Chương 47: This is for sale.

I wasn't looking at his hands, I was looking at his eyes.

Lin Zhou lowered his head, pretending not to hear. He inserted the wire into the keyhole, his fingertips brushing against the edge, and pushed the marbles up one by one.

With a click, the latch popped open.

The door opened a crack.

The woman straightened up from the doorframe. She slowly pulled the straps of her blouse back over her shoulders, her fingertips tracing a line across her collarbone.

Then he reached out and pushed open the door, glancing back at Lin Zhou.

"Come in. I'll go get the money."

She walked in barefoot, leaving two shallow footprints on the doormat.

Lin Zhou stood at the door.

Through the crack in the door, you could see the shoe cabinet in the entryway—on top were a pair of red high heels and a pair of slippers.

Next to the shoe cabinet was a coat rack with several coats and a scarf hanging on it.

Further inside was a corner of the living room, with the curtains drawn, making it dimly lit. The air was filled with a sweet, cloying perfume scent mixed with another smell he couldn't name.

It's not lavender, but some kind of sweeter, more artificial fragrance.

He took a step forward and crossed the threshold.

There is no door between the entryway and the living room; they are separated only by a beaded curtain.

The plastic beads reflect light under the lamp; they are pink and transparent.

He raised his hand to part the beaded curtain and walked into the living room, stepping on something soft and squishy.

He looked down and saw a black lace bra lying on the carpet.

Next to the bra was a thong, also black.

Looking further ahead, there was a leopard-print bodysuit and a pink plush handcuff draped over the sofa—not real handcuffs, but one of those sex toys, the plush edges a bit worn.

On the coffee table was an open cardboard box with the brand logo of the product printed on it. Next to the box were several empty packages of birth control pills, the aluminum foil torn open at the edges.

The live chat exploded instantly.

"Holy crap! Lingerie! Plush handcuffs! Birth control pills! The Three-Second King has fallen into a brothel this time!"

"What those two men were saying was this—'This one needs money too.' The locksmith went in, and now this one's in too. No, the last one wasn't a locksmith, he was a customer. They thought 'Three-Second King' was also a customer! They thought unlocking was a code!"

"Three-Second King! Run! This woman is no good! She wants you to unlock the door and then give you 'special services'—and then your wallet will be empty! The price she's offering isn't for unlocking, it's for 'that'!"

"His expression already showed regret. He should have left with Brother Zhou. Why did he take this job? Why did he come in? Now, looking at the furry handcuffs, he's thinking: I really don't need to open the lock on these things."

Lin Zhou stood in the middle of the living room, not sitting on the sofa. He took his tool bag off his shoulder and placed it at his feet.

With his hands in his down jacket pockets, his gaze swept from the box of birth control pills on the coffee table to the coin jar on the shoe cabinet.

The woman came out of the bedroom.

She changed her clothes.

It wasn't the semi-transparent cover-up and tank top shorts from before, but a black velvet mini-skirt with a very low neckline and the hem just past the top of her thighs.

She wore black stockings on her legs, her toes touching the carpet, and her bright red nail polish was faintly visible beneath the stockings.

She leaned against the bedroom door frame, one arm across her chest, supporting the elbow of her other hand, the fingertips of which held a slender cigarette.

She watched Lin Zhou standing amidst a row of sexy lingerie, his hands in his pockets, his expression as calm as when he was announcing prices at the door.

"Little master," She put the cigarette in her mouth, the flame of the lighter illuminating her chin.

The author, a group of swordsmen's fathers, personally recommends this story: "You're just a locksmith! What are you catching at the beginning?" on Cola Novels.

"Why are you standing? Sit down."

She tilted her chin towards the sofa.

Lin Zhou glanced at the sofa.

A leopard-print bodysuit and pink fluffy handcuffs were draped over the sofa, and an opened delivery box lay on the cushion.

He moved the delivery box to the side, sat down on the edge of the sofa, and placed his tool bag at his feet.

He sat very upright, just like he did yesterday in the passenger seat of Lao Zhou's car, with his back ramrod straight.

The woman walked over.

She wasn't wearing slippers; she walked barefoot on the carpet, each step slow and deliberate, her toes touching the ground first, then the soles of her feet.

She sat down next to Lin Zhou—not at the other end of the sofa, but right next to him.

Lin Zhou smelled a fragrance, not the sweet, artificial scent from the living room, but a stronger perfume that could be sprayed directly onto the skin.

The velvet skirt brushed against the cuffs of his blue down jacket, making a soft rustling sound.

"You're quite good at picking locks."

She took the cigarette out of her mouth and exhaled a puff of smoke.

The smell of smoke mixed with perfume wafted over, but Lin Zhou didn't turn his head.

"It opened in three seconds. I've never seen it open so fast before."

When she said "the first time," her tone rose slightly at the end.

Lin Zhou glanced at the box of birth control pills on the coffee table.

"Not bad."

He said.

The woman placed her hands on the back of the sofa.

"Master, how long have you been doing this? You don't look that old."

She leaned forward slightly, causing the neckline of her velvet dress to drop a bit.

Lin Zhou picked up an empty beer can from the coffee table and twirled it in his palm.

"Not long after."

"How long is 'not long'?"

"Less than a month."

"So impressive in less than a month?"

Her words were tinged with admiration, but there was something beneath that admiration.

Like a sponge cushioned beneath velvet. She placed the cigarette on the rim of the ashtray and turned to face him.

Her knees were bent on the sofa, and her stockings gleamed with a dull sheen under the light.

Her other hand slid down from the backrest, her fingertips lightly touching the strap of his tool bag.

"Besides unlocking locks, do you do any other repairs?"

coming.

The live chat exploded instantly.

"She said she was fixing something else! That's a double entendre! Was she referring to fixing locks, cars, or people?"

"Three-Second King must be using diaphragmatic breathing right now. He takes a deep breath every time this happens—he did the same thing last time when the proprietress at Crescent Moon asked him if his legs looked good."

Lin Zhou put the empty beer can back on the coffee table.

His movements were slow, exactly the same as yesterday when he dawdled while changing the lock cylinder in the hidden door of the crescent moon.

He said, "I also repair lock cylinders. Replacing a lock cylinder is more expensive than unlocking it; it costs 300 yuan to replace one."

The woman looked at him, a carefully crafted smile playing on her lips, but the languidness in her eyes was replaced by something else—confusion. Not feigned confusion, but genuine bewilderment.

She's probably seen many different kinds of men in those kinds of situations.

Some were lustful, some were shy, and some pretended to be serious but their eyes were practically popping out of their sockets.

But she had never seen this kind before. The young man, wearing a blue down jacket, sat on her sofa, with her in a black stockings and short skirt sitting close to his arm, and was still earnestly quoting the price of the lock cylinder.

I wasn't talking about the lock cylinder.

She leaned forward a little more, this time even closer. Her lips were almost touching the edge of his ear.

The breath brushed against his ear.

"What I mean is—besides unlocking locks, do you unlock anything else? When you unlock locks for single women, don't they ever ask you to unlock anything else they want?"