Chapter Eighty-Nine: The Bathhouse

People might look down on Little Tortoise and see him as nothing more than the bathhouse ticket clerk, but he was a proper, officially employed worker in a state-owned enterprise.

And not selling tickets? Even if he beat a customer who came to bathe half to death, so long as he could come up with some plausible excuse, nothing would happen to him. Nobody could do a thing to him.

In those days, it did not matter what kind of unit it was; anything related to sales was outrageously high-handed.

...

After Chen Liang entered the men’s changing room, he first handed his ticket to the old man at the door. The old man did not even turn his head; with a forked bamboo rod tipped at the end, he simply hooked down a small wooden tag with a number on it from the wall.

Then he pointed to the little bamboo baskets piled nearby. "Pick one yourself."

Chen Liang casually took a basket, glanced inside to make sure it was not damaged, and headed to a nearby chair to undress.

Just then, Little Tortoise slipped in carrying a small packet of tea leaves. "Brother Liang, I’ve got a packet of tea I swiped from our manager. After you’ve washed up, you can brew a pot and soothe your throat."

Chen Liang looked at him in surprise. "Little Tortoise, how did you get in here? Aren’t you supposed to be selling tickets?"

"Oh, tickets can be sold any time. There’s no rush." Little Tortoise spoke with perfect confidence, not the least bit afraid of gossip or criticism.

"Fine, fine, I know you. You’re as hopeless as a monkey with a hot cake under its mouth."

"Little Tortoise, once you’re on the clock, rein in that temper a bit. This place isn’t the alley at home. If somebody beats you until you’re crying your eyes out, nobody can help you. You hear me?"

"Brother Liang, don’t look down on me. With this little frame of mine, once I take my clothes off, nobody on the whole street dares mess with me."

His tone was full of pride. He was the undisputed tough guy of this public bathhouse; even the manager did not dare chatter too much with him. Push him too far, and he would still answer with a slap.

"Oh, right, Brother Liang. Do you remember the Hu brothers, Da Biao and Er Biao?"

Of course Chen Liang remembered them. Those two fools had once been blind enough to try to set up shop at the entrance to his family’s alley, only to get their faces slapped raw by Chen Erlengzi, one after the other. Since then, whenever they saw Chen Liang, they were like mice seeing a cat, always skirting around him.

And the Hu brothers were rotten through and through. Nightly kicking in widows’ doors, digging up childless graves—those were just the small things. Anything filthy, they would do it. They were as disgusting as bedbugs.

"Why? They dared to provoke you?" Chen Liang no longer bothered to undress. He took half a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out and handed it to Little Tortoise, then lit one for himself.

Little Tortoise saw that it was a pack of premium cigarettes and could not bear to smoke it, so he kept it between his lips just to show it off.

Chen Liang laughed and tossed him the half-pack. "If you want to smoke it, smoke it. What are you keeping it in your mouth for, waiting to perform onstage?"

"Heh heh! Thanks, Brother Liang, for the gift. But shouldn’t good cigarettes be kept for slow, proper enjoyment?" As he spoke, Little Tortoise hurriedly stuffed the cigarettes into his pocket.

Then he leaned in and said quietly to Chen Liang, "Here’s the thing. Somehow Hu Da Biao’s father ended up becoming the public representative manager here. I used to tend the boilers, and those two bastards came to steal coal. I gave them a hard lesson, and after that I got sent to the ticket window."

"That all? Little Tortoise, next time you run into those two trash heaps, just march up and slap them twice, then tell them it was a gift from Brother Liang."

He blew out a stream of smoke. "If you catch them stealing coal again, don’t rush in and make a move. Find out who they’re selling it to first and tell me. I’ll act for heaven myself and clean up those two vermin."

"Really? Brother Liang, you’re already that powerful?" Little Tortoise stared at him in admiration. Damn it all, as expected of Brother Liang. He was truly something else.

When he finished his cigarette, Chen Liang sent Little Tortoise off, then in a few quick motions stripped himself bare.

This fellow was not only quick at undressing the little brat, he was just as fast with his own clothes.

After folding his dirty clothes together with the new ones and putting them into the basket, he handed it to the old man at the door.

The old man glanced at the wooden tag hanging from Chen Liang’s hand, then used another, longer forked bamboo rod to lift the basket up and place it onto the matching hook by the number on the ceiling.

Chen Liang, as carefree as ever, wrapped his soap in a towel and pushed the door open to go in.

Outside was a large, spacious lounge. This area of Chen Liang’s neighborhood was probably considered one of the wealthy districts of the city, so at this hour there were quite a few people inside.

Each of them was as languid as Chen Liang himself. A rare few, bashful, still wore their underpants. Regardless of whether they knew one another, they all mingled in the lounge, some playing chess, some cards, some bragging and telling tall tales. The place was noisy and bustling, truly lively.

Go farther in, and you came to the bathing room. Inside were two pools, one large and one small, for soaking, and shower heads lined three sides of the walls.

The place was big enough to let a hundred people shower at the same time; it was not small by any means.

In fact, in earlier years, this public bathhouse had also been one of the most prestigious in the city. Only officials or wealthy magnates from powerful merchant families were allowed to come here and bathe.

It had complete facilities and elegant decor. After a soak, guests could eat, drink, and amuse themselves to their heart’s content, with everything one could ask for. There were even more than a dozen attendants just running errands.

But to Chen Liang, a bathhouse without a private second-floor VIP room had no soul at all.

When this place was still called Prosperous Bathhouse, ordinary common folk could not even get through the door. But now that was no longer the case. Since the public-private partnership, the private rooms and refined seating areas had been torn down and replaced with a great bathing pool.

It was all in service of the people. No matter how much face the private manager had, so long as ordinary folks had money and tickets, they could come in. Dare to stop them and see what happens? We’d beat your head crooked.

Once inside the bathing room, the steam was even thicker, a milky haze everywhere, with naked men all around, faintly visible through the fog.

Within two meters of Chen Liang, there was not a soul. He moved through like a crab marching sideways, and if anyone foolish enough drew near and met his eye, they would quietly drift away.

No helping it: the man was simply too intimidating.

Setting aside the muscles carved like they had been chiseled by blades and axes, just the weapon between his legs was bigger than two of someone else’s put together, like some kind of living donkey. How was anyone supposed to compete with that?

Clearly a big shot you could not afford to provoke. Best to leave, best to leave.

The temperature in the small pool was neither too hot nor too cold, just right for a child to play in. When he reached the large pool, Chen Liang first tested the water with his foot, then slipped his whole body into it.