Chapter Text
The cigarette is crushed out in the ashtray, and with it, the session comes to an end.
Shen Jiu has always told himself he must live as long as possible, yet tobacco has been his greatest ally for many years. The smoke can fill an entire room, its scent overpowering anything else. It becomes suffocating, but it is something he has learned to endure.
Both of them straighten their clothes and say their goodbyes at the door while Shen Jiu finishes counting the money, which he quickly hides when he sees his brother approaching as the man walks away.
“Gege, who was that?” Shen Yuan asks, his school uniform disheveled from climbing so many stairs,Shen Jiu took it upon himself to straighten it out the moment he is close enough.
“He’s a friend from work. He owed me some money, so he came to pay me back.”
“Oh, I see,” the younger replies with a smile. “Gege, I got a perfect score on my calculus exam today.” Shen Yuan boasts with a grin, desperately trying to pull a sheet of paper sticking out of his worn backpack. When he finally gets it, he presses it right up to his older brother’s face.
“Congratulations.” Shen Jiu praises him with a gentle pat on the head. It was funny how he could start to feel again whenever Shen Yuan came back to the apartment; it was hard not to smile in his presence.
“Ah! I almost forgot—when I was coming up, Lan Jie-jie asked me to tell you to come downstairs. She looked really happy.”
“Hmm, she probably wants to tell me she hooked a man who can get her out of this place.”
“Gege, wouldn’t it be better if she hooked a woman?” Shen Yuan tucks the paper back into his backpack and walks deeper inside the apartment while his brother heads out.
“Unfortunately for her, women are harder to fool.” With that, he says goodbye and starts to go down what feels like an endless flight of worn-out stairs that have caused him more than a few injuries over the years, until he reaches the first floor.
…
“You took forever!” In a small park in front of the apartment complex, a beautiful and voluptuous woman sits on one of the two swings, wearing worn clothes that blend in with the rusted state of everything in that tiny area. Contrary to Shen Jiu’s memories, there is not a single child playing there anymore—after all, any kid who tries to slide down that piece-of-shit of a slide would have a high chance of coming out with AIDS.
“Try coming down twenty floors, Miss Fifth Floor, then you can complain to me.” As soon as he reaches her, he sits on the swing beside her. The woman immediately hands him a cigarette and her lighter, which is covered in cheap pink rhinestones. “You still have this? I told you they can’t see you with this junk at work.” Even so, he takes it and uses it to light the cigarette.
“I’m attached to it, okay? I’ve had it since middle school. And they won’t see it—you can’t smoke there. Those people are ridiculously picky about everything, I even had to stop dyeing my hair.” When Shen Jiu hands the lighter back, she slips it into her pocket. “But they pay well…”
“It’s a high-end restaurant, of course they expect you to be presentable.” Shen Jiu relaxes his shoulders and gently swings, inhaling and exhaling the tobacco smoke until Lan Jie holds out a card in front of him. “Red Velvet Escort Services? And what is that supposed to be?”
“While I was on my break, they came to me. I told them I wasn’t interested, but that I had a good-looking friend who might be. I showed them your pictures, and they asked me to pass the information along to you.” Shen Jiu says nothing, so the woman continues. “You helped me get this job. You taught me to dance, sing, and play instruments, so I owe you. Maybe you’ll earn more with them.”
“Maybe.” Shen Jiu takes the card and stares at it before sighing,exhaling another cloud of smoke. “Do you know how much they pay?”
“They were well dressed, and when I looked them up online, they’re one of the most expensive services, so they definitely pay more than what you make now.”
“I hope so… Shen Yuan wants to go to college.”
“But he’s so smart, I’m sure he’ll land a scholarship.” Lan Jie said, gently giving the opposite swing a push.
“I know, but I’d still like to be prepared, I guess. I don’t want him to have debt so young.”
For a moment, silence falls between them, broken only by the sound of the wind brushing against whatever it finds. “If you’re going to take that job, quit what you’re doing now.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to do both and earn more—”
“A-Jiu! You’re the one who’s helped all of us, and you’re still stuck in the pit. Take this job and stop what you’re doing, man. One of these days something’s going to happen to you, and then who’s going to take care of Shen Yuan? You’re all he has!.”
“Tch, fine—but only if this place pays enough.”Shen Jiu said, swinging the card on her face.
“Dress well, okay? Not like Shen Jiu the prostitute, but Shen Jiu the handsome man.” Lan Jie hopped off the swing with a little spring in her step.
“Look who’s talking—the one I had to hose down to get the red dye out of her hair for her job interview! I know how to dress.” He still has a few things saved that he can use.He drops the cigarette butt and crushes it underfoot to fully extinguish it.
“Whatever you say. If you want, I can lend you some clothes,” the woman says with a mischievous smile as Shen Jiu stands up from the swing.
“Those filthy rags? Please.”
“It’s called Shamate* fashion, idiot. It’s smart, and not all my clothes are like that.” They both start heading back to the building. “The problem is you have such an expensive taste—you’ll never be able to dress like that.”
“So what? I can appreciate the charm of elegant clothing.”
They climb the stairs together, talking about trivial things they’ll forget by morning. Lan Jie lends Shen Jiu her “sacred” makeup products and wishes him good luck on his interview.
…
The next morning, after saying goodbye to his brother and before taking his first client, Shen Jiu calls the number on the card, and as if it were fate, they tell him to come immediately. “Immediately” being rather relative, considering he lives on the outskirts of the city, so he dresses as well as he can and finishes applying his makeup while riding the bus.
