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墨書 Inktalez
On the morning of the twenty-first, with bloodshot eyes, I arrived at the hotel where Jack was staying, accompanied by Fatty. After a sleepless night and unable to come up with a reasonable excuse, I had to adapt on the fly. When I knocked on the door, Jack appeared in front of me, and I was taken aback. It wasn't just a surprise; it was almost blinding.
Jack was wearing a deep blue vest, with the buttons of his white shirt fastened all the way to the collar, and he had tied a silver-gray tie. His trousers matched the vest perfectly, with straight seams, and his shoes shone like mirrors. What was most infuriating was his clean-shaven face; while he wasn't as rugged as Brad Pitt, he exuded an elegance that was equally striking, radiating a sense of competence. He had completely shed the disheveled image from yesterday.
I found myself momentarily dazed. I couldn't help but think: Is he trying to seduce me? But then I quickly realized a more practical answer—his target was Xiao Ting.
Xiao Ting was indeed a captivating girl—innocent, sexy, and full of life. Given my relationship with Xiao Guolin, I felt embarrassed to express my admiration for her beauty. However, seeing Jack's impressive appearance today made those feelings dissipate instantly; the competition was fierce.
Fatty, bold and unrefined, understood Jack's outfit immediately and chuckled, "What you’re wearing is what we call 'feminine' in China. Chinese women don’t fancy effeminate men; they prefer real men. Do you understand? A real man is someone like me."
He then lifted one arm and shoved his armpit toward Jack's face. "Can you smell that? The scent of masculinity."
Jack stepped back, covering his nose. I nearly burst out laughing; it was utterly disgusting.
Jack's face turned red from the stench, and his voice sounded strange as he said, "Have you not showered? Are you trying to suffocate me?"
Fatty walked into the room with a mischievous grin, seemingly feeling that his impact on Jack wasn't enough. As he passed by the desk, he knocked over a neatly stacked pile of books, scattering them across the table. He then plopped down on the sofa and nodded approvingly. "Now this looks more like a man's room. You need to understand what Chinese women like; cater to their tastes, got it? Don’t use that American approach to woo Chinese girls—it won’t work. You need to show your personality; don’t just follow the crowd."
I stifled my laughter as I entered the room with Jack and stole a glance at him; his face had turned an ashen gray. I thought to myself that we were here to borrow money from him—why was he acting so crazy? If things went south with this foreigner, where would we get money from? I quickly shot Fatty a warning look and made a grimace to get him to tone it down.
Taking advantage of the moment, I surveyed the room. It was a suite, unlike a standard room; it had a separate living room, bedroom, and workspace. Of course, such accommodations came at a different price than standard rooms. This foreigner sure knew how to enjoy himself, I thought bitterly.
Fatty's antics clearly displeased Jack. As he tidied up the desk, Jack cast an unmistakably resistant glance at Fatty. I imagined he must be regretting spending so much money on such an annoying companion. My gaze shifted from the desk to the wastebasket below; inside were crumpled papers along with an empty cigarette case and a food packaging bag marked in Chinese. The living room was quite clean and carried a faint aroma of coffee.
In front of the right side of the desk, there was an L-shaped leather sofa. Fatty was sunk into the couch, his feet awkwardly propped up on the Glass Coffee Table in front of him, not together but slightly apart, a truly unrefined posture. I circled around from the other end and sat down next to Fatty. As I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, Fatty reached over and snatched it from my fingers, chuckling lightly before suddenly becoming serious and saying, "Thank you."
I shot Fatty a glare, signaling him to behave. Exhaling the smoke from my mouth, I turned to Jack. "You've been here for how long?" I paused, tapping a finger on the Glass Coffee Table.
I felt the sofa shake violently for a moment, and then Fatty's big eyes appeared in front of me. "What do you mean?"
Logically, Fatty's instincts shouldn't be this dull; it was all too obvious. This Foreigner had not come here by chance last night; it was premeditated. His acquaintance with Xiao Ting wasn't an isolated incident either. Just as I had predicted, the financial support I received from AE over the years had its purpose. Now everything was coming to light on the Pavement. While I was surprised, I also felt a sense of relief. It seemed like it was time for a showdown.
I didn't turn around but pushed Fatty back into the sofa with one hand while keeping my gaze fixed on Jack. Slowly, I said, "I think you have something to say to me."
Jack remained calm and nodded. "Yes, but I can only speak to you alone."
Fatty kicked the coffee table with a loud thud, sending the Glass Coffee Table sliding across the polished marble floor. "What do you mean? Why can it only be him? Does he need special qualifications?"
Jack glanced at Fatty disdainfully. "Paying you is for hiring you to do a job, not for asking questions. If you think it's unfair, you can withdraw, but you'll have to return the money." With that, Jack extended an open hand toward Fatty.
Fatty immediately froze, his mouth opening and closing without any retort. It was no surprise; having taken someone else's money, he couldn't possibly return it while still wanting to act tough—what a predicament! But judging by their expressions, it seemed that the money had already changed hands with Fatty. He moved quickly; aside from sleeping last night until now, we had been together constantly. When had he received that money? That wasn't important; what mattered was that I sensed something in Jack's words—what did he mean by saying that once you've taken your pay, you shouldn't ask too many questions? Wasn't that just silencing me about the payment issue?
I glanced at Fatty again; impulsiveness is a devil. Look at how you're making things awkward for yourself while cutting off my excuse to ask for money. Fatty struggled to find words but ultimately plopped back down onto the sofa.
Jack pointed towards another room's door and looked at me meaningfully; it was clear he wanted to speak privately inside. I nodded in agreement. First, I wanted to see what he would say; I felt AE had deceived me until now, and Jack wouldn't tell me the whole truth—at least not all at once. I hoped to discern what was real from his words and use that to judge their intentions.
Just as I turned to step away, there were three soft knocks on the door. Jack glanced back at me and shrugged with an expression of resignation. "That should be Sister Xiao Ting; shall we discuss this another day?"
Without waiting for my response, Jack had already walked towards the door. I shot him a glare—was this really how we were supposed to negotiate?
In that brief moment as we passed each other, I grabbed Jack's arm and lowered my voice to ask, "Why do we have to involve Xiao Ting in this operation?"
Jack turned to look at me, then glanced at Fatty behind me. Leaning closer, he said, "She knows more than she lets on." With that, he pulled his arm free and continued towards the door.
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