Wang Jia was one of the Sing Sing Girls living in Hebei province which at that time was run by the Zhili clique.
One day, the artist Zhang Dun came to see her. “Baobei,” he said, “you spend too much money. I can no longer afford to keep you here.”
Wang Jia would have no truck with Zhang Dun’s argument. “You make me laugh,” she said. “How can we afford to live when you are always away gambling with your friends?”
“It is no use,” said Zhang Dun, throwing up his arms. “I will go and talk to the Zhili clique. Perhaps they will give me another chance.”
Wang Jia scoffed sarcastically:
“With your book keeping skills, do you think they will listen to you?”
Sighing, Zhang Dun admitted he did not know what to do, but Wang Jia had a plan. “Send word to the Zhili clique”, she said. “There will be an auction of your masterpiece. You will tell them I will be there to sing and dance for them.”
On the day of the auction, the members of the Zhili clique came to the house of ill repute where they were invited to lie on hugging pillows and served Baijiu “vodka”.
When the guqín player struck up, Wang Jia entered the room in her cheongsam dress, dancing and singing around the captivated warlords.
The music stopped; stepping forward, Zhang Dun took up a pair of scissors and cut down the seam of Wang Jia’s cheongsam dress.
To the gasps of the Zhili clique, a bold red snake writhed on Wang Jia’s back.
So it was that Zhang Dun was able to pay his debts as each man spent the night with his masterpiece.
*
“What does Shona mean by his masterpiece’?”
“Come on, you know what a sing-sing girl is.”
“Well, if you say it like that, I can probably guess.”
“I suppose,” said Maude. “A painting is preferable to a tattoo…”
“Well, I think it’s very noble of her to help out her boyfriend like that.”
“Mabel, he’s her pimp.”
“Rubbish, he’s an artist.”
“Clearly in need of a patron.”