"What's your name?" She asked bravely.
"Shang Jinting." He paused and added, "Burning Jin, thundering Ting."
Rose recited silently in her heart: Shang, Jin, Ting. The three words were like three red-hot coals, falling on her eight-year-old life, leaving the first scar that could not be healed. The car drove across the sea-crossing bridge, and the wipers drew fan-shaped arcs. Shang Jinting suddenly spoke, his voice as soft as talking to himself:
"From now on, you call me uncle."
Rose nodded, but in the next second she heard his lower words——
"But don't expect me to love you."
