The homeless man swallowed several slices of bread in succession, but they were probably too dry, and the bread got stuck in his throat. His face turned red, and he looked at Huang Liang pleadingly.
Huang Liang remained unmoved; he was no longer going to buy him a bottle of water.
The homeless man realized he had gone too far, so he stopped looking at the Huang Liang and instead scooped up a large handful of snow from the chair and stuffed it haphazardly into his mouth.
The melted snow water poured into his throat, finally swallowing the bloated bread that was stuck inside.
Huang Liang looked at him and asked, "Where is Sea Cucumber Street?"
The homeless man took a few deep breaths, patted his chest, and looked at the few remaining breads in the bag. His face showed anger and sorrow, probably blaming himself for eating so quickly and worrying about whether there would be enough left for a meal.
"Where is Sea Cucumber Street?" Huang Liang asked again. He was very patient, but that didn't mean he would be patient forever.
"Oh, sea cucumbers... that's a wonderful place!" The homeless man leaned back on the bench, oblivious to the chill of the snowmelt. "Do you know what a sea cucumber is?"
"Sea cucumber?" Huang Liang remembered that it was called that in China, but he wondered if Europe called it that too.
"Sea cucumber?" The homeless man paused for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Oh no, no, no, it's not that expensive! Sea cucumbers are actually tunicates, white, spiky, and look like cucumbers, but soft. I used to see them all the time when I was a sailor. In temperate waters, they often gather in groups of thousands; they're cheap."
"I'm not here to take a marine biology class," Huang Liang said.
"Oh yes, young man, I know you're going to Sea Cucumber Street, but you must first figure out what a sea cucumber is before you can find it." The tramp smiled mysteriously. "Do you know that sea cucumber has another meaning?"
Seeing the impatience on Huang Liang's face, he said, "Alright, I guessed you didn't know either. I'll tell you, sea cucumber—it's a man's thing!"
A hint of malice flashed in his eyes. "Every year, tens of thousands of ships come and go from the Port of Amsterdam. The sailors are exposed to the sea breeze and seawater for a long time. Their skin changes, and even their penises become different from ordinary people's. They become plump, pale, and strangely elastic, as if they have been pickled in sea salt. People call them sea cucumbers."
"So now you should understand, Sea Cucumber Street is where sailors wash their penises... Hahaha... Do you know how they wash them? Of course, they use the water that flows from women's bodies... Hahaha..."
The homeless man seemed to recall some pleasant memories and burst into maniacal laughter.
"Tell me where it is?" Huang Liang understood. If the homeless man wasn't lying to him, Sea Cucumber Street was probably a hidden alleyway in some red-light district. No wonder it couldn't be found on Google Maps.
The homeless man stopped laughing, looked up at the sky, and said, "Although the Sea Cucumber Street is the cheapest place for sex in all of Amsterdam, no, in all of the Netherlands, the girls there are really good, especially those imported from Ukraine and Serbia. If you'd like to treat me to a ride, I can show you the way."
Huang Liang never expected that a homeless man who couldn't even get enough to eat would make such a request, and he couldn't understand why a human would still have such a physiological desire under such extreme suffering. Just when he instinctively wanted to refuse, the homeless man changed his mind at the last minute.
"Oh, no, no, I'll go by myself. What if you stand me up after I take you there? Just give me the money, twenty euros, oh no, ten euros..."
He held up a finger, and a wolf-like green glint appeared in his eyes again, but this time it wasn't hunger, but greed.
Huang Liang smiled with disgust and contempt, elegantly took out his wallet from his pocket, pulled out a hundred-euro note, and shook it twice in his hand:
"Tell me where it is, and this hundred euros is yours."
"Really?" The homeless man's eyes gleamed even brighter. " Nieuwmarkt, the Weigh House, De Wallen —these are all famous red-light districts. Just ask around and you'll find out where the 'sea cucumbers' are. But every red-light district has low-class brothels specifically for 'sea cucumbers.' I don't know which one you're referring to."
Knowing he wouldn't get any more information from the homeless man, Huang Liang gave him one hundred euros and walked away.
Overjoyed, the homeless man caught the banknotes with trembling hands, his face flushed, and then jumped up as if he had been injected with chicken blood, rushing towards the street to the right of the train station square.
Half an hour later, a bruised and battered homeless man, barely alive, was thrown out of the front door of a red house. A burly Slavic man with a fierce face spat in his face, threw down a piece of paper, and cursed, "Damn it, remember to bring money next time you come, or I'll cut off your penis and feed it to the dogs!"
Looking at the fallen piece of paper, the homeless man couldn't understand how he had brought 100 euros, but when he went to pay, it had turned into a bakery receipt.
Amsterdam is an ancient city, and the houses on both sides of the street retain their old-fashioned and exquisite appearance from centuries ago. Red, blue, or green decorations can be seen everywhere, showing a touch of playfulness and warmth in the snow-covered world.
Three- or four-story buildings lined up in rows, but the doors along the street were very narrow, often only allowing one person to pass through at a time. It is said that there was a strange law in ancient Amsterdam: the larger the door, the more taxes were paid. So people had to make the doors as small as possible, but make the windows as large as possible. Any large items were moved in and out through the windows, and the roofs of the buildings were also fitted with protruding iron hooks and ropes.
Such houses are everywhere, including in several well-known red-light districts. The girls stand either in narrow doorways or sit in large windows, watching passersby and arousing men's hormones with their eyes and gestures.
Huang Liang walked into one of the street corners and passed a row of brothels with red lights on their windows. Perhaps because of the cold weather, most of the girls were hiding inside, and no one came to the door to greet customers. Or perhaps they were not interested in this short man with an Asian face. The women here were all freelancers and were not coerced by anyone. Whether they were willing to spend the night with you depended not only on money but also on their mood.
After walking half a block, a blonde woman opened the narrow door of the red house and came out. Despite the cold weather, she was only wearing a sheepskin trench coat, with very little underneath. Her long, shapely legs, shivering in the cold wind, were revealed beneath her short skirt, making her even more alluring.
Whenever Huang Liang saw the trench coat, he couldn't help but think of Qingmu and glance at it a few more times. The blonde woman immediately leaned against the porch, striking a flirtatious pose and revealing a professional, alluring smile.
Huang Liang stepped forward, and the girl's smile widened, her alluring eyes blinking at him incessantly, as if she could already see the Huahua banknotes.
"Excuse me, do you know this place?" Huang Liang asked, pointing to the note.
The blonde woman looked at the address on the note with disdain and waved her hand impatiently. "Go ahead and ask there." She then turned and went into the shop window.
Huang Liang heard her mutter as she closed the door, "So he's a penniless wretch, damn it!"