These women, who had largely migrated from poor rural areas, regarded sex work as their best option given their circumstances. That said, they did not think it was a good job. They sometimes delicately inquired as to whether my financial situation was stable, offering to introduce me to a brothel or to their nice regulars if I needed some quick, substantial money. When I assured them I was not in need, thanks to my research funding, they all discouraged me from doing sex work.

The women often started, and continued, this work as a way to fulfill their moral obligation to support their families. Traditionally, Chinese daughters are often expected to make significant contributions to the household economy before marriage—much more so if their family is in need. The majority of female sex workers I met during my fieldwork were constantly pressured by their family members to provide continuous, significant financial support. These women frequently sent enough money home that loved ones could build a new house, buy material goods—such as a motorbike, furniture, or cellphones—meet their living costs, and put money toward their education. Married women did the same for their families and children left behind at home.

Sometimes when I was observing my research participants in “hair salons” or “massage parlors,” clients picked me for their attentions, and my “sisters” would tell them that I was “not doing massage” (bu an) and that they had to pick someone else. My appearance was very plain (jeans, black plastic glasses, a T-shirt, a pair of sneakers, and a backpack), which was a deliberate strategy on my part to signal that I was not a sex worker. Thinking it strange that some men would pick me, I asked my “sisters” about it, and one of them explained, “An apple has one taste, a banana has the other taste, and a pineapple has another taste. Many people like apples and bananas. Say you like apples and bananas—but you can’t just keep eating apples and bananas everyday! You need to change your taste once in a while. Let’s say you’re the pineapple.”

Another time, when I was traveling with some of the women as they visited their “sisters” in rural brothels, an owner and pimp from a neighboring “massage parlor” mistook me for a sex worker (because I was with sex workers) and followed me to the brothel (“hair salon”) where my “sisters” were playing cards. When he approached me, all my “sisters,” along with the madam, tried to throw the man out, saying I was not a sex worker. He did not believe us and touched my bare foot with his index finger, saying, “Come on!” Xia, a 23-year-old sex worker, quickly grabbed my feet and sat on them, yelling at him to go away. It was a surprising and touching moment for me, particularly because that woman was shy and refused to participate in my interviews.

In my ethnographic research, I noticed that the sex-trade sisterhood was temporary—because these women were highly mobile and the sex industry was unstable—but it was nonetheless strong and protective. It had boundaries, and membership required conformity to a strict set of moral obligations.

When they urgently needed a reasonable amount of money for food, an abortion, or apartment rent, “sisters” were expected to help. Yet the borrowed money needed to be promptly paid back. The women used the term “generous” (dafang) to describe “good sisters” and complained about “stingy” (xiaoqi) women. A good “sister” would not steal another’s men, especially generous clients or a serious boyfriend. Though the women sold sex, their community discouraged sex unless it was for a clear purpose: material gain or a meaningful relationship. For instance, the community tended to distance themselves from women who frequently enjoyed one-night stands for pleasure. There was also a strong obligation to lie to protect one another. When female sex workers’ partners became suspicious of the women’s work and pushed their “sisters” to tell them the truth, those “sisters” were required to find excuses and work hard to calm doubting partners.