“Not too expensive, it’s still a far cry from designer brands,” Grace said, pulling out a stack of RMB from her bag, counting it, and handing it to the clerk. She added, “What do you know? A girl only has a few years to be pretty—after that, even if you want to dress up, no one will look!”

“William Smith, which outfit do you think gets me the most attention?” As Grace left arm-in-arm with William Smith, she noticed some envious glances from men around and asked with satisfaction.

“Tch, that’s easy!” William Smith, carrying bags big and small, looked displeased and replied offhandedly.

“Then tell me!” Grace asked excitedly.

“Take it all off—go streaking! I guarantee a 100% head-turn rate,” William Smith grinned mischievously, seeing she’d fallen for his bait.

“Hey! …William Smith, you jerk!” Grace pinched William Smith’s arm hard in anger—her usual weapon, always effective.

“Ow! Stop pinching me, if you do it again I’ll shout… Molestation! I’ll really shout!” William Smith felt the pain and quickly dodged Grace’s second attack.

“Stand still, how dare you dodge…” The two teased each other as they left Yindu, Grace’s bell-like laughter and William Smith’s cries for mercy echoing along the way.

Chapter 05: A Riot of Flowers Dazzles the Eye

When it came to this beauty Grace, William Smith kept a respectful distance. Although the two were often entangled, William Smith knew he was just a joke for this Shanghai beauty when she was bored or lonely. Even though she jokingly called him “husband,” William Smith never dared to have any improper thoughts. As William Smith put it, who the hell would dare? His monthly salary wasn’t even enough to buy her a pair of underwear—how could he have the nerve to talk about dating her? Besides, someone like Grace didn’t seem like the type to settle down and run a household.

Grace kept dragging William Smith along as she shopped, got her hair done, and had dinner. It was almost seven by the time they finished. After William Smith’s repeated urging, they finally took a cab to the karaoke club. For the hostesses, working hours were flexible, but for security guards, the schedule was strict. By the time they arrived, night was falling, and a new day was beginning under the flashing neon lights of the club. William Smith escorted Grace inside, changed into his security uniform, and headed to the parking lot—his post.

Strictly speaking, Jinxiu Karaoke was no longer the same club as a year ago. A year earlier, the up-and-coming female boss Helen Scott had bought not only the club but also several plots of land around it. Now, a Hanfu Foot Massage parlor, a Tianshenghua Bath Center, a high-end club, and a parking lot of nearly ten acres had all sprung up. Together with the original karaoke club, the whole complex had merged into the largest entertainment center in Fengcheng.

Of course, just from the word itself, “entertainment” in Chinese can’t be written without the character for “woman,” and real life is the same—there’s no entertainment without women. Here, what made the place famous wasn’t its size or luxurious decor, but the fact that its hostesses were the best in the region. For one, there were a lot of them: between the karaoke club and the bath center, there were four or five hundred regular hostesses, not counting the occasional freelancers. For another, the quality was high: Sichuan girls, Mizhi women, Northeast girls, Hunan beauties, Datong ladies—even fake Russian beauties from Xinjiang weren’t uncommon here.

What was even more impressive was the management. As the saying goes, “Northeast bandits, Xinjiang thieves, Henan drifters, Shanghai madams”—and it’s true. The “madam” here refers to the brothel keeper, and Shanghai people are meticulous—perfect for the job. William Smith heard from a few madams that to work at Jinxiu, you had to go through management training, which taught them how to size up clients and how to dress up their girls. The ultimate goal, of course, was to get customers to spend willingly. For example, in Jinxiu, madams would categorize their girls: there were the pure and pretty types for young men in their twenties, who cared only about looks; the sweet and docile types for those with expense accounts or mid-level bosses, who liked the sense of accomplishment; and the understanding types for middle-aged and older clients, who didn’t care about looks but needed understanding and care. This last type was the hardest—usually seasoned veterans who had learned to read people and had graduated from hostess to “big sister.” It was said that in the Jinxiu VIP club, there were even some who were both beautiful and talented but didn’t sell sex—great candidates for secretaries, fluent in foreign languages, and specialized in hooking up with high-level clients. But William Smith thought, a hostess is a hostess—whether they sell or not is beside the point. It’s all just a show, like celebrities putting on an act. As long as the money’s right, they can take off their clothes as fast as Liu Xiang clears a hurdle.

Under this environment, the madams got creative, coming up with new styles—like the uniform temptation, schoolgirl outfits, ethnic costumes, all designed to attract clients with special tastes. The variety was endless. Compared to the old days of secret trysts in KTV rooms or prostitution in hair salons, this was a true management revolution in the sex industry—a watershed moment.