Hormones That Can't Be Hidden - Chapter 32

In the private room, the soft, warm yellow light enveloped everything. The fragrance of essential oils mingled with the faint perfume lingering on the women, creating a tipsy atmosphere that was simultaneously relaxing and nerve-wracking.

The true “scenario simulation” was just beginning.

Dong Junhao’s first “guest” was already lying generously across the massage bed.

Lin Wei adjusted the pillow towel, let out a comfortable sigh, and closed her eyes. However, her red lips parted slightly as she offered a reminder: “Brother Hao, right now I’m that difficult President Wang short-tempered, sharp-tongued, and obsessed with heavy pressure. If it’s too light, he thinks he’s being cheated. You’d better serve him carefully.”

Dong Junhao took a deep breath and sat on the low stool by the bed, his palms slightly damp with sweat from nerves.

He fought to cast aside all distracting thoughts, recalling the steps he had observed and studied over the past few days. He then gently placed his slightly warm hands onto Lin Wei’s exposed neck and shoulders.

The skin beneath his fingertips was warm and smooth, worlds away from the hard musculature of a man; it was a kind of softness imbued with vitality, its undulating curves faintly visible beneath the thin towel.

He had to summon every ounce of willpower to ignore this vivid gender difference and the close proximity of feminine fragrance and body heat.

“Number 88, right? The new guy? That Number 66 I had last time had much better technique than you. This pressure of yours is soft and weak did you not eat today?”

Lin Wei spoke abruptly, her voice intentionally lowered to mimic the gravelly, impatient tone of a middle-aged man. Her body tensed slightly to mirror a guest’s dissatisfaction.

Dong Junhao’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately increased the pressure from the heel of his palm.

“Ouch—!” The next second, Lin Wei instantly switched back to her original crisp, delicate voice with an exaggerated cry of pain, her brows furrowing. “Brother Hao! Are you trying to pinch me to death? Do you even know how to press? Lighter, lighter!”

She grumbled coquettishly, her body twisting in coordination with her complaint.

Dong Junhao’s hand jerked, and he reduced the pressure as if he had been burned. Fine sweat broke out on his forehead, and he became a bit frantic.

“Don’t just keep pressing there! I told you to go lower, so go lower! I paid money to enjoy myself, not to be at your beck and call!”

In this moment, she simulated the guest’s tyranny to perfection.

“S-sorry…”

“Pfft…” Seeing his distressed state, Lin Wei couldn’t help but laugh out loud. But she quickly snapped back into character, her voice becoming blurred and lazy, carrying a genuine sense of comfort.

“Mmm… here, yes, this acupoint. Use a bit of clever force, knead it out… yes, just like that… comfortable.”

She directed him, enjoying the relaxation brought by his professional technique.

In just a few short minutes, she shifted seamlessly between the “difficult male guest,” the “coquettish female voice,” and the “guest enjoying the service,” giving Dong Junhao his first taste of what it meant for a “guest’s emotions to change in an instant.”

As the simulation hit its stride, the challenge began to escalate.

Lin Wei suddenly frowned, saying that playing President Wang was boring and she was now switching identities to a high-level executive “Big Sister” named Sister Lin.

She placed her fingers hollowly above her chest, her tone carrying a mix of irritability and implication: “Tsk, these past few days I’ve felt a tightness in my chest, like my breathing isn’t smooth. Do you have any… special clearing techniques here?”

Her gaze swept with pointed meaning across Dong Junhao’s instantly stiffened fingers.

Dong Junhao’s brain buzzed, and his face flushed a deep red.

He knew this was “another kind of test.”

He forced himself to stare at the acupoints on her shoulders rather than the curves rising and falling with her breath. His voice was dry but he tried his best to remain steady as he answered:

“Ma’am, chest tightness can be related to cardiopulmonary circulation or emotional stress. We have some massage techniques targeting the Shanzhong point and the lung meridian which, combined with deep breathing, can help soothe the area.”

“If you require it, I can also recommend our professionally qualified physiotherapists for a further consultation.”

“Physiotherapists? Boring.”

Lin Wei curled her lip, becoming more immersed in the roleplay. She suddenly flipped over to a prone position and pointed her finger back toward her lumbosacral region. “Here, it’s uncomfortable here too. It gets sore and swollen from sitting too long. Just using hands won’t reach it, right?”

“I’ve seen places where the male technicians use their whole body weight, pressing down with their bodies. Now that gets the job done.”

She elongated her voice, carrying an ambiguous expectation. “Handsome, do you… know how to do that?”

The air seemed to thicken.

Dong Junhao could feel the shirt on his back becoming soaked with sweat.

His brain relied almost entirely on the “professional procedures” and “safety boundaries” that had been hammered into him over the past few days to respond mechanically:

“Ma’am, what you’re referring to might be techniques found in certain Thai massages or deep tissue massages. Regarding lumbosacral discomfort, we have a set of standard and safe pressing and stretching procedures that can effectively relieve muscle tension.”

“My body weight is too heavy; pressing down might inadvertently cause injury. Please rest assured, my hand strength has been trained and can satisfy the relaxation needs of this area.”

His answer was as rigid as a manual, but at the very least, he didn’t lose his composure and held the “professional” line.

Lin Wei blinked, then suddenly burst out laughing, her shoulders shaking. She sat up, her eyes gleaming with the light of a successful prank.

“Not bad, Brother Hao! Though your face is as red as a cooked shrimp, your words were airtight. You didn’t fall into the pit!”

“Remember this feeling. In the future, when you meet a guest who wants to ‘discuss technique’ with you like this, fend them off with this kind of neither-haughty-nor-humble attitude. You have to understand the subtext while using professionalism to hold them up, making it hard for them to push things further.”

