In the temple, they both bowed reverently before the Buddha. Though I held no belief in such matters, I found myself following their example, merely going through the motions. I thought to myself, if there is any truth to this, perhaps the Buddha might assist in settling my family's debts.

After offering her prayer before one of the statues, Sophie turned to me and, with a smile, said, "Ryan, why don't you give it a try? Perhaps the Buddha will watch over you."

I scratched my head awkwardly, offering a sheepish smile. "I'm not usually one to believe in these things, but since you suggest it, I suppose I'll give it a shot." With that, I mirrored their actions, hands pressed together, eyes closed, silently making my own prayer.

Auntie, observing this, smiled warmly. "Ryan, you're quite an interesting child."

I returned the smile, somewhat embarrassed. "Auntie, please don't tease me. I'm simply going along with the flow."

As we exited the temple, Auntie turned to Sophie and me and said, "Let's take a stroll. For lunch, as your mother, I'll treat you two to a meal." She then addressed me directly. "Next time we meet, I hope you'll call me ‘Mom,' not ‘Auntie.' I don't care if you marry her or not, I've already decided—you're my son-in-law."

"Auntie, I promise, I promise," I stammered, breaking into a cold sweat. What exactly had Sophie told her mother? Auntie's resolve seemed unshakable.

Sophie, looking at me, smiled knowingly, her lips curling into a teasing grin.

After finally seeing Auntie off at the airport, I let out a sigh of relief. There were so many questions I wanted to ask Sophie, but the words stuck in my throat.

Back at Sophie's apartment, I had just finished unpacking and was preparing to head to the hotel when she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of sarcasm and disdain. "What's this, Ryan? Is my humble little home no longer good enough for you? You're packing your things to leave already?"

I gave a nervous laugh, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "It's just that I thought it might be a bit inconvenient to stay here."

"Inconvenient? I'm the one who's at a disadvantage here, not you. What are you afraid of? Besides, you've already had your way with me, so what's with this act of purity?" Her tone carried a distinct note of mockery, but her gaze was tinged with a more complicated emotion.

Her words left me speechless, and I didn't dare respond. I simply sat down on the sofa and pulled out my phone, intending to check on the finances of Eldoria and inquire about my delayed salary. My fingers swiped across the screen, but my thoughts drifted elsewhere.

She lounged on the sofa and suddenly spoke, "Come here, give my legs a massage."

I glanced at her, rolling my eyes. "I'm not a masseuse, I won't get it right."

She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Don't you want your salary?"

My eyes lit up instantly. "Why hasn't my salary been paid yet?"

She chuckled softly, her voice leisurely, "Give me a massage, and I'll tell you why."

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

With a sigh of resignation, I sat beside her and began massaging her legs. Since I had no idea how to massage, I simply applied pressure at random.

"Ow! Can you be more gentle?" she complained, frowning, her voice laced with playful irritation.

Sophie seemed a bit flustered. "This isn't a massage; you're just groping my legs. Focus on this spot here."

Growing a little impatient, I couldn't help but ask, "Is it done yet?"

She gazed at me, her eyes half-lidded, her voice soft and delicate as a feather. "Ryan, do you think my legs are beautiful?"

Her legs were long, straight, and pale—truly a sight to behold. I marveled silently, yet responded with feigned indifference, "They're fine, I suppose."

Unconvinced, she raised her legs higher. "Fine, you say?"

I playfully swatted her leg, teasing, "They haven't been washed, there's a smell."

With swift movement, she pushed me back onto the couch, her gaze a blend of anger and mischief. "You've got some nerve, daring to say my feet smell."

Her face inched closer, and I could feel her breath on my skin. The air in the room grew heavy with an unmistakable tension. My heart pounded in my chest, and my breathing quickened, as if the world had frozen, leaving only the two of us.

However, in that moment, she suddenly released the collar of my shirt with a sigh and slid off me. Her expression hardened, a cool detachment overtaking her as she turned and walked into the bedroom, never to return.

I sat on the couch, a sense of emptiness and confusion washing over me. The brief moment of intimacy had left me flustered, and now it felt too awkward to address the matter of my salary. An oppressive silence filled the room, and my thoughts became tangled in a web of uncertainty.

Time passed, though I could not say how long, until she finally emerged. Her eyes were red, as if she had been crying. She threw a bundle of money at me, her voice hoarse as she said, "From now on, your salary will go through me. The finance department will give it to me, and I'll pass it on to you."

I was momentarily stunned, a wave of complex emotions surging within me. "Why?" I couldn't help but ask.

Her gaze flickered briefly, as though evading something. "I'll give it to you based on how you perform," she replied coldly, her voice resolute, as though deliberately keeping her distance.

I was left speechless, unable to respond, only able to watch her in silence. Seeing her eyes red from crying, I chose to remain quiet for now. I placed the money in my bag, though a heaviness weighed on my heart. Checking the time, it was already five o'clock. I tentatively asked, "Shall we eat at home tonight? Is there anything to cook?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly, her tone tinged with provocation. "You can cook now?"

"Of course!" I responded, though a tinge of uncertainty lingered, for my culinary skills were nothing to boast about.

Her lips curled into a slight smirk, a barely discernible mockery in her eyes. "Alright then, we'll eat at home, but there's nothing here."

"I'll go buy some," I said quickly, eager to alleviate the discomfort.

Her gaze softened, though her tone remained unchanged. "I want Mac and Cheese, Fried Chicken, Apple Pie, and…"

I hastily interrupted, "You don't need to order so much, we can make three dishes for the two of us."

She paused, clearly mulling it over, before reluctantly conceding. "Fine, but Mac and Cheese and Fried Chicken are non-negotiable. The rest is up to you."

I couldn't help but laugh wryly, a mix of exasperation and warmth swelling in my chest. "How do you eat so much meat and not gain weight?"

She let out a soft huff, her eyes gleaming with playful mockery. "A habit forged by someone's torment."

This woman always had to bring up the past, it was truly maddening. I sighed in resignation, deciding not to dwell on it, and turned to head out for the groceries.

An hour later, I returned home with a bag full of fresh vegetables. As I opened the door, I was greeted by the unexpected aroma of freshly cooked rice. "You're back!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with a triumphant smile. "I steamed the rice, waiting for you to come and cook."

A jolt ran through me as I silently wondered: Is this her way of getting back at me? Was she now making me do everything she once did? As I pondered, I walked into the kitchen, placed the vegetables on the counter, and began to prepare.

"When did you learn to cook?" she asked, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"I've always known," I replied casually, though my hands moved with practiced ease, washing and chopping the vegetables.