No one thought Lola was a good girl.

She herself believed she was a bad girl.

Her biological father was missing, and her mother was a regular escort, like a vending machine. Men only needed to slip a few bills into her bra to unlock that secret door and enjoy hidden pleasures. Growing up in such a "bad" environment, she couldn't help but become a bad girl herself.

She inherited her mother's beauty, with thick, lush black hair that required a lot of effort to tie into a bundle. Her skin was the color of honey-flavored syrup, her lips were very red, and her upper lip slightly curled up, outlining a sweet curve. Her mother's clients often stared at her lips. Her mother had to scold her to keep her mouth shut. But Lola didn't care; she thought her mother was just jealous of her beauty.

She was such a vulgar, brainless, but stunningly beautiful bad girl.

At eighteen, this bad girl faced her first setback in life.

Before that, her life wasn't smooth sailing either—though her family wasn't wealthy, they were just above the poverty line. However, her mother would occasionally run away with men, leaving her behind. Luckily, her mother had a bit of conscience and always left a stack of cash before eloping. Lola managed to survive on that money.

She never thought about going out to work—her mother wouldn't be gone for long. Usually, after two weeks, she would be abandoned by the man and sneak back to their flashy but filthy apartment to live with Lola again. So Lola always remained calm when her mother left.

But this time was different. Her mother seemed to have found true love. Two months passed, and she hadn't returned home.

Lola sometimes wondered if her mother had really found true love or if she had been killed by that man and buried in some desolate place. This thought would linger in her mind for two seconds before being pushed to the corner by other worries.

Her mother ran away, leaving her without a source of income, no money for school fees, and no money for food.

At this point, she started to appreciate her mother's value. Although her mother was a call girl, she had never considered grooming Lola to be her successor. If a client looked at her too long, her mother would get furious—even though her anger was directed at her, calling her a coquettish little whore. Lola knew it was her mother's way of protecting her, so she wasn't angry.

Her mother wasn't very smart and often had romantic, laughable ideas. Even after being deceived by men so many times, she still yearned for warm and beautiful love. But overall, she was still a qualified mother.

Although she often screamed and yelled at Lola, sometimes even threatening to drag Lola down with her, she used her earnings to send Lola to school and dressed her up like a movie starlet, youthful and glamorous… Though in the end, she ran away with a man, Lola still shed a few big tears when she thought of her.

Of course, if Lola liked school, she might have cried even longer. Unfortunately, a call girl's child was destined not to be academically inclined. After her mother left, Lola felt sad for a while but was quickly overwhelmed by the joy of not having to go to that damn school anymore. She was finally free from school!

Lola's mother couldn't afford private school, so she sent her to a public school. There, Lola learned how to smoke, fight, and curse, but never how to study. Occasionally, her mother would ask for her report card, and Lola would produce a forged one. Despite her lack of intelligence, she was very clever at this. She didn't forge an all-A report card but deliberately left two glaring C's to make her mother believe it was real. In truth, everything except those two C's was fake.

Having decided not to go to school, Lola slept until noon the next day. The school called her several times, but she pretended not to hear. No teacher would risk stepping into a red-light district to save a failing student's education. Two weeks later, Lola received an expulsion notice.

When she opened the envelope, Lola felt nothing. She was too young, almost childish, too young to understand the consequences of losing her right to an education. She only felt liberated, free, like a bird escaping its cage, ready to fly wherever the sky allowed.

Lola reveled in her newfound freedom for a moment, then turned to the serious business of having fun. A week later, her fun was cut short due to a lack of funds. After some thought, with her small, not-so-bright head, she decided to find a job to make money.

However, she had no idea where to find work or what kind of job she could do. Her mother, when she left, thought she was leaving behind a beautiful, intelligent daughter with the potential to go to college. In reality, she had raised a pretty little fool.

While searching for a job, the foolish Lola met another fool—Emily.

At that time, Lola was wandering the streets, deeply troubled by the thought of finding work. With her high ponytail and white dress, she looked as pure and innocent as an angel. But everyone on that street knew that this angel had a fierce fighting spirit and a vocabulary of insults that no young girl could ever dream of.

Lola thought her behavior was perfectly normal, and so did her mother—any young, beautiful girl who wanted to grow up safely in this world needed some means of self-defense. Otherwise, their beauty would become a sharp blade that cut them down.

Emily understood this principle but had never thought to follow it. She didn't think she was beautiful enough to need self-defense. However, what she didn't realize was that "beauty" wasn't a necessary condition for her to be harmed—"weakness" was.

That day, the not-so-pretty Emily found herself in trouble, surrounded by several hooligans. Lola, passing by, saw this and, like an angry little cow, put her hands on her hips and chased the hooligans away. Emily stared at the beautiful face of the little cow for a long time before saying, "Thank you… for saving me."

Lola waved her hand. "No problem, just get out of here. This street is full of idle hooligans. I helped you this time, but next time, you might not be so lucky."

Emily looked a bit embarrassed. "I… I'm here to find someone. I've been looking for her apartment for a long time and still can't find it."

"Who are you looking for?"

Emily's hands clenched tightly as she stammered, "Mrs. Harris…"

Lola thought she had misheard. "Say that again?"

Emily's cheeks turned red. "I'm looking for Mrs. Harris."

Lola widened her eyes in surprise and whistled. Mrs. Harris was the most famous madam on this street. If her mother hadn't already made a name for herself as a call girl, she probably would have had to work under Mrs. Harris. This girl looked so proper, dressed in a white blouse and a black skirt, yet the first thing out of her mouth was asking for Mrs. Harris.

