Chapter 1 Beautiful Shop Keeper

• The midday breeze blew gently, caressing my weary face after trudging through the city since stepping off the train. The scorching heat stung my skin, sweat pouring down and soaking the tattered shirt I wore. My legs felt heavy, each step like dragging an invisible weight. Yet I kept walking, even without a clear direction.
• Honestly, I didn’t know my own purpose. My initial plan was simple: find work in the capital, leaving behind the remote village where I was raised. Fresh out of high school, I had little to my name, just an old backpack, a few clothes, and a burning resolve to succeed that was now flickering under the blazing sun.
• In the village, everyone said I had a bright future, but here, I felt like dust swept away by the city’s wind. Thirst finally halted my steps. By the roadside, a small stall with a simple tin roof stood quietly, like an oasis in a concrete desert.
• I approached, my eyes immediately drawn to the figure behind a wooden table cluttered with stacks of cigarettes, candies, and other goods.
• A woman stood there, busy arranging items with swift, almost dance-like hand movements. But as I got closer, I realized she was far from the typical “ma’am”. She was beautiful, too beautiful to be just a stall keeper. Her long black hair was tied back loosely, a few strands softly framing her flawless face. Her large, sharp eyes gleamed. Her skin was fair, contrasting with the simple housedress she wore. Her figure was slender, but there were subtle curves the thin fabric couldn’t hide.
• I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling small in her presence like a village boy lost in an unfamiliar world.
• I opened the cooler in the corner of the stall and grabbed a bottle of mineral water, its chill instantly soothing my hot palm. “Ma’am, I’ll take one mineral water,” I said, my voice trembling slightly with nerves.
• I still called her “Ma’am,” though I now doubted the term suited her. “Five thousand, sir,” she replied curtly, her voice soft yet firm, glancing at me briefly before returning to her goods.
• A faint smile curved her lips, making my heart race. There was something in that smile, friendly, but as if concealing something deeper.
• I nodded, pulling a crumpled bill from the pocket of my fraying pants. “Mind if I rest here for a bit, Ma’am?” I said, dropping onto the wooden bench beside the stall. The bench creaked softly under my weight, but I was too exhausted to care. My legs felt like cracked wood, and my mind was filled with images of the village, green rice fields, the sound of roosters crowing, and my mother’s face urging me not to give up.
• “Take your time, sir. Feel free,” she replied warmly, then resumed arranging her items. Her movements were graceful despite their simplicity, as if she was never in a hurry, as if time in this stall moved more slowly.
• I opened the bottle and sipped the cold water slowly, feeling its refreshing flow down my parched throat. My eyes wandered, taking in the small stall. The wooden table was scratched, and the sign above it faded, but there was an odd warmth to this place, like a home I’d stumbled upon by chance.
• As I glanced at her, I accidentally caught her gaze. I had to stop calling her “Ma’am” in my head, she was too captivating for that. Her eyes studied me with a look I couldn’t quite decipher, curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper. I quickly turned away, pretending to focus on closing my bottle, but my heart pounded faster.
• From the corner of my eye, I could sense she was still watching me. I felt uneasy, but for some reason, I didn’t want to leave. Suddenly, she stepped closer. Her footsteps were light, barely audible on the stall’s floor, and before I knew it, she was sitting on the wooden bench across from me. A faint scent of soap mixed with sweat reached my nose.
• Her long housedress shifted slightly as she sat, revealing smooth, fair calves that made my eyes lose focus. I quickly looked away, my face heating up.
• “Where are you from, and where are you headed, sir?” she asked, her voice soft but brimming with curiosity, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made me restless.
• I took a deep breath before answering, trying to calm myself. “I’m from the village, Ma’am. Honestly, I don’t have a clear destination here.” My voice sounded smaller than I intended, like a lost child.
• “Oh, you’re wondering, huh?” She nodded slightly as if she’d expected it, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of her dress, a small movement I found hard to look away from.
• “Yeah, Ma’am,” I replied briefly, still awkward. I didn’t know what else to say. She was too friendly, too open for a stranger like me.
• She smiled, then shook her head gently. “Don’t call me Ma’am, just call me Elin.” Her tone was casual, but there was a warmth in it that made it impossible to refuse.
• I nodded, offering a faint smile in response. Elin. The name suited her, simple yet elegant, like her.
• “If you don’t have a destination yet, why don’t you stay at my place?” she said suddenly, so casually it didn’t seem like a big offer, but her eyes held a look that made me hesitate.
• I froze, my mind racing. On one hand, I was relieved to have an offer of a place to stay, something I desperately needed. On the other, I felt uneasy. I didn’t know her, and wild thoughts began to creep in. A woman this beautiful, at her age, surely she had a husband, right? So why was she so friendly to me, a stranger who’d just stopped by her stall? And what was harder to ignore was that Elin had an allure that was difficult to dismiss.
• As she sat, her long dress shifted again, revealing those smooth, fair calves that seemed to tease me. I quickly looked away, my face growing hotter. “Sorry, Ma’am, uh, Elin,” I stammered, “I wouldn’t feel right staying with you.”
• “Why not?” Elin looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow, her smile widening as if challenging me. “Besides, I live alone in my place. Or how about this: for now, until you find a job here, I’ll take you in as my little brother. Help me out at the stall. What do you say?”
