Chapter 1811 - The Carrot and the Stick
"Let me make myself perfectly clear: abandon whatever fantasies you're still clinging to! Once you've entered this establishment, you can forget all pretense of virtue and propriety. Clean yourself up and prepare to receive clients! Be obedient, and Mother will arrange for a wealthy patron to properly 'comb' you. Defy me—" Madam Yao's voice dropped to something venomous, "—and I'll have some bachelors initiate you with thick candles first. Then we'll bring in dock workers and boatmen to service you daily—let you enjoy yourself to the fullest!"
"No, no, please..." He Xiaoyue's wits had long since deserted her. At this fresh horror, she dissolved into pleading and desperate supplication. "I beg Mother for mercy. This servant will never forget your great kindness..."
Madam Yao judged the timing was right. She softened her tone to something almost maternal: "Young lady—I know your situation. A widow keeping faith, forced into that hell-hole Pure Virtue Hall. Your natal family and your husband's family—from what I can see—neither set much store by you. Even if you were redeemed now, wouldn't they just ship you straight back to that living coffin? Staring at the same four corners of sky, trapped in your room spinning and weaving all day, never enough to eat, beaten and cursed at every turn. Is this any worse than a widow's tower? And that Master Zhu who came proposing marriage—you think Mother didn't investigate? You think he'd treat you any better than Master Dong? In the end, for women of our station, what man is really any good? They're all cut from the same cloth."
This was half-truth, half-fabrication. The claim that Master Zhu hadn't been investigated was certainly a lie—but the observation that these men were "cut from the same cloth" might well be accurate. The words struck He Xiaoyue like a physical blow. Falling into the pleasure quarters was unthinkable. But returning to the Pure Virtue Hall—that living tomb where she couldn't hold her head up, couldn't glimpse the sky, confined to a room every day spinning and weaving, never enough to eat, enduring constant beatings and abuse—she absolutely couldn't bear that either. That desperation had driven her escape in the first place.
Madam Yao watched He Xiaoyue fall silent and knew her words had found their mark. She pressed her advantage: "Though our trade here isn't exactly glorious, the girls eat and drink well, wear silks and satins, have servant girls attending them. In what way is it worse than Pure Virtue Hall? You're from an educated family, after all. Give it a few years, and some young master or merchant's son from a wealthy house will take a fancy to you. Then you'll 'go straight' naturally. Why torture yourself over momentary notions of reputation?"
He Xiaoyue said nothing, but her face betrayed the war within her—a wavering slide toward resignation. Madam Yao recognized the moment was ripe. Her expression shifted abruptly, turning harsh: "Miss He, I see you're a sensible person. Auntie has been kind, so I've gone easy these past few days. Otherwise—you think there'd be good fruit for you? Now listen carefully!"
With that pronouncement, she swept out. The servant woman locked the door behind her. In a low voice, Madam Yao instructed: "Go to the accounts office. Get her a few plasters of bruise medicine. And tell the main kitchen—give her something decent to eat and drink tonight."
The servant woman understood perfectly. "Yes, this servant understands." She added with obvious flattery: "Auntie's methods are truly remarkable."
Madam Yao's smile was smug: "Ha—never mind some chaste widow from a minor household. Even court-appointed widows with imperial chastity arches, once they fall into my hands, I have them begging on their knees to receive clients!"
She returned to the front parlor and reported the situation in detail to Madam Han, predicting that within a few days this He Xiaoyue would submit. After a brief recuperation, Muyun could teach her some lute. Then they'd slowly select patrons willing to pay for her deflowering.
"Have Muyun teach her lute for a few days first," Madam Han mused. "We'll see whether she's bright or dull."
"Yes." Madam Yao agreed, then added: "Only this registration business..."
"There's no rush. First let's see if Old Man Fang's miracle pill works." Madam Han considered. "As for household registration, we can wait as well. For now, just register her as a temporary resident. Once she's fully broken in, we'll make it permanent."
Temporary registration didn't require personal appearance—it was limited to fifteen days' stay. Madam Han's greatest worry was that during the 'yellow ticket' application process, He Xiaoyue might shout "Unwilling!" right there in public. That would spell disaster—the police station operated in full view, and Australians were notorious for their inflexibility.
"In my view, we still need gentler methods," Madam Yao said. "Don't push her too hard. This young lady suffered plenty in Pure Virtue Hall. Coming from a sheltered background, she can't endure harsh treatment. Give her good food and drink, let her feel that life here is better than Pure Virtue Hall, and we'll have ninety-nine percent success."
Madam Han nodded: "Simple enough. Handle it as you see fit."
"Yes." Madam Yao agreed. She was about to withdraw when Madam Han called her back: "Just now someone brought a child for me to consider buying—normally nothing special. But now I'm hesitating. Help me think this through?"
"How did this child come to us?" Madam Yao asked. "If through a kidnapper, that's manageable—clean origins. What I'd worry about is relatives or parents selling her directly. With these new ordinances, if they use their status as family to make trouble later, the establishment won't handle it well."
