Chapter 85: Hell and Heaven (Part One)

After several rounds of passionate entanglement, Jiang Feng finally felt satisfied and got out of bed, leaving the room behind. The video that had been playing nonstop in the room was finally nearing its end.

Li Jia lay on the bed, her body twitching from time to time. She desperately wished she could end her life, but she lacked even the strength to move, her limbs heavy and unresponsive.

Not long after Jiang Feng left, a young woman in a work uniform entered, carrying a set of clean clothes. She glanced at Li Jia with a touch of pity in her eyes, sighed softly, then walked over to pick up the air conditioner blanket from the floor and gently covered Li Jia.

The young woman turned off the television, then went into the bathroom and began filling the bathtub with hot water, clearly preparing it for Li Jia.

Once the bath was ready, she returned, helped Li Jia to her feet, and slowly guided her to the bathroom and into the tub. She washed Li Jia’s body with gentle care, noticing the frequent trembling of Li Jia’s limbs, which made her movements even softer. Gradually, she washed away all the stains, dried blood, and filth from Li Jia’s body, including every hidden place.

Half an hour passed.

With the young woman’s help, Li Jia dressed herself in clean clothes and, for a moment, seemed to become her old self again. But gazing into her hollow, lifeless eyes, it was clear that the former Li Jia was gone forever.

“You were brought here a long time ago, and have endured so much since. Your body is weak now. Let me take you to eat something first, then you’ll need some anti-inflammatory medicine and contraceptives. There are things you must learn to accept. Don’t even think about doing anything foolish,” the young woman said, gently comforting Li Jia, who was now dressed.

“Thank you.”

Li Jia finally turned to look at her, her mind clearing. A warm bath and a clean set of clothes had revived her spirit somewhat, and her strength had returned a little. Still, the intense pain from her lower body had not abated—in fact, it seemed only to worsen.

The young woman sighed. “Women like us can only understand each other’s suffering. Only we know how to care for ourselves; nobody will truly care for us.”

When Li Jia heard these words, the first people she thought of were her parents. Then, her mind turned to Huang Yu, the handsome, talented, and artistic senior—her boyfriend, her beloved.

Her dim eyes regained a trace of light. Because in this world, she was not unloved.

She knew, compared to most people, she was fortunate, even if that fortune had expired yesterday.

“But, do I still deserve Huang Yu’s love and care? If he knew what happened to me, would he still treat me as before—with love, with devotion, with tenderness? Do I still have a future?” Li Jia endlessly questioned herself.

She dared not pursue the answers.

Because she knew, she was no longer worthy of Huang Yu’s affection, his love, or his gentle protection.

They were now impossible in this lifetime.

Even if Huang Yu could accept her, could accept all that had happened, she could never pass the hurdle in her own heart. She could not accept herself.

Because she loved him, just as he loved her.

Led by the young woman, Li Jia ate, took her medicine, and behaved obediently, quietly, which greatly eased the young woman’s worries.

In their time together, Li Jia learned where she was and that it was already past eleven at night. She also learned that the young woman’s name was Peng Min, one of the hostesses here.

Peng Min’s current responsibility was to arrange Li Jia’s accommodation and teach her the rules of the job.

Li Jia’s cooperation was due to her temporarily setting aside any thoughts of suicide. She still had worries—her parents, whose situation she could not know, and Huang Yu, whom she hadn’t contacted for a whole day and was surely worried about her.

Peng Min told her she could not leave, her freedom restricted, and she must work here for some time and earn the manager’s approval before she could hope for release.

The so-called work was to become a hostess like Peng Min, entertaining guests and fulfilling their every desire.

For now, Li Jia needed to familiarize herself with the environment; her actual duties would begin tomorrow night. This time was for rest.

During this period, all communication with the outside world was cut off.

Since Jiang Feng had left, Li Jia had not seen him again, as if he had vanished.

She asked Peng Min about Jiang Feng, but Peng Min only knew he was a person of high status here—even the manager treated him with utmost respect. Rumor had it he might be the nightclub’s owner.

“Li Jia, if you feel overwhelmed tonight, and can’t bear it yourself, this can help you. But there’s only this one dose. If you want more regularly, you’ll have to serve at least one guest a day,” Peng Min said, after explaining everything and escorting Li Jia to a private room, leaving a syringe and a small vial of medicine before departing.

Li Jia knew immediately what these were. She watched Peng Min leave, closed the door, and her hands began to tremble again. She threw both items into the trash.

She slid to the floor behind the door, unable to restrain her sobs.

That day, she shed more tears than in all the years since she’d grown old enough to understand life.

Time passed slowly.

When the wall clock reached three in the morning, Li Jia finally stood up from the floor. She opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

It was a hallway nearly a hundred meters long, lined with small rooms like hers. There must have been forty or fifty rooms along both sides, all for the hostesses.

Li Jia moved slowly down the corridor; every door was tightly shut.

She soon stopped near the end, where security guards stood watch, and surveillance cameras monitored both sides.

She observed carefully but found no chance of escape, so she turned back, visited the restroom, and left disappointed—it was completely sealed, without even a window.

Returning to her room, Li Jia was restless. Perhaps the medicine she’d taken after dinner was working; she grew drowsy and lay down, closing her eyes.

When she woke, feeling discomfort, the small window showed only faint city lights—the night had not ended.

She sat up, turned on the room’s only light, and glanced at the wall clock: five in the morning. She had slept barely an hour.

Li Jia felt physically miserable and inexplicably anxious, as if something vital was missing. Suddenly, her mood grew uneasy, her breathing labored, and her chest ached intensely.

With her body’s mounting discomfort, she realized this was her first attack of withdrawal.

Li Jia curled up in a corner of the bed, clutching the blanket, shivering. She felt wretched, worse than death, and her eyes kept drifting toward the trash can, as if longing for something.

She forced herself to look away, pinched her skin with her nails, trying to use pain to dispel the agony.

Time seemed to crawl.

She felt as though hours or days had passed, but a glance at the clock showed only minutes.

Her symptoms did not abate—in fact, they began to include tears and a runny nose.

She seemed to hear all sorts of voices, robbing her of any peace.

Minutes went by.

Li Jia’s craving grew fierce. Her spirit grew restless, anxious, and unsettled, and a stubborn urge to search for relief took hold.

She looked toward the trash can more and more, as if a voice urged her: Go, use it, and all discomfort will vanish; the world will become still.

That voice offered her every excuse, each more convincing than the last, insisting it was not her fault.

But then another voice countered: Don't go. If you do, you’ll sink deeper and never find your way back—it would be surrender, defeat.

Willpower—ordinary willpower—cannot withstand such trials. Not fearing death doesn't mean one is fearless; in this world, there are many things far more terrifying than death.