I was sent to a five-start hotel. That was my life, traveling from one hotel to another every night. In the hotel I found the right room and knocked. A man in white T-shirt and jeans opened the door and looked at me.
Wordlessly he gestured to me to follow him inside to the bed. He looked fifty-something. His head was shaved and his skin was pale. I sat beside him on the bed with my purse still hanging from my shoulder. Still not a word, but he stared at me closely. I felt nervous about the silence and turned my head toward the lamp on the side table. I thought, who is this guy, some kind of weirdo or monk?
After what seemed like five minutes longer, I finally looked back at him. Surprisely, he did not move even a muscle. I asked him if I should take a shower first. He only shrugged.
I stood up, put my purse on the table, entered the bathroom and closed the door. I took a deep breath, stepped into the shower, and my anxiousness flowed with the water down the drain. I rehearsed my usual rules: first, never ask anything about my client; second, just serve him well.
With a towel around my body, I stepped out. He lay on the bed eyeing the ceiling. I undressed him. I touched his member and squeezed it as it swelled, looking carefully for signs of venereal disease, them put a pre-lubricated condom on him. Removing my towel I lay back on the bed. There was no kissing or foreplay. Squatting between my legs, he thrust heavily from start to finish. The light was still on. I could see the sadness in his eyes when he came. Very quiet, no moaning. Then he rolled to the other side of the bed, eyeing the ceiling with a blank face again.
After a moment he took money from the drawer. I counted it–five thousand dollars, more than I had received from any customer before. I hurriedly put my clothes on and gave him my name card. But as I closed the door, I saw him throw it into a waste basket without even taking a look.
Something in the newspaper caught my attention the next afternoon: "Master-Mentor Ming Cheng of Shan Sui Temple died yesterday afternoon." His successor, the new master-mentor, was announced as Ming Jing. He, the person I had met last night, was hsown in the picture accompanying the news story, smiling radiantly at me.