Chapter 7: Hello, Utility Inspector

"...And that is how I tossed the bottle to my neighbor and had her call the police. The officers then disguised themselves as plumbers, entered the room, and apprehended the spy."

On the tram, Stana was showing off to her friend how she had "outsmarted" a spy. She was in a wonderful mood today—not because she had performed a service for the British Empire, but because of the envious gazes of others.

"Stana, I truly cannot bear to leave your side..." Kylie said, leaning in closer to her involuntarily. "If I stay close, I can catch a bit of that wonderful scent... Good God, I can’t even remember what perfume smells like anymore."

Kylie leaned toward Stana’s neck once more, taking a deep, greedy breath, as if she wished to inhale every trace of the fragrance.

"Oh, darling, you only need to take a stroll through Grosvenor Square. Those Yanks would compete to gift you perfume—not just perfume, but stockings as well."

Grosvenor Square was the site of the American Embassy. Most of the office buildings surrounding the square were now occupied by Americans; not only was the U.S. military headquarters there, but various agencies of the U.S. State Department also operated nearby. Consequently, there were far more Americans in the square than British. Compared to the resource-deprived British, those Americans possessed such an abundance of supplies that it surpassed anything the local women could imagine. Many British women frequented the square, hoping to meet an American who could satisfy their material needs.

"Hmph, American perfume is just cheap, tawdry junk. Who would want that?" Kylie said, resting her head on her friend's shoulder. "Though, if it were stockings... that might be a different story."

Sniffing the perfume on her friend, Kylie asked, "Darling, tell me, did you trade your beauty to get this perfume?"

As she spoke, Kylie flirtatiously touched Stana’s thigh. The skin felt as smooth as butter, making one wonder if she were actually wearing stockings. In fact, that was exactly what people envied most—her skin was fair and delicate, almost entirely free of body hair.

"Of course not. This was a gift from a friend who traveled abroad."

Stana, naturally, would not admit that the perfume had come from the spy. In fact, she hadn't even told the police about it; what if they had confiscated it as evidence?

"I’m so envious of you."

The envy in her friend's tone brought a sense of satisfaction to the bottom of Stana's heart. Perhaps this was her last shred of pride. God is my witness, ever since her husband went missing, she had transformed from an upper-class lady into an ordinary woman on the street. Without her husband’s income, she could no longer maintain her lifestyle and was forced, like any common woman, to go out and work.

Thinking of the past, Stana’s mood suddenly dampened. Soon, the bus arrived at her stop, and after bidding farewell to her friend, Stana got off alone.

Back home, Stana went to the bathroom to wash up as usual. Just as she changed into her nightgown, she heard a knock at the door.

"Who could it be at this hour?"

Puzzled, Stana walked to the living room and asked, "Who is it?"

"It’s that woman, no mistake!" Li Yian whispered to himself, then called out in a low voice, "Ma'am, checking the water meter."

Checking the water meter?

Although she was suspicious, Stana opened the door. The moment it swung open, her eyes widened. She tried to close it, but the man outside blocked it with his arm.

"You, you..."

"Hello there, ma'am. We meet again!" Li Yian said with a smile, his arm propped against the doorframe. "What’s the matter? Won't you invite me in for a visit?"

"You, you weren't taken by the police..." Suddenly, as if realizing something, Stana gasped, "You’re not a spy?" If he were a spy, he could never have been released so quickly.

"What do you think?"

Thinking of how she had mistaken him for a spy and called the police—and how the police seemed to have used quite a bit of force when they apprehended him—Stana’s cheeks burned, and her hand against the door lost its strength.

...

"Sir, would you like some coffee..." The atmosphere in the living room turned awkward. Neither of them spoke for a long while. Finally, Stana ventured, "Sir, I am truly sorry for the earlier misunderstanding, but, but... between us..."

Between us what? Stana didn't know how to continue; after all, she had indeed misjudged him.

"There is nothing between us," Li Yian said, taking the initiative. "I came here to help you."

"Help me?"

"Yes." Li Yian looked around the living room. Last time he was here, he had noticed the marks on the wall where paintings used to hang, and now, only a single sofa remained in the room. "It is clear that your current situation is not very good."

"During wartime, no one's situation is as good as it used to be," Stana replied.

"But your circumstances, ma'am, are far worse than they were."

Why had he come here? Because of that photograph. In it, her husband’s military insignia showed a crown and a star—the rank of a lieutenant colonel. A lieutenant colonel in the colonies—that was strictly upper-class. That was exactly why Li Yian was here. He needed this woman. Or rather, he needed a woman who could move in high society to help him earn his first bucket of gold.

Stana adjusted her nightgown and sat on the soft chair, crossing her legs with practiced elegance and revealing her slender, long legs. "What do you want to say?"

"You need money."

Stana couldn't help but laugh, and with her laughter, her nightgown rose and fell with the rhythmic swaying of her chest. Such a slender frame, yet so well-endowed!

"Who doesn't need money?"

She’s truly magnificent! After a moment of silent admiration, Li Yian took out the item he had prepared from his bag.

Instantly, her laughter ceased. Her eyes remained locked on the object on the small coffee table, a strange gleam flickering in them. Am I dreaming? Stana blinked, then looked at the man with a questioning gaze.

"What... what do you want from me?" She asked, her eyes still fixed on the item on the table—stockings! It was actually a pair of stockings! Good God! Was this man planning to use them to, to... should she accept or refuse?

It was so hard to refuse. Various thoughts raced through Stana’s mind as her eyes darted between the stockings and the man. The stockings were incredibly tempting, and the man was young and handsome... Ah, this man knew exactly what a woman could not resist.

Just as Stana was about to compromise, the man spoke.

"Yes, everyone needs money, but not everyone has the opportunity to earn it. Now, you have a chance."

"What chance?"

Stana’s eyes remained fixed on the stockings. As the man picked them up, demonstrating their sheer, translucent quality, a charming smile appeared on his face once again.

"Help me sell these to the people who need them—and who can afford them."