The other female technicians watching nearby laughed as well. Su Xiaoxiao covered her mouth: “Sister Wei, you’re making things too hard for Brother Hao!”

Song Qian crossed her arms and offered a calm critique: “The reaction was a passing grade, but the tone could be more natural. Don’t make it sound so much like reciting lines. You need to make the guest feel like you are sincerely considering their ‘safety’ and the ‘results,’ rather than just giving a blunt refusal.”

Next, it was Su Xiaoxiao’s turn.

She played a soft-spoken but subtly demanding female guest.

“Master, my shoulders are fine, but… lately I’ve felt a bit of a chill in my lower abdomen. I wonder if it’s a ‘cold womb’?”

Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were searching. “I’ve heard there are special essential oil massages that are very good for this… can you help me take a look?”

Dong Junhao faced a “minefield” once again.

He steadied his mind, his gaze politely avoiding the middle of her body as he focused on her eyes: “Ma’am, regarding gynecological discomfort, we strongly recommend you consult a professional physician for a diagnosis.”

“What we can provide here is a routine abdominal relaxation massage using mild, soothing essential oils to help relax tensed abdominal muscles and promote blood circulation. However, we cannot provide any claims involving specific therapeutic effects; this is also for the sake of your health.”

“Oh, I see…” The guest played by Su Xiaoxiao seemed a bit disappointed, but she didn’t persist. Instead, she said, “Then your technique must be a bit lighter; I’m afraid of pain.”

“Understood. Please rest assured, I will pay special attention to the pressure and your feedback.” Dong Junhao breathed a secret sigh of relief.

Song Qian’s simulation was even more direct and sharp.

She played a wealthy, vulgar male guest, with almost every sentence laced with innuendo. “Little brother, not bad skill! These arms look quite strong!”

She suddenly grabbed Dong Junhao’s forearm as he was massaging, stroking it up and down along the muscle line. “But what’s the point of just pressing the back? Help big brother loosen up the front too!”

Seeing that Dong Junhao didn’t seem to understand immediately, she simply pointed to her inner thigh. “Here! It’s numb from sitting too long! Give this area some special attention!”

Facing this kind of “in-your-face” offense, Dong Junhao had to use language to maneuver and also learn to skillfully use his body and positioning to maintain a safe distance without provoking the other party.

“Sir, we have standard service procedures here focused on relieving fatigue in the back and limbs. If you have special requirements, I’m afraid we cannot satisfy them here.”

Song Qian would strictly correct every minute flinch or stiffness: “Don’t drop your shoulders! Moving back is fine, but make it natural like you’re going to get essential oil. Don’t look like you’re dodging a plague!”

“Don’t let your eyes wander! You can look at the area under your hands, or you can look calmly into the guest’s eyes, but you must not evade!”

In this high-intensity “special training” a mix of real physical touch, ambiguous verbal provocation, and strict professional correction Dong Junhao was forced to desensitize and grow at an astonishing speed.

His initial shame, anger, and confusion were gradually replaced by a highly focused “war-time state.”

He began to function like a precision instrument, processing multiple streams of information simultaneously: the feedback from the muscles under his hands, the real needs versus the potential traps in the guest’s words, the control of his own posture and tone, and the mental backup plan ready to switch to standard response scripts at any moment.

The female technicians also found a different kind of pleasure and relaxation in this.

To them, this truly transcended ordinary work training. Being able to temporarily set aside the mask of pleasing guests and lie there enjoying the service of a handsome colleague who, though green, was absolutely earnest and focused was a luxury in itself.

They delighted in seeing Dong Junhao get flustered under their “difficulties,” and were also gratified by every small bit of progress and insight he gained.

“Brother Hao, tomorrow it should be my turn to ‘experience’ your new technique, right? I’m booking it now!”

“No way, we agreed that tomorrow I’d help him simulate dealing with a drunk guest!”

“You guys are having all the fun. I only regret that I had too many clients today to find the time; I haven’t gotten to experience it even once!”

The private room was often filled with their genuine, pleasant hums, teasing laughter, and low whispers of serious technical discussion.

The air was filled not only with the fragrance of essential oils but also with a rare, relaxed, and candid atmosphere of synergy even carrying a faint hint of tacit understanding from “creating and polishing” together.

Dong Junhao was immersed in it like a piece of rough pig iron thrown into a furnace with extremely complex temperature, pressure, and chemical components.

the erotic facade was the quenching agent; the strict pickiness was the heavy hammer; the professional instruction was the mold; and their occasionally revealed genuine vulnerability and mutual care were the imperceptible but vital tempering process.

He was forged repeatedly within it. His greenness, prejudice, and fragile self-esteem were stripped away bit by bit, replaced by a gradually forming prudence, alertness, and a deep-seated resilience hidden beneath a mild and polite exterior.

He knew clearly the cruel essence behind this beautiful scenery

This was Xu Jun’s final, most realistic polishing of him before he was completely buffed and pushed onto that stage where fame and desire intertwined.

Only when he could remain unmoved and respond appropriately before this group of most knowledgeable “examiners” would he perhaps have a tiny foothold when facing the unknown storms of the outside world.

The road ahead was still obscured by heavy velvet curtains and blurred incense, impossible to see clearly.

But the “tool” in his hand, which had just been sharpened, was already steeped in a complex fragrance and branded with the initial marks of the rules belonging to this world.

Every seemingly erotic touch and every ambiguous trial had now clearly transformed in his perception into “signals” that needed to be assessed and “levels” that needed to be crossed.

The taste was indescribable, but he no longer had a choice. He could only grip it tight and walk forward.