When he sees the building he is about to enter, he immediately feels out of place.
It is massive—a huge, glamorous hotel. People in suits and what look like magazine models stream in and out in droves. The moment he steps toward the stairs, he feels judged. I know I don’t belong here, thank you. But for him, this is an opportunity he cannot discard out of shame for being different, so he clutches his bag close and climbs all the steps, planting himself at the reception desk.
The moment he walks in, the receptionist looks him up and down and hands him a card. “10th floor, office 3,” she says, turning her face away to attend to people who are actually worth a smile.
The walk to the office is humiliating, but Shen Jiu had come prepared for that already. When he enters, he sees only one person.
An older woman, around fifty, dressed head to toe in luxury clothing, wearing shoes so pointed they could take your eye out. Her straight posture and gray hair—unashamed of its years—make Shen Jiu think of a brothel madam. So he is not surprised by the words that come out of the ‘respectable’ lady's lips.
“Unkempt hair, too skinny, dressed like a beggar—but a good face.” The woman grabs him by the shirt with two of her fingers as if trying not to catch an infection and pulls him fully into the office, closing the door behind her. “Did you grow your hair out because you wanted to, or so your clients have something to grab onto?”
“Both. May I know who I have the pleasure of speaking with?” Shen Jiu replies with a smile.
“I don’t see why you should. For now, you can call me Madam.” She puts on gloves before using two fingers to trace his jawline, gently guiding his head to turn at various angles . “You start today. We need a pretty face like yours. Of course, we’ll have to scrub all that grime off you first.”
“May I ask what I’ll be doing today, Madam?”
“Stand still in a section of a museum for an exhibition. Be a pretty doll for photos. Four hundred dollars. Any problem?”
“None, Madam.”
…
It is surprising how, in three hours, Shen Jiu goes from what he was to having glowing skin and silky hair that shines like nothing else. When he looks at himself in the mirror after a light layer of makeup is applied and he is dressed head to toe in designer brands, he cannot help the surge of nostalgia that nearly overflows from his chest. His reflection reminds him of a time that no longer existed—and never would again.
When they are done with him, the woman who received him enters the room again, this time far more pleased. She only gives him a nod, but for Shen Jiu, that means he is approved—not just for this job, but for future jobs as well.
…
The “job” itself was not complicated.
It simply consists of standing in a specific spot, looking at works of art with a glass of champagne in hand, from which he must not drink. The only instructions he is given are: Do not speak, smile, and when everyone bows, bow as well.
Seeing what the supposed “exhibition” is like, Shen Jiu does not think he will need to follow that last rule—at least not until the event is nearly over.
Footsteps echo across the marble floor, and every single person present falls into deep silence, as if trying to discern the identity of the approaching figure. Within seconds, everyone begins lowering their heads, so Shen Jiu does the same, minding his posture and careful not to spill his drink.
The footsteps grow louder, and like a gust, someone passes in front of him. Shen Jiu could not resist stealing a glance at the person so important that everyone lowers their heads when he passes—and what little he sees makes his blood run cold. That mane of curly hair that stands out among everyone else, and that back… he knows it better than anyone. Even so, he lowers his gaze again, thinking perhaps it is all the result of his loneliness and longing. But the voice is unmistakable, and his ears are blessed once more with its sound.
“Dai-lo, it’s an honor to have you here,” the voice, Shen Jiu assumes is the organizer, is heard first.
“I came merely to make an appearance, don’t get your hopes up. Now that I’ve seen what you’ve put together, there’s no need for me to stay.” The words are spoken in a familiar voice, yet they sound so strange—they lack the warmth and intensity his husband once had. Perhaps he…
This is something he had already prepared himself for, seeing how those around him did not retain their memories as he did. As he raises his head again when that person leaves the hall along with everyone else, he cannot help but stare at the corridor through which he departed.
Tianlang-jun, even if you don’t recognize me in this life, I swear on what little I have that I will force you to remember… or make you fall in love with me again.
…
“Ugh! That scared me so much!” one of the many girls around Shen Jiu exclaims. To return from the event, all the hired companions ride in the same luxury limousine. This particular girl has extremely long hair, which she immediately lets down upon entering, just as she kicks off her heels along with the others.
“Excuse me, but I’d like to know who that person was,” Shen Jiu asks politely.
“Oh, right—you’re new. Think of him as… the boss of the company that organized the event,” the girl explains, sprawling across the seat. “He’s awful, super bad-tempered, so no one can look him in the eye unless you’re high-ranking. I heard that once a girl from another agency tried to flirt with him, and the poor thing was never seen again.”
“Well, then it’s not really a company,” Shen Jiu comments, relaxing as much as he can in the tight suit he is wearing.
“What’s your name?”
“Shen Jiu.”
“Alright, Shen Jiu—if you want to stay alive, just think of it as a company. Do you understand?. The dumber you act, the more work you get,” the girl says, suddenly very serious.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Oh, but don’t worry,” the girl returns to her previous tone when another girl passes her a bottle of water. “He’s so important you’ll hardly ever run into him. He only shows up at galas like this or at parties for people waaay high up in the company.”
“Good to know.” Bad news, then. How am I supposed to see him again? And if he doesn’t remember me, how could I even get close enough to speak to him? As Shen Jiu thinks, the others in the limousine celebrate the end of the event—and, of course, the payment they are about to receive.
*Shamate or SMART is a youth subculture and fashion movement originating from migrant workers in 2000s South China.It is characterized by eccentric makeup, hairstyles and clothing.