2. Dim, yellowish-red lighting

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I sometimes take the subway to and from work, sometimes the bus; the commute takes about the same amount of time, roughly 40 minutes each way.

Autumn 2009 was almost over, and winter was beginning. Shanghai winters are quite cold; at that time of year, most people start wearing coats, and a T-shirt or shirt isn't enough.

It was Friday, and wanting to finish my work perfectly so I could have a proper weekend rest, I worked a little overtime, leaving the office around 7:30. The bus wasn't too crowded, so I found a window seat, not to glance at the streetlights or shops.

The bus route home has a stretch of about a kilometer where it turns onto a side street, probably because there are several residential areas where bus stops are being set up, before returning to the main road.

As before, on the right side of this side street, I saw several shops with dim, reddish-yellow lights inside; I knew they were brothels. If nothing unexpected happened, I'd probably just glance at them and move on, then go home, get something to eat, watch some TV with Yanzi, and happily spend the weekend.

This time, in the few seconds the bus passed those shops, I vaguely saw a girl with a great figure sitting in one of them. I don't know if it was the lighting or the relaxation after a week of work, but suddenly I felt a surge of lust, and only one thought echoed in my mind: I have to sleep with that girl today.

Soon, the bus reached the next stop, and I couldn't wait to get off. I walked back, and in less than 10 minutes, I arrived at the hair salon.

I opened the glass door and went inside. There were about four or five women sitting inside. One of the women near the door saw me come in and immediately called out: "Handsome guy, come in with me." I glanced around and then pointed to the girl I had seen earlier: "I'm looking for you." The girl stood up. She was wearing a short leather skirt, stockings, and boots. Perhaps because of the high heels, she seemed taller than a swallow. The woman who had spoken to me earlier complained from behind: "Why did we have to choose her again? We're all going to starve."

I followed the girl in the leather skirt into a small room. After inquiring about the price, she skillfully removed her boots and skirt, spread her legs, and lay down on the small bed. The act began. She mentioned she had a boyfriend who was still in university.

It was over quickly, and I left the dimly lit room. The girl in the leather skirt seemed reluctant to let me go, calling out, "Take care, come again next time." I knew it was just a professional habit; she wanted me to come back for more business, nothing more.

A slightly chilly wind was blowing on the street. I felt a mix of regret and satisfaction. Regret because I felt bad for Yanzi, and the consequences of her finding out were unimaginable. Satisfaction because the girl in the leather skirt was indeed very beautiful. I couldn't understand how someone with such a good figure and face could do this kind of thing in such a run-down place.

At the same time, another voice inside me seemed to be constantly telling me: "Such a pretty girl in a leather skirt does this. Yanzi is already very pretty; what if she put on some makeup and became a leather skirt girl too?" The thought of other men seeing Yanzi in such places and their infatuation with her body made me feel hot all over. If there were such a thing as adrenaline, I think I would have been injected with it at that moment. One thought kept swirling in my mind: I like Yanzi, I love her, but I just want her to experience those kinds of places, to let other men have a taste, so that while other men are still obsessed with her, I will be Yanzi's man, and she will belong to me. I know this thought is wrong. If Yanzi found out, at best she'd get a few slaps, at worst she'd say goodbye.

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2. Dim, yellowish-red lighting

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