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China doll from Guangzhou in Kuala Lumpur

China girlfriend in Kuala Lumpur

China girlfriend in Kuala Lumpur

‘You’re a liar!’ She manoeuvres to the other side of the bed and clicks the laptop’s mouse twice. ‘That’s your browsing history. Intermediate Mandarin Lessons! You’ve been logging into that site frequently. Why the sudden interest?’

‘Common, I was planning a vacation to China – you, me the kids.’

‘Don’t think I’m a fool.’ She takes out his cell phone from her pajama pocket and presses a button. An image of a long-haired girl, no older than in her late twenties, appears on the screen. ‘Who’s this? Half naked with a towel! What kind of girl would allow you to take such pictures?’

A loud snapping noise comes from the kitchen. A rat biting the bait of a trap triggers the hold-down bar, releasing the spring-loaded hammer arm. It swings down with a deadly force, breaking the neck of the rodent.

With one blunder after another, Jimmy Tong realizes he is dead meat. His chin quivers. ‘It—it—was just a short fling. She was just a hooker. She means nothing to me. She’s gone back.’

‘But that whore will be back, right?’ Lily stands up, stares down at Jimmy, her arms akimbo.

Six months tumble along. Anyone walking into the main prayer hall of the Thean Hou Temple will notice a man kneeling down at the altar, his hands neatly folded in his lap. He kneels straight with dignity before the Goddess of the Sea, though his clothes are soiled and his hair is disheveled. He is ruined financially, divorced and stays alone.

A string of expletives brings me back to the present, and my mental images enacting Jimmy’s past melts away.

My China girlfriend screwed up my life!’ Jimmy says. ‘I was so stupid to trust her.’ The wind blows his face, softening his features, and he takes a few deep breaths.

Jimmy and I are standing in the rock garden at the back of the Thean Hou Temple. He now comes here frequently to meditate. He blinks a couple of times and gazes blankly at the stone statue of Goddess Guan Yin carrying a water pitcher.

‘What might have happened if she hadn’t disappeared?’

‘I guess I’d have kept her as a short-term mistress.’

‘You know anyone else who was cheated by a China doll?’


Jimmy try escort in KL

Jimmy try escort in KL

He struggles to find the words. ‘My friend, Frankie Chan, the one who introduced Xiaoling to me. He got into far worse trouble than me – with another girl.’

Jimmy Tong begins his story of his buddy, and according to him, Frankie Chan’s predicament started after his regular tootsie returned to China for more than a year and came back.

The scene takes place in Frankie’s office.

‘Mr. Chan, a Miss Li is waiting to see you,’ a voice says over the intercom. ‘She doesn’t have an appointment.’

‘Huh? Miss Li?’ Frankie Chan pauses for a moment. ‘It’s alright, send her in.’ He straightens his necktie and leans forward on his desk.

‘Hello … qing ai de (darling),’ says the visitor, entering and closing the door behind. Two hoop rings hang from her ears. She is wearing a pair of slacks and a blue kimono top, and is cradling a sleeping baby in one arm.

Her words hit him like a battering ram, and he slumps back in his swivel chair.

The baby resembles him, with broad jowls, jug-handle ears and thick lips.

Chan stares into Miss Li’s dark brown eyes – so full of memories. In the twin lakes, he remembers her apartment in Old Kelang Road when he was her regular client for more than three months, her bed with silk sheets, her curvy body. Their sessions were lengthy and filled with passion.

‘This is your son,’ Miss Li says, smiling. ‘I’ve no money to raise him. Formula milk and nappies are expensive. You’ve to send me maintenance every month. I can’t afford to upkeep him. If you don’t, I’ve no choice but to leave him in an orphanage.’

‘Where’s the proof he’s my son?’

‘You can take him for a DNA test if you want.’ She produces a piece of paper from her pocket with one hand. ‘Here’s his birth certificate. Photocopy only. You’re registered as the father.’


