Mr. Wen, in such a sorry state again?

Each dance pays two thousand yuan.

Wen Shuang knew the money wouldn’t be so easy to get.

Money is hard to earn, and shit is hard to swallow.

Actually, after relentlessly taking classes and hustling for commercial gigs these past weeks, she’d finally scraped together enough to hire a lawyer for Wen Fanhai.

But if she used this sum to repay her debts now, she wouldn’t just lose the chance to hire a lawyer, the amount wouldn’t even make a dent in what she owed.

Wen Shuang refused, but the man glanced at the parents gathered with their children nearby and threatened, “Miss Wen, I doubt you’d want to lose your job again, would you?”

Wen Shuang’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

The man’s tone was gruff. “I’ve got plenty of men on my side. With a single word from me, they’ll come and wreck the place, cause a scene. Do you think, after something like that, your boss would still keep you on?”

He’d struck right at her sore spot.

The training center was the only legitimate job she could find right now. If she lost it, she’d have nothing left—not even enough to pay for a lawyer for her father.

Left with no choice, Wen Shuang finally agreed, but made it very clear before going that she would only dance, nothing else.

The man agreed readily. “Don’t worry!”

Night fell. Wen Shuang went to BULE, the hottest club in Jinghai District.

Sister He, the proprietress, caught sight of Wen Shuang and her eyes lit up. “A rare talent. Interested in working here long-term? Every night we get famous executives and rich heirs. Satisfy them, and you could make over a hundred thousand in a single night.”

Wen Shuang shook her head. “Sorry, Sister He. I’m just here to dance. I’m not interested in anything else.”

Sister He handed her a revealing outfit. “That’s fine. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

After changing, Wen Shuang found the outfit indecently exposing.

Two thin straps wrapped twice around her neck, the plunging neckline tight and scant, showing off her figure without restraint. Below, a black mini skirt. The sexual implication was overwhelming.

“Can I not wear this?”

“No way. Who comes to a club in conservative clothes to dance? Men only pay because they want to see some skin. If you want to earn this money, you’ve got to give something in return.”

Wen Shuang remembered last summer when the American sweetheart look was all the rage. She and Tang Yan had strutted out wearing nothing but black tube tops and shorts—showing even more skin than this outfit.

Heads had turned everywhere they went.

After bracing herself, Wen Shuang went on stage.

Lights flashed in a riot of color. She imagined the audience as nothing but cabbages and moved with abandon to the music. Her figure was flawless—her beauty, striking and bold.

The black mini skirt set off her long, slender legs; paired with her chestnut waves and red lips, under the lights she looked every inch the siren.

Seduction radiated from her.

Every man in the crowd was transfixed, eyes glued to her.

“Is she new? She’s incredible. Haven’t seen such a tempting beauty in ages. Go ask—how much for the night?” A greasy man hurriedly questioned the bodyguard beside him.

Mr. Huang squinted with muddy eyes, greedily fixed on Wen Shuang’s exposed alabaster skin.

He’d had his eye on Wen Shuang since the last real estate opening, but Lin Ansheng had stopped him. Now, seeing her again tonight, he was determined to have her.

“President Lin, this woman—I want her.”

The moment President Lin heard Mr. Huang’s words, he fell silent. Mr. Huang was a property magnate who’d struck it rich in recent years; no one dared cross him.

Mr. Huang’s men checked, “This Miss Wen says she doesn’t do guests—she only dances.”

After half an hour, Wen Shuang left the stage to change and go home, but Sister He called her over.

Facing a group of men with unreadable eyes, Wen Shuang felt a chill of foreboding.

“Shuang, what are you waiting for? Go toast Mr. Huang! He asked for you specifically.” Sister He had assured her earlier it was just a drink, nothing more.

Mr. Huang smiled, raising a glass of red wine. “Miss Wen, we meet again. Won’t you give me the honor of a drink tonight?”

Wen Shuang declined politely. “Sorry, Mr. Huang, I’m allergic to alcohol—I can’t drink.”

Mr. Huang replied, “If you’re allergic, just take a sip. That can’t hurt, can it?”

Wen Shuang looked down at the glass of red liquid. She remembered Tang Yan’s warning: never drink at a bar without caution—there was no telling who might slip something into your glass.

So she declined again. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Huang. Even a sip would trigger my allergy.”

Her repeated refusals made Mr. Huang’s smile freeze on his face. “Miss Wen, you’re being quite rude.”

Sister He kept smiling, smoothing things over, saying Wen Shuang was new and didn’t know any better, and offered to find someone else for Mr. Huang.

But Mr. Huang was clearly intent on Wen Shuang tonight.

Her resistance had cost him face, and he would not let it go.

He reached out and grabbed her backside. “You came here to dance, didn’t you? That’s the job, stop pretending to be pure. If I say you’ll accompany me tonight, you will!”

Wen Shuang had always been fierce—unless she was willing, anyone touching her felt like a death sentence.

She immediately grabbed a bottle from the table and smashed it against the man.

Crash!

The bottle shattered.

Mr. Huang had never been so humiliated. He flew into a rage and slapped Wen Shuang across the face. “You bitch! You dare hit me? You’re finished tonight! I’ll make sure you can’t crawl out of this club!”

Chaos erupted.

Sister He tried to intervene, but Mr. Huang’s bodyguard kicked her aside.

Wen Shuang was knocked to the floor by the slap. As she struggled to get up, Mr. Huang pushed her down again. “I was going to give you some face, but I see there’s no need. I’ll have you right here tonight! Anyone who tries to stop me dies!”

Wen Shuang was pinned beneath the obese man, who frantically bit at her pale neck.

She bit his ear hard in return. Mr. Huang screamed in pain and slapped her again, ordering his bodyguards to restrain her.

Wen Shuang spat, “You filthy old cucumber think you’re worthy of touching me?”

Mr. Huang growled, “Strip her. Let’s see how tough she talks then!”

Wen Shuang thought this might be the end.

Suddenly, a team burst into the private room, surrounding the men.

A towering man strode in, bringing with him a breath of cool night air.

“Freeze—this is a vice raid!”

Ji Shen looked closely and saw that the woman tied up on the floor was Wen Shuang. Her cheeks were swollen and red, she wore the black strappy top and skirt, her almond eyes puffy.

He immediately took off his police jacket and draped it over her.

Ji Shen turned. “Take these troublemakers in for questioning!”

Wen Shuang was still shivering in terror, unable to react.

“Officer Ji…?”

Ji Shen bent down, his long, narrow eyes shadowed with depth. “Miss Wen, it’s only been a few days. How did you fall so far so fast?”