister Qiu did not appear at the club. Her companion, Heidi, said that Sister Qiu had hooked a big one this time; that old man was from Harbor City and was loaded, taking her out for a good time...
I felt utterly deflated. The girls teased me for my indifference, while the waitstaff dared me directly.
After work in the early morning, I wandered back to my rented room like a soulless being. I howled at the dim streetlights in solitude: Why do you betray me and not him...
I found a night market and ordered grilled oysters and meat skewers... drinking heavily and eating heartily. The liquor was the strongest Erguotou available, but alas, I could no longer taste the deliciousness of that day when I tried to impress others.
In just a few days, those who knew me remarked that my eyes had grown sunken. I hardly slept through the nights; every time I closed my eyes, it was Sister Qiu's graceful figure pinned beneath an old man...
I wanted to rush over, but every part of me felt paralyzed; I wanted to scream, yet my mouth opened without a sound.
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