Dongguan Railway Station.
Cao Yang stepped out of the station, luggage slung over his shoulder, and stared in a daze at the endless surge of people and traffic before him.
He made his way to a newsstand with a public phone, pulled out a slip of paper, and dialed the number scrawled on it.
"Hello..." A pleasant voice came through, lazy and syrupy, like she'd just been roused from sleep.
"Sister Yan, it's me, Cao Yang. I've made it to Dongguan."
"Mmm-hmm... 'kay, got it. Hang on a sec, I'll come pick you up soon."
After hanging up, Cao Yang checked the time—3 PM. Why was Sister Yan still asleep? Was she pulling a night shift at the factory?
The Dongguan summer air was a thick, scorching soup, heavy with humidity that clung to your skin. Cao Yang found a shady nook to sit and waited, restless, for Li Yan to come get him.
Li Yan was a neighbor from back home—stunning, his childhood goddess, pure and simple.
Li Yan had come to Dongguan to work two years prior, sending thousands of yuan home each year. In the village, that made her quite the success story.
Li Yan's mother and Cao Yang's mother were as close as sisters, so they'd pushed Cao Yang to come lean on Li Yan, hoping he could also scrape together a few thousand yuan a year to send back.
At first, Li Yan had refused, saying their factory didn't take on men.
But her mother had waved it off recklessly, saying, "If your factory doesn't want him, I'll find Cao Yang another one."
...
After about an hour, Cao Yang spotted a woman—tall, fair, in a white dress and crystal heels—striding toward him.
"Sister Yan!" Cao Yang waved, marveling inwardly at how dazzling she'd become.
Li Yan reached him, her eyes sweeping over his hopelessly tacky luggage bag with a frown.
"You've shot up another inch in two years, but you're still such a hick." She eyed Cao Yang, now a full head taller, and gestured the difference.
"Let's go, get in the car." Li Yan flagged down a taxi with a flick of her wrist.
Cao Yang settled into the back seat beside her, catching a whiff of her sweet, floral perfume and involuntarily drawing in a few deeper breaths.
Glancing at Sister Yan, her white dress was pretty, but flimsy—up close, it was sheer enough that Cao Yang could make out the black underwear beneath.
"I heard you got into some trouble back home?"
"Mmm." Cao Yang nodded, his voice barely a whisper.
Li Yan's tone turned sharp: "Now that you're here, focus on making money. No fighting, no nonsense—money's the only thing that matters."
"Mmm." Cao Yang nodded, playing the obedient pup.
"Since your mom sent you to me, I've got to take responsibility for you. You listen to me, got it? If you don't, I'll wash my hands of you!"
"Mmm." Cao Yang nodded again, quicker this time.
"How much did your mom give you when you left?"
"Two hundred yuan, all borrowed." Cao Yang answered, his voice flat.
"Where's the money?"
"In my pocket."
"Give it to me." Li Yan reached right in and fished out 125 yuan.
Cao Yang felt a twist in his gut—who snatches someone's money the second they meet?
"No," Cao Yang shook his head, biting his tongue. She's robbing me blind, he seethed. But with his job prospects hanging entirely on her, he dared not utter a word.
They were neighbors, their moms were like sisters—she wouldn't screw him over, he told himself.
...
The taxi pulled up to the mouth of a narrow, crowded alley in Chang'an—a typical urban village (chengzhongcun). Li Yan paid the driver and led Cao Yang into the labyrinth of tightly packed, nondescript buildings.
They stopped at one such structure, climbed to the third floor, and she unlocked a door to a two-bedroom apartment.
But a Dongguan two-bedroom was a far cry from what Cao Yang knew. The entire place—two claustrophobic bedrooms, a cramped living area, a tiny kitchenette, and a bathroom—couldn't have been more than forty square meters.
"Sister Yan, you live here?" Cao Yang blurted out, unable to hide his surprise. Factory girls lived in dorms, didn't they? Why waste money on this?
"Don't ask questions." Li Yan shut him down, her tone leaving no room for argument.
She ducked into a room, emerged with a blanket, and pointed to the sofa: "I've got a friend—their electronics factory is hiring. I'll take you tomorrow. You can crash on the sofa tonight."
Cao Yang nodded, then nodded toward the other bedroom: "Isn't there another room?"
"That's someone else's."
"This weather's insane—five minutes outside and you're soaked in sweat for two hours." Li Yan complained, then made a beeline for the bathroom to shower.
Through the frosted glass door, Cao Yang could just make out the blurry outline of her figure.
He swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away.
Soon, Li Yan emerged, now clad in a black ice silk nightgown that clung to her curves.
"You gonna shower? There's shampoo and all that jazz inside."
Cao Yang nodded, but his eyes were glued to Li Yan's chest.
"Eyes above the neck, or you'll lose 'em!" Li Yan caught him staring, clamping a hand over her chest and snapping a warning.
Cao Yang felt like a deer caught in headlights, head bowed as he shuffled to the bathroom.
He stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes. At his age, brimming with testosterone, even a bikini poster would've gotten a reaction—let alone a real woman, and his childhood goddess at that.
He turned the water to cold, letting the shock of it try to douse the heat coursing through him. The icy spray did little to calm his racing thoughts, but eventually, it cooled his feverish skin. He squeezed out shampoo and lathered up, midway through when—bang!—the door flew open.
"Jesus Christ! Who are you?!"
Cao Yang's eyes flew open to see a girl staring at his lower half, her eyes wide with shock.
Cao Yang was mortified, hands flying to cover himself.
"Ai ai ai...This is a younger brother from my hometown." Li Yan heard the commotion and came rushing out.
She pulled the girl away, darting a glance at Cao Yang—though he was covered, she saw nothing.
After that fiasco, Cao Yang hustled to rinse off, threw on his clothes, and bolted out of the bathroom.
"Let me introduce you. This is Zhou Qing, my colleague and roommate—call her Sister Qing."
"This is Cao Yang, a hometown kid—you can call him Xiao Cao or Xiao Yang."
After Li Yan's introduction, Cao Yang forced a smile: "Hello, Sister Qing."
Zhou Qing nodded, a half-amused, half-odd look on her face, her eyes darting around as if she'd seen a spectacle.
"Oh, quit gawking. Let's go eat, then head to work." Li Yan dragged Zhou Qing toward the door.
"Sister Yan, I haven't eaten either." Cao Yang piped up, not about to be left out.
"You go grab a plate of chao fen (stir-fried rice noodles) on your own."
"But I've got no money!"
Only then did Li Yan remember she'd emptied his pockets.
"Fine, let's go together."
The three trundled downstairs to a seafood porridge stall, its tables packed with customers.
Two shirtless men with dragon tattoos winding up their arms—straight-up hooligans—spotted Li Yan and waved her over.
Li Yan and Zhou Qing made their way over boldly, clearly on familiar terms.
"Who's this?" One of them jabbed a finger at Cao Yang, asking Li Yan and Zhou Qing.
"This is a kid from my hometown—here to work. I'll get him into a factory tomorrow."