A razor-sharp satire of modern politics, The Minute Fee skewers bureaucracy, budget crises, and the ridiculous lengths governments might go to keep the books balanced—no matter the cost to common sense.
A razor-sharp satire of modern politics, The Minute Fee skewers bureaucracy, budget crises, and the ridiculous lengths governments might go to keep the books balanced—no matter the cost to common sense.
On a cold, mist-soaked night in Victorian London, the crimson lanterns of The Blossom glow like beacons in a city of shadows. Behind its silk-draped doors, Madam Lin presides over a house unlike any other — where Chinese courtesans weave dreams from music, poetry, and touch. In the opulent main salon, the women display their special skills: Mei’s guzheng melodies, Lin’s brush and ink, Hana’s herbal enchantments. For the wealthy and the lonely, this is a sanctuary where desires are dressed in silk and poured like fine tea. Tonight, new guests arrive, unaware that every glance, every word, and every sigh is part of a carefully crafted illusion. Here, nothing is left to chance… and everything comes with a price.