"You just want money, don't you? I'll give you however much you want. Stop washing feet and come to a hotel with me!"
"Fuck! Who are you pretending to be so proper for?! Isn't this job all about making money with your body?!"
"You filthy bitch, do you really think your cunt is studded with diamonds?! Get the hell out!!"
Qingzhou City, a residential complex.
At five in the morning, twenty-four-year-old Zhang Yan came home from work with a shoulder bag slung over her back.
The mark from a customer's slap still lingered on her face.
At this hour, the city was at its quietest.
The paths through the complex were utterly silent. As far as the eye could see, the towering buildings were dark, with only one or two homes still lit up now and then—probably kids staying up to play video games.
The people who got off work at this hour were probably what everyone called society's fringe.
Zhang Yan pushed open the door. She had barely taken off her shoes when a string of insults came from the living room:
"Oh, you're off work again? Little slut, how was business today?"
"Keep at it while you're still young and seductive. Show off that pretty face while you can. Once you get older, let's see what normal man would want you!"
"When that time comes, just wait to marry some divorced, wife-beating bastard! Even if he beats you to death, I won't lift a finger to help!!"
The one speaking was Zhang Yan's father.
A fifty-year-old middle-aged man who had accomplished nothing in life and owed hundreds of thousands in gambling debts.
Zhang Yan had long grown used to her father's abuse.
"I'm not planning to get married."
She answered calmly, then returned to her room alone.
However,
the moment she shut the door, Zhang Yan collapsed onto the floor.
The tears she had been holding back finally came pouring out.
How could she not know all those things he had just said?
A father drowning in gambling debt, a mother hospitalized with an illness, and a younger brother still in school.
If she did not carry this family, who would?
The only thing she could do was hold firmly to her bottom line before the men who wanted to spend money to sleep with her.
But that bottom line earned her no respect whatsoever.
From the moment she entered this line of work, she had known that love would never be part of her life.
Marriage, even more so, had become a luxury.
Looking out through the window of her room, she could take in the bustling city in its entirety.
Yet in this vast city, there was nowhere for her to belong.
After steadying herself, Zhang Yan returned to bed. Unable to sleep, she started scrolling through her phone.
Dancing, suggestive content, clickbait accounts.
The same mindless short videos as always.
Occasionally mixed in were movie recaps that ran for twenty minutes at a time.
Zhang Yan did not know what meaning there was in watching them, but only when she scrolled through Douyin could she briefly escape from her life.
One video after another.
Her finger kept swiping downward.
Then, Zhang Yan's finger stopped.
One video caught her attention.
A girl in a school uniform held a cello, seemingly preparing to perform.
Perhaps it was the uniform that drew her in, but Zhang Yan did not swipe past it.
After all, Zhang Yan's own job
was to cosplay as a high school girl and wash people's feet.
Technician No. 7—that was the name people knew her by.
People like her did not deserve names.
Looking at the high school student in the video, Zhang Yan suddenly thought of the teenage boy and girl she had met a few days ago.
That girl had been truly beautiful, leaving a deep impression on Zhang Yan.
It was from her that Zhang Yan had learned what a real high school girl was like.
After that day, Zhang Yan studied hard and kept reviewing herself. At last, she had learned thirty percent of the essence.
That thirty percent alone had made her business surge over the past few days. Countless bosses had started coming to her by name to have their feet washed.
Today, one boss had even been willing to spend a fortune to take her away.
She should have been happy, but Zhang Yan only felt more and more lost.
She began wondering whether the path she had chosen was truly the right one.
Seeing the girl in the video filled her with intense envy.
If she had really been a high school girl, perhaps her fate would have been different.
Unfortunately, she had only attended vocational school. Vocational school did not really count as high school.
"~"
As the girl in the video drew her bow across the cello,
a leisurely melody began echoing through Zhang Yan's room.
Zhang Yan froze at once.
What kind of beautiful melody was this?
Gentle and affectionate, like a pair of hands softly caressing the tear tracks on Zhang Yan's face.
Like love itself.
It made people lose themselves in it before they even realized it.
The dim room, the cold bedcovers.
Amid that exquisitely beautiful cello music, Zhang Yan lay on her bed and remembered so many things.
Once upon a time, she too had been a girl who carried beautiful hopes for love.
She had longed for a sweet romance like the ones in love stories.
In truth, she really had been in a relationship.
From vocational school until graduation, they had been together for three years.
But after she chose to work at the foot-washing parlor, the man who had stayed by her side for three years finally broke up with her after failing to persuade her otherwise.
She had cried her heart out over it.
But why had she now become so numb?
Zhang Yan's heart bled.
As the music reached its climax,
the impassioned cello gradually softened, falling into a tender murmur.
Zhang Yan was deeply moved.
There were clearly still so many beautiful loves in this world waiting for her to discover!
So why? Why could she only resign herself to being society's discarded scraps?
Did she really have no other path to choose?!
At last, Zhang Yan could no longer hold herself back and sat up from the bed.
She kicked the door open and looked at her father smoking in the living room.
Biting her lip, she choked out,
"After this month, I'm quitting!"
"From now on, I'm never helping you pay off your gambling debts again!"
After using every ounce of strength to say it all,
Zhang Yan returned to her room and opened the video again.
Only then did she notice the description beneath it.
The song was called "Salut d'Amour"?
What a beautiful melody.
The girl's name was "Cat"?
Even though this "Cat" had not shown her face, Zhang Yan had a feeling.
She had to be another girl like the one from that day, someone filled with the purest youthful spirit, right?
She played the cello so well.
There must have been a love as beautiful as this song by her side, too.
When Lin Tian got out of bed the next day, he was surprised to discover that his Douyin inbox had become "99+."
He jolted awake and hurriedly entered the creator dashboard.
Twenty-three thousand likes, one hundred and ten thousand views, and over six thousand comments.
Lin Tian was stunned.
That ratio of likes and comments was outrageous.
Normally, the number of comments should be one-twentieth of the views. Better-performing videos could reach one-tenth.
But when the ratio greatly exceeded that figure, even reaching over one-third—
aside from people trying to curry favor with the King of Hell, there were generally only two possibilities.
Either the comment section was in the middle of a huge war, with people fiercely arguing back and forth.
Or the video quality was simply incredible.
Lin Tian admitted that when he posted the video, there had been an element of gambling involved.
Holy shit, I actually got recommended such a high-quality performance video on Douyin!
Even a country bumpkin like me felt spiritually elevated after listening to it.
I got goosebumps! It sounded so good?!
I actually saw love at its most beautiful in a single song.
It was an original piece? Is there any expert who can analyze what level this is? I'm a total nobody, but it just feels insanely good!
.
A dense stream of comments drifted past.
At that moment, Lin Tian was finally certain.
The video had blown up!
Before you continue