Chapter 4 - a fiery girl will born this way

Jiang Jun pushed her away coldly. “Not until she has a clear head in a week.”

The so-called “to-have-a-clear-head” was to stay in a room in the next building. No phone, no book. Besides a bed there was only a toilet. One meal and one bottle of water a day. The meal might be a steamed bun that had already been bitten, or a bowl of sour porridge. There was no water flowing out of the faucet, so it had been several days since Jiang Youyou did not take a bath. The sickly smell coming out of her was revolting. She even thought there were knockout drops in the water, so that everyday her mind was full of voice saying “Go to die… You quickly go to hell…”

The man wearing the cap wouldn’t say a single word. He only came to see her at noon every day. Sometimes he would take a scalpel to scratch on trembling Jiang Youyou’s belly, like a lunatic, to let the icy blade stretch down the navel.

She didn’t cry for help, but closed her eyes to tell herself this was only an illusion. The man said to himself, “If I cut from the belly, there would be a lot of stuff coming out of it.”

Jiang Youyou couldn’t sleep well these nights. She sat in the corner dizzily in a series of phantasms of women in red with dishevelled hair swaying in front of her in the whole room. Some even lying in bed laughing at her with curved eyes and white teeth bleeding in the mouth.

one might hear, no one was willing to be a busy body. She had no pen to write a message on one of her banknotes to ask for help by dialing 110. And they might take away the

men and women in this city who could satisfy their own desires but were swallowed by their desires. So every corner of the city turned into a site of desire-release. The mangrove forest beautiful at day was fully packed with men and women rocking and shaking at night. The

was the last night here. If she did not run away, she had to return to that hell of Room 412. Under the circum

he scar on the back of her hand was no longer bleeding. The strength, no matter how

ou rejoiced at the fact that she was not getting fat, oth

that couldn’t be distinguished as men or women with cigarette in the mouths who were stabbing a

the sewer. She thought she was like a thief, or the Spiderman. In the pocket Fang Ruxiang sewed on her briefs there we

tside world. Recalling the familiar bed in the welfare home, the little plush bear on the headboard, and

the ground. She held her breath and raised her head to see a crescent moon shining coldly in th