Chinese escort in Kuala Lumpur

Chinese escort in Kuala Lumpur

How did she become pregnant? Frankie, a well-heeled businessman, recalls having seen needles sticking in a pincushion on top of her bathroom countertop on many occasions. Furthermore, she always went to the bathroom to get condoms. He realizes she has trapped him by using condoms punctured with needles. Frankie’s thoughts churn like a tornado yet a thrill tingles in his spine as images of a future young man, a likeness of him, flash through his mind. ‘How long will you be here?’ he asks.

‘Only two weeks. I’m staying at the Swiss Garden.’

Frankie turns away from her to hatch a plan and rubs his chin. A moment later, he says, ‘I’ll buy my son from you.’

Miss Li squares her shoulder. ‘Hao (okay).’

He looks into her eyes, as if bracing for his throat to be slashed. ‘How much?’

She tosses her hair back. ‘One hundred thousand yuan.’

A pause. ‘I’ll come to your hotel in a few days’ time.’ He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a few seconds. ‘I need to find a baby-sitter first.’

Charles Chow gathers contact numbers of freelance sex workers from his philandering buddies and supplies a list of names to me. I send text messages to them requesting for interviews, with assurances of confidentiality. A China doll, Zhao Mi, replies and I set up an appointment.

Stepping into her condominium in Pandan Perdana, I give her a plastic bag of apples and oranges. ‘Some fruits for you as a token of thanks.’

‘Xie xie.’ She takes the bag and places it on the kitchen table.

I sit in the living room and fish out my Philips GoGear MP4 Player from my trouser pocket. ‘Can I record what you tell me?’

Zhao Mi eyes the thingamajig for a moment but does not answer. She jabs a few buttons on a remote control. An air-conditioner projecting from the architrave of the balcony entryway starts to hum and cool air washes over me.


China girl from Guangzhou

China girl from Guangzhou

I place the recorder on the glass table and switch it on. She smoothens the plain skirt under her as she sinks down into a cushioned chair. ‘No, no recording, please. Just write notes.’ A whiff of citrus pervades the living room and, directly across us, ASTRO’s Mandarin radio channel is playing softly.

I put away the MP4 player and take out a memorandum pad. She leans her legs sideways and crosses them at the ankles. Her backless polka dot halter-neck reveals a svelte – but not thin – figure. A beam of golden light pouring in through the glass balcony door sets aglow the russet tints in her peroxide brown hair.

My posture is upright, knees closed and feet together, note pad on my lap. ‘Can you tell me your background? Where you’re from? How did you enter this profession?’

‘I’m from Guangzhou. I’m a Snake, twenty-three years old this year.’ Her voice sounds like a guzheng (Chinese plucked zither), and her eyes are small and dark-brown but are compensated by full lips.

Zhao Mi says that in 2010, she was an assembly-line worker in a remote-control toy factory, earning 1,200 yuan a month.

In her memory, while going to a bus-stand shelter, she sees a notice posted on the gate of an electronics factory. It says applicants are invited to attend open interviews. The next day, when she is walking out the factory after her interview, a woman in her thirties approaches her.

‘Ni hao, (How are you?),’ says the woman, strolling to her side. ‘Went for interview?’ Her eyes are big and black, her eyebrows thick.

‘Yes.’ Zhao looks left and right to cross the road, chocked with bicycles and motorcycles.

‘My name is Jiang. This factory used to be my workplace. I’m running a toy store now. I was waiting for a friend, but she called, said she needs to stay back.’ Carrying her rotund body on stout legs, she walks beside Zhao Mi.


China doll from Guangzhou in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia

China doll from Guangzhou in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia

China doll from Guangzhou in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia

China doll from Guangzhou in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia


Charles Chow gathers contact numbers of freelance sex workers from his philandering buddies and supplies a list of names to me. I send text messages to them requesting for interviews, with assurances of confidentiality. A China doll, Zhao Mi, replies and I set up an appointment.


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