Rewind time, three days ago.

After selling the last painting in his hand, a slender woman stood in front of an ATM on the side of the street, checking the balance on her bank card.

Although the price of the sale is painfully low, at least this month's rent has finally been settled, and she doesn't have to worry about sleeping on the street - although, shortly after being discharged from the hospital, she quit her original high-end apartment and moved to the most ordinary two-bedroom apartment, sharing it with a girl who has just graduated from college and splitting the rent.

This kind of life is something I never imagined.

Lowering the baseball cap on her head, the woman retrieved her bank card, put it in her pocket, lowered her head, and walked back the same way in silence.

One question raced through her mind: she wanted to make money. It can be used for painting during the day, and at night it can be used for another job—as for sleep? No, it is a luxury that only the rich have the right and qualification to enjoy, and those who are so poor that they have difficulty even eating should sleep more before they die, and they should sleep forever after death!

Kicking away a stone that stood in the way, the woman's gaze followed the bouncing arc and inadvertently landed not far away.

On a black Polaroid board, hand-painted graffiti with colorful highlighters, the two most eye-catching words in the exaggerated art are: recruitment.

She looked up and saw that it was a bar, recruiting, and drinks were being promoted.

Because it was daytime, the door of the bar was locked, and it was pitch black, and there were almost no people in sight. But even then, she could easily recognize that it was a bar that had just changed hands and had been renovated by a new owner.

When she saw the word "style", she became more and more sure that this was the most extravagant and pompous bar in the famous Zhonghai City, and there was no one.

The woman squinted her eyes and stood not far away, looking carefully at the recruitment requirements above.

After reading them all, she couldn't help but chuckle, a pair of charming eyes curved like crescent moons, and her whole face was full of bright and moving.

Whether it's Jack Daniel's or Remy Martin, Chivas Reverde or Martell, Hennessy or Ballantine's, whether it's red or white, she can drink it, and she knows a thing or two.

Such a part-time job is simply tailor-made.

The only concern is, will it be recognized?

She frowned and thought for a few seconds, then her tightly knit brow stretched slightly, and a little smile surfaced again. Bar night market, flesh and lust are rampant, black and white have long been without boundaries, trance like a dream, who can care about a drink promotion running for a living.

Write down the time of the interview, eight o'clock that night. The woman turned around leisurely and whistled, this job, she was determined to get it.

When she opened the door and changed her shoes, she habitually shouted, but she habitually got no response - the girl who lived with her had just graduated and worked in the International Trade Center, and she had to go out to catch the subway at seven o'clock in the morning every day, and she would not arrive home until nine o'clock in the evening. So during the day, she is at home by herself, and she can concentrate on painting alone.

Actually, she is not a painter.

It's just that drawing is the closest skill to the profession she once did, and now it's her earning skill.

The only good thing is that, according to the manager of Dream Gallery, there is an owner who appreciates her work and buys three paintings in succession, which makes her almost overstretched finally able to breathe and survive.

Yes, in fact, every day she lives now cannot be called life, but survival. In a way that was never conceived, down into the dust, take a humble breath in this bustling city.

Undressed, she walked barefoot into the bathroom to take a shower. Living in an old-fashioned neighborhood with insufficient water pressure, it would be a nightmare to wait until the peak water season, such as showering between 6 and 10 p.m.

After taking a shower, she began to sit in front of the vanity mirror and put on her makeup seriously, and there were a large number of bottles and cans on the table, which were considered the most expensive possessions she had at present, which she had brought with her from her original residence. Thankfully, none of these skincare products and makeup have expired, allowing her to look as sweet as a ripe peach.

Before going out, she took out half a pack of cigarettes from the drawer, and after not touching it for a long time, the tobacco was a little damp, and she lit it several times before lighting it.

The colorful longevity of the fine branches is actually very light, and the faint smoke mixed with the soft taste burns out the fancy surface, leaving behind the same handful of gray-white soot, which is no different.

It's like her, without that layer of pride and envy of everyone, she is now just a retired little model, still running for a living. Floating Cloud Dog, no one remembers her face.

She has never been to "Style", not because it is not famous, on the contrary, it is precisely because she is too famous, but it does not meet her previous choice preferences.

It was not yet eight o'clock, and there were already more than a dozen young girls sitting or standing in the so-called interview room, all of course, all for the job of promoting drinks.

Everyone was playing with their phones or touching up their makeup in the mirror, and she was the only one standing quietly against the window, turning her head to look downstairs. The bassist of the band was standing on the stage auditioning, and from the side of his face, he was very handsome, which reminded her of an old friend.

Soon, a manager-like man pushed the door open and walked in, throwing a uniform on the table in the center of the room as he spoke.

"Try them one by one, keep what you can wear, and leave what you can't. ”

A group of young and beautiful women looked at each other for a long time before they all reflected and tore the black uniform like crazy.

It's said to be a uniform, but it's actually just a corset and a low-waisted miniskirt that exposes most of the hips.

The women's struggle was not elegant, mixed with a few curses and shrill shouts, the chagrin of those who didn't grab it, and the wails of being scratched by their slender nails.

A dozen people tried one by one, barely enough, two girls could hold up the corset, but the short skirts were a little strangled, and the others could barely put them on at all.

The milk should be big, and the waist should be thin.

The crowd began to curse, and began to change back into their clothes again and slammed the door away.

The woman who had been standing in front of the window waited until everyone else had finished trying it on, then she bent down and picked up the uniform that someone had thrown on the ground, and dusted it off.

Not caring about other people's eyes at all, she began to undress, not in a hurry, without deliberate cowardice or pretending to be bold, first with the outermost slim jacket, then with a base shirt, and then unbuttoned the belt on her jeans and took off her pants down.

Thin as white porcelain as if reflective skin, the two clusters on the chest are perfectly conical, two points of pink and red, like the tips of bamboo shoots dotted in the snow-white center, bee waist and hips, slender legs, anyone can see that this is a stunner in the world.

After putting on the corset, she put on her short skirt and easily zipped it up at the back of her waist as everyone held their breath.

Perfect fit.

In this way, she and two other girls stayed, in charge of Ballantine's, Chivas Regal and Royal Salute.

The manager just casually glanced at each of their ID cards and made a simple registration.

He hastily wrote two jumbled words on the paper, Ying Ning.