She didn't want to get involved. "Mrs. Harris lives at 169 Ruby District. Go straight, turn left, then turn right, and you'll find her apartment. If there's nothing else, I'll be going now. Be careful."

But Emily grabbed her arm and pleaded, "I must get home by six in the evening… Can you take me there tomorrow? I-I can pay you, or bring you food. I work at a high-end restaurant; I can bring you fresh cream cakes… Those cakes are very expensive, five dollars each outside… Please, help me. I need to see Mrs. Harris for something very important."

Lola had never tasted high-end cakes and wasn't interested in cream cakes. But she keenly picked up on a keyword: "You said you work at a high-end restaurant?"

Emily nodded.

Lola thought for a moment and bluntly said, "I'm looking for a job. If you can get me a job at that restaurant, I'll take you to see Mrs. Harris."

Emily hesitated for a moment but then agreed. "I can introduce you to the restaurant manager, but I can't guarantee he'll hire you…"

Lola's eyes gleamed with cunning. "That's fine, that's enough."

Lola's interview went exceptionally well, thanks in large part to the gender of the restaurant manager—no man could resist such a beauty. Moreover, she had even put on some light makeup that day. Lola wasn't good at studying, but she was excellent at seducing men. She brushed her eyelashes long and dark, dabbed a bit of blush on her nose, and painted her lips a syrupy cherry red.

The restaurant manager was captivated at first sight and hired her on the spot. Having secured the job so easily, Lola couldn't help but feel a bit smug, thinking she was much smarter than her mother—after all, neither of them had much education or brains, but she had found a more respectable job than her mother's. Wasn't that proof she was smarter?

That day, she took Emily to Mrs. Harris's apartment. Although she was curious about what Emily wanted with Mrs. Harris, she had no intention of stepping into that luxurious tomb. She lit a cigarette outside, holding it between her fingers, occasionally taking a puff. White smoke rose slowly, blurring her dark eyebrows and bright red lips.

Emily came out just in time to see this scene.

It was hard to imagine that this sexy creature in front of her was only eighteen years old. Emily took a deep breath, suppressing a fleeting flash of jealousy, and walked over, whispering, "Let's go…"

Lola looked at her expression, unable to suppress her curiosity. "What's wrong with you, anyway?"

Sometimes, when sadness is suppressed for too long, even the slightest inquiry can be overwhelming. Emily's eyes turned red, and she threw herself into Lola's arms, sobbing, "I-I'm ruined… My life is over!"

Ten minutes later, Lola understood the whole story.

Emily was born into an ordinary family, but her spending far exceeded what a normal family could bear. However, she didn't know where the money had gone or what it had been spent on. This was something Lola could relate to—she often wondered why money seemed to slip through her fingers so quickly.

The year Emily spent the most, her father happened to be unemployed and stayed home watching TV all day. One day, out of boredom, he went through her clothes and found a long receipt in her pocket. He nearly fainted from anger. Emily was kicked out of the house as a result. Although her father eventually took her back, she never dared to tell her family about her real expenses again.

She knew spending recklessly was wrong but couldn't control her ever-growing desire to shop. The TV, the streets—everywhere she looked, there were colorful shopping ads. More and more wealthy girls came to the restaurant, and many of her colleagues were involved with rich men. By day, they were young, beautiful waitresses; by night, they would don sequin dresses, grab their handbags, and stroll down the streets arm in arm with wealthy men.

After spending so much time in that environment, she gradually lost her sense of right and wrong—so many people were doing it that even if it was wrong, she felt she wouldn't be alone in her wrongdoing. So, she got involved with a rich man. She didn't aspire to be his mistress; she just wanted to fill the financial hole at home and ease the burden on her unemployed father.

That was her initial intention, but after getting involved with a rich man, her shopping desires only grew. Now, she not only had to compete with the girls at the restaurant but also with the other women around the rich man. Unknowingly, her debts piled up higher and higher. A few days ago, a threatening phone call was even made to her home. Fortunately, she answered it herself; otherwise, she wouldn't know how to explain it to her father.

In such a desperate situation, the rich man she was involved with suddenly disappeared. With no other choice, she found out where Mrs. Harris lived and hoped to find a new rich man to get through this crisis. If she hadn't met Lola that day, and if she had been assaulted by those hooligans, she most likely would have chosen to end her life.

After hearing Emily's story, Lola wasn't particularly moved—she had heard too many tales of sugar daddies disappearing and call girls being left helpless. It was hard to feel anything anymore.

She secretly wondered, if one day she found herself in Emily's situation, would she also go looking for a rich man to get through the tough times?

After thinking with her small, narrow-minded brain for a moment, she came to a conclusion: she'd deal with it when the time came! It was, after all, a backup plan.

Lola didn't expect to need that backup plan so soon.

When she heard Emily's story, she only thought Emily was foolish—how could she keep competing with others when she knew she didn't have the money? But when Lola actually started working, she realized it was impossible not to compare herself to others.

The girls around her all wore expensive French-brand lipsticks, which made it impossible for her to pull out her cheap plastic-cased lipstick. Their curls were shiny and bouncy, clearly the result of frequent visits to high-end salons.

Lola constantly rolled her eyes in secret, thinking these girls were enjoying services far beyond their means. But when it came time for her to make a choice, her true desire was to become one of them.

She despised their excessive indulgence, yet couldn't help but want to get closer to that dazzling, glamorous world. Perhaps Emily had fallen into the same trap for similar reasons.

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