There are also several main categories of hostesses here. For example, those in the karaoke clubs mainly focus on singing, but may also go out with clients; generally, it’s selective—only if they like you and you’ve spent enough money will they agree to go out (don’t tell me you don’t know what “going out” means!). The hostesses on the first floor of the club who do hot dances are mainly dancers; they tend to be stricter, not that they won’t sell, but it depends on your offer. As for the bathhouse hostesses, they are the most direct, with the best looks and lowest prices, and their main way of making money is by using up condoms. As for what goes on in the VIP club, William Smith doesn’t really know, but in his opinion, it’s all the same in the end—hostesses, different paths to the same destination, no matter the form, it all ends up with taking off your pants and having sex. You could say that here, you can find whatever type you like to your heart’s content. Don’t tell me that among hundreds of beauties you can’t find a single one you like; if you really can’t, just tell the madam at Jin Xiu, and she’ll dress one up for you. (As for the specific work procedures of the hostesses, I can’t write about that. If you’re interested, go experience it yourself—it’s way more exciting than reading what I write.) In fact, almost everyone who’s been to Jin Xiu once becomes a repeat customer, and every madam has a big group of regulars. She knows each customer’s preferences best, and of course, can cater to their tastes.

But Jin Xiu’s greatest innovation isn’t just this—it’s that they’ve developed the hardest-to-get female clients in the industry. For example, if you see a “successful person” in the club lobby at night, dressed fashionably, hair slick and shiny, shoes gleaming—don’t assume he’s some big shot. Who is he? I bet you’ve guessed it: yes, he’s a male hostess, commonly known as a “duck.” These guys don’t have the best reputation, maybe even worse than the hostesses, but you have to admire them. Think about it: every day in the club, they dare to hit on middle-aged women, pop Viagra like candy, and sleep with women from eighteen to eighty. Whether mentally or physically, you can’t help but be impressed.

William Smith has long gotten used to, or rather become numb to, this environment. Matters between men and women should be what someone his age desires most, but William Smith is still a virgin. Don’t doubt it, dear readers—William Smith really is a virgin. There’s no need to fake it. In today’s society, being a virgin woman might be worth something, but being a twenty-something male virgin is a huge embarrassment! Even more shameful than having “lifestyle problems” in the seventies. Every time he hears the security guys talking about women with lustful eyes and spitting everywhere, William Smith feels like he’s wasted his life—he’s never even slept with a woman, let alone tried any of those “thirty-six moves and seventy-two positions” they talk about.

In William Smith’s experience, when he was a monk, he was too young—even if he wasn’t, there was no opportunity. When he was a soldier, discipline was strict; on the wild plains of the northwest, even a female rabbit was rare, let alone a woman, and as for beauties, that was just a myth. Don’t even mention the military prison—he was lucky not to end up as someone’s “wife.” When he was a hooligan, he had the time, but he was too poor—barely enough to eat, let alone think about anything else. As the saying goes, “Only when you’re warm and full do you think of sex.” If you can’t even solve the problem of food and clothing, thinking about anything else is just nonsense. As a security guard, he finally had some money and opportunities, and faced hundreds of beauties every day. Plus, William Smith himself wasn’t dumb, wasn’t ugly, and was quite famous. Finding a girlfriend in the karaoke club would be a piece of cake—maybe some would even throw themselves at him. But William Smith was scared. He never told anyone this. Every morning, when Jin Xiu took out the trash, half the load in a little three-wheeler was used condoms—tied up, filled with the “original form of humanity.” Every time he saw this, William Smith felt a chill all over. There were plenty of women and beauties in the karaoke club, and there were some who really made William Smith’s heart itch. But when he thought about the daily loads of used condoms, and how many people lined up to use the same hostess every day, and all those ads for STDs and syphilis plastered around town… William Smith would just sigh. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he just doesn’t dare! Partly it’s his ingrained traditional values, partly he’s really afraid of ending up in bed for a month for a minute of pleasure. There are plenty of guys who get infected from sleeping with hostesses—it’s easier than winning the lottery.

There’s an old saying: drug dealers don’t use drugs, brothel owners don’t visit prostitutes. That’s probably the logic here—the deeper you’re in, the more you know the dangers. William Smith may not understand all these big principles, but he can at least stick to his bottom line. Also, it’s precisely because he’s never harassed any hostess that he’s earned a good reputation in Jin Xiu. Some hostesses even guess that William Smith lives up to his name—William Smith, “impotent,” right? Hits the nail on the head. When he heard these rumors, William Smith didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But it didn’t affect his reputation at Jin Xiu. The hostesses all respected this honest-talking, steady-working, no-nonsense security guy, who even blushed at dirty jokes. Especially after William Smith firmly fought against ugly behaviors like refusing to pay tips, harassing hostesses, or denying responsibility after sex, he won the approval of the vast majority of hostesses at Jin Xiu.

……