Blasphemy - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was all very dramatic, now that you thought about it.

You and Arlo met in Palma, Spain.

Back then, you were a fresh university graduate. Since it was your last summer break, you were not eager to throw yourself straight into work, so you kept wavering over whether to take a graduation trip.

Your older cousin had stayed in Spain for work after finishing both her undergraduate and master’s degrees there. She missed you badly and invited you to Barcelona again and again.

You were tempted.

You had first heard of the city back in middle school, and had been fascinated by it ever since. With its pleasant climate and gorgeous scenery, Barcelona was the brightest pearl on the Iberian Peninsula.

“The brave get to enjoy the world first.”

The line suddenly surfaced in your mind, and almost immediately, you made your plans for Spain.

With your cousin’s help, you easily sorted out your hotel, plane tickets, and insurance, and successfully applied for a family visit visa to Spain. The whole process went so smoothly it was almost unbelievable. Even after the plane landed, you still felt as if none of it were real.

Your cousin took you around for a thoroughly satisfying half month.

Because she kept reminding you, you did a good job protecting your belongings in Barcelona and Madrid. But after the two of you parted ways, you arrived in Palma alone, and within ten minutes of walking down the street, you were robbed clean.

In the single second when someone tapped your shoulder and you instinctively turned your head, your phone and wallet vanished without a trace, and even your suitcase was yanked away by a hand that reached out from behind you.

You had not been on guard at all.

You stood there blankly in the street. All you had left on you was your passport in the inner layer of your jacket, and a flimsy twenty euros.

Once it sank in, you were so angry you almost laughed.

So you really did laugh out loud.

At this very moment, the best option in front of you seemed to be taking your passport to the embassy for help and going straight back home.

But there were still more than two months left on your visa.

You really could not stand the thought of going back like this. After thinking for a moment, you dug out the little slip of paper your cousin had tucked into your passport before you parted, pinched your last twenty euros in your hand, and marched into the convenience store by the road with the desperate resolve of someone burning her boats.

The level of English here was terrifyingly low. Fortunately, you were a strong, clever Huaguo woman. Nothing could defeat you.

Relying on your flexible body language skills, you still managed to make the call.

Leaves rustled overhead.

Bored, you stood by the road and nudged at nonexistent pebbles with the tip of your shoe.

Hehe. Now you truly had nothing to your name.

Warm sunlight spilled over your skin. Through the gaps between the buildings, you gazed out at the distant sea, blue and translucent as jelly, and your mood slowly improved.

Everything was not too terrible yet. At least the weather and scenery were not.

You remained stubbornly optimistic all by yourself.

Twenty minutes later, a low-key black sedan glided around the street corner and slowly stopped in front of you.

The car door opened, and a handsome young man stepped out.

He had short dark-brown hair with slightly curled ends, and pale-brown eyes touched with gold. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, he walked toward you with elegant composure. After stopping in front of you, he winked.

It was a deliberate gesture, but it was not annoying in the slightest.

Awkwardly, you shook his hand.

Your clumsy, helpless expression successfully made the person before you laugh.

The young gentleman extended his hand, keeping a distance that would not make you uncomfortable, and shook your hand with grace.

“Hola, señorita, mi nombre es Raymundo.”

It was the same voice from the phone earlier… but right now, he was speaking Spanish.

You looked completely bewildered.

Raymundo smiled even more happily. Thoughtfully, he opened the car door for you and made an inviting gesture.

In utter confusion, you got into the car.

And, still in utter confusion, you moved into a seaside villa.

It was not until two days later that you learned what his words had meant.

Even though he knew perfectly well that you did not understand Spanish, he had still introduced himself to you in Spanish.

“Hello, miss. My name is Raymundo.”