• I fell silent again. Her offer made sense. I needed a place to stay, and I wasn’t expecting a salary from her, just a place to crash would be more than enough. But a strange feeling stirred in my chest. She was too kind, too quick to be familiar. I was afraid of getting caught in a situation I didn’t understand.
• My mind drifted to the grim stories I’d heard about big cities, strangers getting trapped by kindness that turned out to be a facade. But on the other hand, I had no other options. My legs could barely carry me further, and night was approaching fast. “Thank you, Elin,” I said finally, my voice hesitant, “but I think I’ll look for my own place.”
• Elin let out a small laugh, her voice crisp like a tiny bell swaying in the breeze. “Where are you going to find a place to rent, huh? This city isn’t as easy as you think, sir.”
• I smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck, sticky with sweat. “I don’t know yet. Do you know any rentals around here, Elin?”
• “There is one,” she answered quickly, her eyes sparkling like a child who’d found a new toy. “Right next to my place. Come on, I’ll take you to see it.”
• “No, no need, Elin,” I declined hastily, “besides, you’re watching the stall.”
• “It’s fine,” she said lightly, “I usually close around this time anyway.”
• I looked at her suspiciously. Really? Or was she just making it up? Without waiting for my response, Elin began tidying up her goods, packing items into a small wooden box with movements too graceful for the simple stall. Cigarettes, candies, and a few bottles of drinks were neatly arranged as if she performed this little ritual every day.
• “Aren’t you going to help me?” she asked, glancing at me with a playful tone that made me feel bad about refusing.
• Reluctantly, I stood and helped her. Our hands nearly brushed as we moved items, and each time it happened, I quickly pulled mine back, afraid she’d misunderstand, or more afraid that I would. Once we finished, Elin locked the small stall with an old, slightly rusty padlock, its creak loud in the quiet afternoon. “Come on, follow me,” she said, walking off, her long dress fluttering softly in the breeze, briefly revealing her smooth, fair calves again.
• I shook my head at myself, trying to focus. I followed her from behind, keeping a few steps’ distance. But Elin slowed her pace until I was walking beside her.
• She led me into a narrow alley where the faint smell of garbage stung my nose. The path twisted and turned, making my head spin slightly. The alley walls were covered in graffiti and moss as if holding stories they didn’t want to tell.
• I began to wonder if I’d made a foolish decision following a stranger like this. But Elin walked confidently, as if the alley was her own backyard, and somehow, that calmed me a little.
• The alley eventually opened into a residential complex far from what I’d imagined. The houses here were large and tidy, with well-kept yards and sturdy iron gates. Shiny cars were parked in front of garages, and the faint sound of children playing echoed in the distance. I felt even more out of place, like a fish washed ashore.
• Finally, we stopped in front of a two-story house. Its iron gate was tall, the yard spacious, and a glossy red car was parked inside, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. I stood frozen, unable to believe it. “Elin, where’s the rental?” I asked, my voice nearly trembling with confusion.
• Elin turned to me, her smile mysterious, sending a chill down my spine. “My house has plenty of rooms. You can rent one here.”
• I stared at her, my mouth open but no words coming out. This was her house? The keeper of that tiny stall owned a house this big? My mind was in chaos. I started to feel scared like something was deeply wrong with all of this. As I was about to step back and leave, Elin suddenly grabbed my hand gently but firmly, her cool fingers against my hot skin.
• “Come in,” she said, her tone leaving no room for refusal. Reluctantly, I followed her, my legs feeling like they were walking on clouds, whether from exhaustion or the fear creeping in.
• “Elin, you have a house this nice, why run a small stall?” I asked, my curiosity overpowering my fear, at least for the moment.
• She laughed lightly, her voice like an unfamiliar melody. She opened the front door. “It’s just to cure boredom. I like chatting with people at the stall. Living in this house alone does get tedious.”
• I stepped inside, and my eyes widened. The living room was spacious, with a large L-shaped sofa that looked plush, a giant flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and decor that screamed luxury. Small crystal chandeliers sparkled on the ceiling, and a thick carpet made my steps feel like floating.
• My mind spiraled further. Running a stall just to cure boredom? Owning a house like this? What was Elin’s real job? Or was she hiding something?
• “Oh, by the way, what’s your name?” she asked suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. She stood near a small table in the corner, her hand touching a photo frame I didn’t get a good look at.
• “I’m Jericho,” I answered, still dazed by my surroundings, trying to process everything I was seeing.
• “Then I’ll call you Riko,” she said cheerfully, her eyes twinkling like a child’s.
• “But people usually call me Jeri,” I protested softly, feeling the need to hold onto some piece of my identity in this increasingly bewildering situation.
• Elin chuckled, her laugh crisp. “Jeri? Sounds like a mouse’s name. I’ll stick with Riko, it’s cooler.”
• I just nodded, too drained to argue.
• “Sit down, Riko. I’ll get you something to drink,” she said, walking off to the kitchen, her hips swaying gently. Her long dress shifted slightly again, revealing those smooth, fair calves, and I quickly looked away, taking a deep breath to calm myself.
• I sank into the sofa, my body sinking into its almost too-comfortable softness. But my mind couldn’t rest. What did Elin want from me? A woman this beautiful, with a life full of mysteries, I felt like a mouse that had just wandered into a lion’s den.