Brothels were always happy to acquire more children. But with the Australians' stance still unclear, neither Madam Han nor Madam Yao dared act rashly.
Yet Madam Han was truly reluctant to let go of this potential "money tree." She had already examined the girl earlier—well-proportioned, a local, and seemingly quite clever.
She hesitated: "You make a fair point. It's just—this child has excellent bone structure. And they're only asking fifteen taels. Such a waste to pass up."
Madam Yao's instinct was against buying. But reading the madam's expression and knowing she couldn't let go, she offered: "If you want to proceed, why not follow Old Man Fang's suggestion? Register her as a foster daughter. The girls in the establishment all need proper identities anyway. One more or one less won't matter."
Madam Han nodded: "Very well. Let me think on it further."
Li Ziyu had been feeling quite pleased with himself lately. In the police bureau's qualifying examination two days prior, he had broken into the top ten for the first time. His persistent reporting of the headless corpse case, combined with his performance during the subsequent investigation, had earned him notice—though the case remained unsolved, Chief Pan and the others had shown growing interest. They had specifically approached him about transferring to criminal investigation and had reassigned him from his basic patrol post at the district station up to the municipal bureau's Public Security Section. Ah Gui had ridden these rising tides as well, counted among the "meritorious personnel" and promoted alongside him.
Li Ziyu was no longer a mere beat patrolman but a "team leader" now—though he could only command Ah Gui, a team of one.
All of this demonstrated unmistakably that the chiefs were grooming him for advancement. Consequently, at cafeteria meals, Li Ziyu found himself eating two extra bowls of rice than usual.
He came from a minor bureaucrat family, and his drive for merit and position burned stronger than most. Lately, his work enthusiasm had been considerable—he was even taking his meals in the last batch.
The municipal bureau's food was identical to the district stations', but it had an actual cafeteria that doubled as the main auditorium. More crowded, too. Li Ziyu had barely entered when Zhao Gui was already waving him over.
"Brother Yu, over here!"
Zhao Gui had arrived early to collect their meals and was saving him a seat. Since their transfer to the municipal bureau, he had become even more attentive to Li Ziyu—essentially functioning as his personal assistant.
"Brother Yu, I owe you so much! Without you, I'd definitely have failed this exam! Here—eat more meat!" As he spoke, Zhao Gui attempted to transfer the lone drumstick from his own lunchbox to Li Ziyu's.
"Hey, hey—no, no!" Noticing the murderous glares from nearby diners, Li Ziyu hastily waved off the queue-jumping gesture. "Don't—the new way of life requires us to follow the rules. I'd better just wait my turn in line."
"Hehe, right, right. Then sit in the back first—I'll bring over the congee when I fetch it." Zhao Gui grinned apologetically and gestured toward the interior.
Li Ziyu lifted the bamboo curtain and stepped inside. Cool air enveloped him instantly. About a dozen small tables occupied the space. Against one wall, a cabinet counter wiped sparkling clean displayed seven or eight large ceramic jars draped with gauze—filled with various drinking accompaniments: boiled sprouted beans, dressed bean sprouts, Australian pickles, boiled razor clams... Behind the counter sat wine jars and congee barrels. Wine vessels, bowls, and chopsticks gleamed spotlessly. The entire effect was crisp and hygienic.
Since it wasn't mealtime, not a single customer sat inside. The woman minding the counter was in her early twenties—and the moment Li Ziyu saw her, something stirred within him.
This was the young lady from the Dong family's shop!
Dong Mingdang's mother and daughter had opened this establishment. Li Ziyu was a regular customer.
Then, just as he was about to find a seat, his gaze was drawn to a table where a female police officer sat alone—someone with short, efficient hair and a pretty oval face. Unlike the other female officers in Guangzhou who clustered together chattering during meals, this one occupied her table in solitude, eating quietly, her face clouded with preoccupation.
"Hey, Ah Gui—who's that woman over there? I don't think I've seen her before."
Ah Gui looked up from his rice-flecked face and followed Li Ziyu's gaze.
"That's a real beauty. But I don't know her... Someone like that wouldn't talk to me anyway, hehe."
Just then, the man seated across from Li Ziyu spoke up: "Her? That's Officer Lian Nishang—a household registration officer transferred from Lingao a few days ago. She's been assigned to the municipal bureau's Household Registration Section. But..." He lowered his voice a few notches. "Word is she came here as a veteran to guide our work. Though I hear she actually got transferred to Guangzhou because she made some mistake back in Lingao..."
"Oh... I see... I see..." Li Ziyu wore an expression of sudden enlightenment.
"Brother Yu, what do you see now?" Ah Gui asked, bewildered.
"Nothing, nothing. Just eat, eat." Li Ziyu observed that the Dong family's business was flourishing and prosperous, and though this wasn't his own affair, his heart felt strangely cheerful. How peculiar—ever since that adventure on the West River and their desperate escape back to Guangzhou, his affection for these younger brothers seemed to have grown ever deeper.
(End of Chapter)