“Who’s he?”
“My nephew.”
“A nephew who’s only seven years younger than you?”
“He really is my nephew. He’s the son of one of my best friends. He didn’t get into college, so he came to stay with me for a bit. She asked me to help him find a job. He literally just arrived today. Come on, do you seriously think I’d mess around with him? Even if I were stupid, I wouldn’t keep him at home when I knew you were coming. Alright, alright, don’t be mad. Since you finally made time to see me, just lie down and let me take care of you.”
“And your nephew?”
“It’s fine. He’s just a kid. He won’t get what’s going on.”
…
Inside the room,
their voices drifted out in broken fragments.
I sat on the worn‑out sofa, stiff and uneasy.
My name is Jack Andrews.
The woman in that room is my so‑called “aunt,” Amelia Walker.
Aunt in name only—there’s no blood relation between us.
I dropped out of high school this year.My mom didn’t want me hanging around at home doing nothing, so she sent me over to stay with Amelia Walker, her closest friend. She told me to call her “Auntie,” even though we weren’t related. But I had barely stepped into Auntie Amelia’s place when a man in a black business jacket, maybe around forty, knocked on the door. He sized me up like he was checking inventory and asked who I was.
Before I could even figure out how to answer, Auntie Amelia came out and quickly led him into her room, saying she’d explain everything.
A moment later, the sounds coming from the room… definitely weren’t people talking. It was a man and a woman breathing hard, the kind of low, muffled noises that made my ears burn.
I’d never dated anyone, but I wasn’t clueless. Growing up in the countryside, some adults used to watch shady VCDs, and we kids were always told to stay away. The more they blocked us, the more curious we got. We’d stack ourselves up outside someone’s window to sneak a peek. On screen, a man and a woman with no clothes would cling to each other.
Back then, I had no idea what it meant. I didn’t understand why the guy had to lie on top of the woman, or why they’d press their mouths together. I just knew watching it made my heart thump like crazy, and even breathing felt harder.
It wasn’t until I got older that I realized—so that’s what “making love” was.
But honestly, I still don’t fully get why people do it. I just know men and women shouldn’t stay too close, especially not alone in the same room overnight, or things would always get… physical.
And that thought alone was enough to make me feel awkward to the point of wanting to disappear.Honestly, the whole thing just made my skin crawl. My heartbeat kept jumping for no reason, and whenever a woman got too close, that feeling only got worse. So rather than sit there listening to those sounds coming from the room—sounds that made me want to disappear—I slipped outside, shut the door behind me, and sat on the steps, trying to figure out what the hell my future was supposed to look like.
At the doorway, a black sedan sat quietly with the plate number Jiang A70001. A young guy had been smoking beside the driver’s seat. When he saw me walk out, he froze like he wasn’t sure what he was looking at.
“Uh… who are you? Why are you here?”
He strode over, eyes sharp as he gave me a once‑over.
I said, “This is my aunt’s place.”
“Your aunt?”
The second he heard that, his whole vibe changed. He relaxed, grinned, and pulled out a cigarette to offer me. “So you’re Amelia’s nephew. I thought you were some clueless dude trying to hit on my boss’s woman or something. My bad, my bad. Here, want one?”
I shook my head. “I don’t smoke.”
“Drink, then?”
“Don’t drink either.”
He let out a sigh. “Man, out in the real world, a guy who doesn’t smoke or drink is gonna have a rough time.”The young guy squatted down beside me, introduced himself as Mr. Walsh, and casually mentioned that the car he was driving was a Buick Regal. He said he was just the driver, and the man currently in the room with my aunt was his boss.
He didn’t tell me the boss’s name.
When I asked whether his boss was basically my “uncle,” Mr. Walsh gave me this weird look, then suddenly chuckled. He stood up, patted my shoulder, and said, “In a way, I guess you could call him that. But I’m not the one who should explain it. Ask your aunt. I’m heading back to the car.”
With that, he finished his cigarette and walked off.
Not long after, the door to the apartment opened. The middle‑aged man stepped out, smoothing down his collar. Even when he walked right past me, he didn’t spare me a glance. Only when he was about to get into the car did he stop and turn around.
“What’s your name?”
“Jack Andrews.”
“Mm.”
He nodded lightly, said nothing more, and got into the car before it drove away.
Instinctively, I felt he wasn’t the kind of person who was easy to deal with. Standing in front of him gave me the same pressure I used to feel when talking to the school principal—tight, uncomfortable, like I had to watch every move.
I headed back inside.A moment after stepping out of her room, Amelia Walker appeared in a floral short dress. At about 168 centimeters tall, her legs looked impossibly straight under the hem. Her face was delicate, soft like a perfect oval, and sweat still clung to her skin as she lifted her hands to tie up her hair.
When she spotted me coming back in, she casually asked, “You went out just now?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded, but my heartbeat kicked up. I quickly shifted my gaze away from her. The dress she had on was honestly a bit short, and when she raised her arms to fix her hair, that smooth, graceful silhouette of hers became impossible to ignore. Her legs looked even longer up close, pale and flawless.
Amelia noticed how awkwardly I looked away and clearly understood why I’d fled earlier. The corner of her mouth lifted, amused. Once she finished tying her hair, she walked over and sat on the sofa, crossing her legs with ease. Leaning back with her arms folded, she stared at me with a teasing spark in her eyes.
“So,” she asked, “ever had a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Not even back in school?”
“No.”
“Then you’re still a little virgin, huh.”
She said it with a light laugh, then added calmly, “Ivy Foster helped me out a lot back in the day. So taking you in isn’t a big deal. But listen, there’s one rule. Whatever you accidentally see here—just pretend you didn’t. Otherwise, you’ll be packing your things.”
“I get it.”
“And another thing,” she continued, “my place has only one bedroom and one living room. No spare rooms. You’ll have to sleep in the living room on a floor mat.”“This is totally fine.”
Jack Andrews quickly lifted his head and blurted it out. Back home, he’d been sleeping on a bamboo bed with bricks propped underneath—so really, anywhere was fine for him.
He had just arrived in Jinjiang with barely any money on him.
His plan was simple: crash at his aunt’s place for now, find a job, save some cash, and then move out when he could stand on his own feet.
After Amelia Walker listed a few things he needed to keep in mind, she couldn’t think of anything else to remind him about. She stood up, glanced at him, and said, “Wait here for a sec. I’ll go change, then take you out for dinner. I’ll introduce you to a job tomorrow.”
Jack nodded without thinking, then casually asked, “So… isn’t Uncle coming back for dinner?”
“Uncle? What uncle?”
Amelia paused, confused at first. Then she looked at his still-young face, and something seemed to click. The corner of her lips lifted in a faint, almost mocking smile as she murmured, “He’s not your uncle. Not even close.”
