Chapter 12: Opening for Business

After seeing how the other workers were treated, Liu Liwa felt secretly relieved, and naturally he felt very grateful to Yang Xiaosi beside him.

Then Yang Xiaosi explained the benefits after starting work. Although they were banished here as slaves, it was mainly a form of psychological punishment meant to strip these young masters and misses of their dignity—a more vicious method of breaking their spirit. However, if everyone could adapt like Liu Liwa and just go with the flow, this punishment would naturally become ineffective. Moreover, here, no matter what you did, the benefits and treatment were the same as for other employees. If someone could become a top courtesan and saved enough money, it was still possible to buy back their freedom and regain it, though their official registration in the “Lowly Status Register” could not be changed.

Of course, nothing was absolute. If someone thrived, especially the girls, and attracted the attention of a high-ranking official or noble, and the authorities no longer kept an eye on them, there was a possibility of “removing the lowly status and establishing them as respectable households.” But that was all for later, and it depended entirely on “doing well.” At the very least, one had to first endure the change in status and the loss of dignity. Many people, overwhelmed by the sudden change, committed suicide, or unable to bear the humiliation, tried to run away and were killed on the spot. In short, everything depended on oneself.

As for wages, someone like Liu Liwa, a reserve “Brothel Steward” who hadn’t started from menial labor, had skipped ahead directly. In the future, he would receive a monthly salary of two Silver Taels. Liu Liwa had no concept of currency in this era, so he patiently asked for clarification. Zhang Xiaosi understood that, given Liu Liwa’s background as the son of a prime minister, he wouldn’t understand money matters, and since Liu Liwa kept calling him “Brother Si,” he was willing to explain.

In this era, ordinary people mainly used copper coins for spending. One copper coin could buy one meat bun. Liu Liwa’s future monthly salary was two Silver Taels, which was equivalent to two hundred copper coins—or two hundred buns. Not bad, at least it was enough to support himself, which was better than later when he served Furong and Sister Feng, earning two thousand coins a month. After paying for rent, utilities, phone bills, and transportation, he couldn’t even save enough for two hundred buns; sometimes he had to go hungry for several meals. Here, not only did he get a salary, but he also had food and lodging provided. Enough said—long live time travel!

At noon, Liu Liwa ate his first meal after time traveling at the Intoxication Pavilion. Although it was just steamed buns and vegetables, the buns weren’t dyed, and the vegetables contained no gutter oil, so it tasted especially delicious. He also noticed that only the women on the first floor and the menial workers like them ate the staff meal. The women on the first floor usually took their food back to their rooms to eat, while the women on the second floor would spend a few small coins to ask the menial workers to buy them fast food from outside. The women on the third floor would send their personal maids to prepare dishes. The most impressive was Miss Liuyun on the Fourth Floor, who had the most famous local restaurant specially deliver her meals. Liu Liwa immediately understood why the women on the first floor took their meals back to their rooms—because comparing yourself to others could be deadly. Even though they were all in the same fallen situation, they still showed off and competed, establishing class hierarchies.

Not only among the women, but even among the menial workers who had sold themselves into servitude, there was scheming and comparison. For example, those workers who bought fast food for the second-floor women earned a few extra copper coins as delivery fees each day, and they felt superior to the other workers. The maids serving the popular women on the third floor, in turn, looked down on these menial workers. The class distinctions were very clear, which made Liu Liwa both amused and exasperated. He also realized that society was society—no matter the era, its essence remained unchanged.

However, none of this dampened Liu Liwa’s good mood. Every society had its dark side, but it also had its bright side. For Liu Liwa, at least he didn’t have to worry about high rent anymore and finally didn’t have to face that unsatisfied middle-aged landlady, who acted as if she would drag him away for “payment in flesh” if he missed a single day’s rent. Most importantly, Furong and Sister Feng—without the iron will to remain calm in the face of disaster, who could stand them? Liu Liwa asked himself and admitted he couldn’t.

As for new life, the most important part was the “new.” New meant starting over, it meant hope. Even if it was still new as a “Brothel Steward,” a “tea server,” being able to live among so many flowers every day, as long as he took precautions against infectious diseases, it could still be a good life!

After lunch, the women gradually appeared. Those who were friends gathered in small groups of three or five, discussing outfits and clothing. Since Liu Liwa was new, he attracted a lot of attention. Some women even threw him a few cheap flirtatious glances. Liu Liwa felt a bit ashamed—he still didn’t know what he looked like, or if he had the looks to deserve free attention from the women.

But he didn’t have such thoughts anyway, because Zhang Xiaosi had warned him early on: the more it was a pleasure house, the more rules there were between men and women. “A rabbit doesn’t eat the grass near its burrow” was the first rule in the Brothel Steward’s code of conduct. The second rule was to wash hands before meals and after using the toilet!

As the day passed, Liu Liwa still hadn’t seen the Little Loli Meng Xinying or the fierce girl Qin Wan’er. He guessed they had been taken by the manager Wu Liniang for personal training. Such rare talents came once in a hundred years and indeed needed focused cultivation.

Time passed bit by bit, and the sky slowly darkened. The women on the first floor changed into their most dazzling outfits, and the servants and menial workers also perked up. Everyone was ready to open for business with full enthusiasm.

The workers busied themselves. Red Lanterns were hung on each floor of the four-story building. Red lanterns were the eternal theme, casting ambiguous glows in the dark night. Looking at the sky, it seemed about time for dinner, but the meal still hadn’t been served. Liu Liwa felt a bit hungry and went to ask Zhang Xiaosi, only to be scolded and sent back with a dark face. Once night fell, Zhang Xiaosi seemed like a different person—fully focused, with an attitude of being willing to bleed and sacrifice for the Intoxication Pavilion, allowing no slackers. Liu Liwa yelling about eating was clearly seen as laziness and avoiding work, so Zhang Xiaosi immediately put on his boss face.

Liu Liwa didn’t mind. He had seen plenty of such two-faced people. Leaders called it “private is private, work is work”—there was always a grand reason. But he eventually figured it out: they didn’t eat before opening for business at night; they only ate after closing. But the pleasure house didn’t close until the next morning, which meant no dinner at night. This was also to remind all staff that only by working hard at night would they have food the next day—it was part of the corporate culture.

Just then, a sharp, drawn-out voice suddenly rang out through the hall: “The Intoxication Pavilion is now open for business…”