“East Sea Dragon Palace? That’s quite a name,” Wang Tian remarked, standing at the entrance to a massive bathhouse. He looked up at the sign, then turned to Qian Yang, who had brought him there, and asked in surprise.
“There are places with even more impressive names. Today, I’m just showing you around so you can get familiar with the place,” Qian Yang said, then led him inside.
“Welcome! Two gentlemen!” The attendant at the entrance pulled the door open for them and called out, startling Wang Tian.
“This is a bathhouse?” Wang Tian asked, looking at the lavishly decorated lobby, completely baffled.
“Keep your voice down. Don’t act like you’ve never seen the world. It’s embarrassing.” Qian Yang hurriedly led him over to change shoes. Soon, Wang Tian got to see what it meant for a place to be far more than it appeared.
“This is really a bathhouse?” Wang Tian’s memories were still stuck in the days when he used to go with his father to the public bathhouse in town as a child. Besides, this sort of thing wasn’t popular in Europe.
Four huge bathing pools and dozens of shower stalls were one thing, but how could there also be a movie theater and an amusement arcade? And a KTV and a mahjong room, too?
“Come on. I’m hungry after soaking. Let’s get something to eat.” Qian Yang led the still-dazed Wang Tian to another floor. Looking at the buffet spread across the entire level, Wang Tian could only admit that he’d been thinking too small.
“What do you think? Pretty comfortable, right?” Qian Yang asked with a grin as he ate hot pot.
“I’m impressed. That’s incredible.” Wang Tian exclaimed, giving him a thumbs-up.
“Once we’ve eaten, we’ll walk it off, then get a massage. I guarantee you’ll be in heaven,” Qian Yang said with a smug grin.
And so, Qian Yang gave the clueless Wang Tian a proper taste of the North’s bathhouse culture. At the end, Qian Yang leaned in and whispered something to him with a mysterious air.
“Go upstairs?” Wang Tian was confused again. What did he mean?
Qian Yang made a gesture that any man would understand, and Wang Tian caught on. But he waved his hand.
It wasn’t that he was putting on airs. Back when he’d lived by the sword, he’d often found someone to blow off steam with. But now he had people following him. Wang Tian glanced behind him and could only turn down the tempting offer.
“That kid’s suddenly learned how to enjoy himself,” Zhang Yang remarked. He and his partner sat off to one side drinking tea, glancing at the two men getting foot massages in the lounge.
“What’s wrong with that? We might as well enjoy ourselves while we’re here, and it’s on the government’s dime.” Zhao Tong gazed happily at the girls walking around with their thighs exposed, his eyes gleaming.
“Watch yourself. We’re public servants,” Zhang Yang reminded Zhao Tong, a confirmed bachelor, being married himself.
“Relax. I’m just enjoying the view. Besides, we’re doing this to fit in, aren’t we?” Zhao Tong said, waving a hand.
Zhang Yang said no more. He knew his partner well: Zhao Tong might talk big, but he never slacked off when it came to the job. There was no point in lecturing him.
“So, what do you think? Has your mind been opened?” In the lounge, the two men had finished their foot massages and ordered another pot of tea. They chatted as they watched people coming and going.
“I’m convinced. Completely convinced. I really was clueless,” Wang Tian said, feeling refreshed from head to toe.
“You know, we did things in the wrong order today. I should’ve taken you out for some skewers first, then gone singing, and finally brought you here for a massage. That would’ve been perfect,” Qian Yang muttered.
“Is there some kind of reason for doing it that way?” Wang Tian asked, eager to learn.
“It’s all about the ritual,” Qian Yang said, prompting Wang Tian to roll his eyes.
“But seriously, you need to find something to do. You can’t just sit around all the time; you’ll end up making yourself sick,” Qian Yang said, looking at him earnestly.
“I honestly don’t know what to do,” Wang Tian replied sincerely.
Ever since childhood, he’d studied nothing but military subjects, intelligence gathering, battlefield first aid, and the like. He also knew several foreign languages, but he couldn’t exactly become a translator.
“You’ll have to figure that out yourself. Either find a job or start some kind of business,” Qian Yang said, scratching his bald head, not entirely sure what to suggest.
“We should get going. Are you staying the night here? You can go upstairs, you know~” Qian Yang said, leering at him.
“Why don’t you go upstairs, then?” Wang Tian rolled his eyes at the man.
“If I weren’t married, I’d definitely go. But I am married, and I’ve got a kid,” Qian Yang said honestly.
“At least you know where to draw the line. Come on. That was enough of an experience. It’s still more comfortable to sleep at home.” Wang Tian drained his tea and stood up.
The two of them headed to the changing room to get ready to leave.
“Let’s go. The target is leaving.” Zhang Yang and Zhao Tong quickly stood up and followed them out.
Wang Tian had meant to pay the bill, but Qian Yang had already beaten him to it. He said nothing; he’d find a chance to treat him next time.
It was really cheap, though. The two of them had eaten and drunk their fill, and even with the foot massages, it had cost less than 700 yuan. He liked this bathhouse culture.
Since they’d both been drinking, they hadn’t driven there. They took a taxi straight home.
After parting ways with Qian Yang, Wang Tian finally returned to his own home.
“I had no idea SY had places this good. Looks like I’ll have to come here more often.”
After marveling at the place, Wang Tian realized that if he’d been bored, it was probably because he hadn’t been going to the right places. He’d have to get out and explore more.
He turned on the TV and curled up on the sofa, planning to stay up a little longer before turning in.
But he had no idea that something would happen in a couple of days and completely shatter his peaceful life.
In an old, run-down house in a suburb of SY.
“Boss, everything’s ready.” A sharp-faced, rat-like man entered a room, carrying a black duffel bag. He set it down among several men who were playing cards.
One of the men, his face covered in a mass of flesh, put down his cards, unzipped the bag, and took a look inside. Satisfied, he patted the skinny man on the shoulder.
“Well done, Monkey. With this gear, we’ve got a much better chance of pulling this off.”
Another emaciated man pulled a locally modified shotgun straight out of the bag. After checking it over, he nodded as well.
“Monkey, you didn’t leave any traces, did you?”
The man called Monkey hurriedly replied,
“Don’t worry, Fifth Brother. I got the parts from rural areas elsewhere, all disassembled. I just finished assembling them myself and brought them straight over. I guarantee I left no trace.”
“Good. Go prepare two vans. Remember, don’t leave any traces. Drive them straight into the back courtyard and park them there,” Fifth Brother instructed.
After Monkey left, the man known as the boss waited for Fifth Brother to put the guns back in the bag. Then he carefully put the bag away, took out a map, pointed to a location, and said,
“Once Monkey brings the vans, we’ll move immediately. We’ll follow the escape route we discussed and lie low for a while. As long as we stick together, once we get to Myanmar, we’ll all live like kings.”
It was a long way, but they could only truly live free and easy once they reached the Golden Triangle. Going anywhere else would mean certain death.
“Don’t worry, big brother. With this gear, we’ll pull it off for sure. Once we’re abroad, we’ll hide out and live carefree.”
“That’s right, big brother. After this job, we won’t have to spend our lives running and hiding anymore.”
And so, the six or seven desperadoes in the room began dreaming of a life of wine, women, and luxury.