When Ming Ying got off the plane, it was exactly 3 PM Beijing time and 2 AM New York time.
Coming out of customs, Ming Ying was so tired his eyes could barely stay open, but his phone buzzed incessantly. He took it out and saw a call from his Mom and Dad across the ocean.
While following the signs to get his luggage, Ming Ying listened to his mom explain everything: which districts had homeless people, which areas had frequent gunfights, what new scams were popping up in New York…
“Okay, I know. I’ll be careful.”
“My roommate is picking me up. He’s British.”
“Don’t worry, I brought instant noodles. Won’t starve to death, haha.”
Deep in the night, Kennedy Airport wasn’t very crowded.
After walking for a bit, Ming Ying felt tired and simply plopped down onto his suitcase. “Haven’t I told you already? My advisor is Thomas, a German. Yes, that Tho-mas.”
“Geez, I’m here for grad school, not kindergarten. Why do you guys need my professor’s contact info…”
“Ah, it’s the middle of the night here. I can’t see anything.”
Just as his words trailed off, someone suddenly passed in front of him, bringing a breeze that carried a faint, elusive scent of men’s cologne.
As a straight man, Ming Ying couldn’t identify the brand of cologne, but he could tell it smelled high-class.
The next second, a pair of black leather shoes swept through his peripheral vision.
Ming Ying’s gaze involuntarily followed.
Following the upward line from the clearly expensive leather shoes, he saw a figure that was a sight for sore eyes in the monotonous airport—
That figure looked to be at least 1.9 meters tall, wearing a dark trench coat. He held a magazine in his left hand and casually gripped a cup of coffee upside down in his right. As he walked, his broad, straight shoulders were neatly wrapped by the trench coat, without any superfluous folds or creases. His posture was tall and straight, his temperament noble and distinguished.
Ming Ying had seen a ton of foreigners along his journey, to the point his eyes were blurry, but this man’s long-limbed, almost standard body proportions were rare even among Westerners blessed with naturally good frames.
Could he be some Hollywood star?! he thought.
Just as Ming Ying was very impolitely staring at the man’s back, a dozen more similarly suited-up foreigners passed by him one after another.
Ming Ying snapped back to his senses. Sensing something was off, he looked up and realized that, without knowing when, he had actually walked right outside the VIP ONE Lounge! No wonder he couldn’t see anyone else!
Ming Ying cursed inwardly.
Wrong way. Again.
He clearly saw the exit sign here just now.
On the other end of the line, Comrade Chen Qinqin started up again: “—Son, even though you’re going abroad to study and your studies are top priority, you can’t neglect important personal matters.”
“Oh yeah, your mom wants a foreign daughter-in-law,” Comrade Ming Jianguo chimed in from the side.
Pulling his suitcase along and lowering his head to rub his forehead, Ming Ying whispered, “There won’t be any foreign daughter-in-law. I’ll bring you back some foreign junk instead. Gotta go, I have to wait for my roommate to pick me up. I’m heading out of the airport now.”
After hanging up, he noticed WeChat had over a dozen red notification dots.
He tapped to see, it was from the “Single Aristocrats” childhood friends group.
Son No. 1: Big brainiac, let us see what New York looks like @Mingo
Son No. 2: You must be off the plane now, send us two photos @Mingo
The constant @ mentions in the tiny three-person group made Ming Ying laugh when he opened his phone.
So he stopped again, raised his phone, and pivoted around to film a tourist-style video of the airport surroundings.
But just as he was about to press the shutter, he made eye contact with the person framed inside his phone screen.
It was exactly that “Hollywood star” from before!
Ming Ying finally saw the man’s side profile.
It wasn’t the typical Western face he’d imagined. Although his facial contour was sharp and his proportions statue-like, Ming Ying felt his gaze carried a touch of casual indifference; it seemed like scrutiny, yet also like an unconscious glance passing over.
Just as Ming Ying was uncertain, the man inside the screen suddenly raised an eyebrow.
The statue came to life. Ming Ying thought.
“…”
Ming Ying snapped back to his senses and awkwardly lowered his phone. Whether he liked it or not, he was now in a “caught secretly photographing someone” scenario.
He could only flash a slight smile in that direction, bring his hands together, bow his head slightly in an apologetic “Sorry” gesture, then drag his suitcase and bolt.
Fortunately, Ming Ying’s luck was much better this time. Running and running, he finally found the airport exit.
Late night in New York brought a light drizzle, tapping rhythmically against the airport’s glass windows.
Approaching the main airport exit, it was indeed much more crowded. The air was filled with a mix of languages: English, Spanish, Arabic.
It was only then that Ming Ying felt, ah, he was really in New York.
Carrying his suitcase, he found a spot to sit. His British roommate had just messaged saying he was still on the way.
Beyond that, the childhood friends group chat was also still buzzing with red notification dots, all asking him where the photos were.
Ming Ying casually snapped two pictures, then began complaining about his experience of accidentally barging into the VIP passage earlier.
He was happily typing away at his keyboard when he suddenly heard someone beside him ask: “Hi, Chinese?”
Ming Ying’s fingertips paused.
The voice was clear and crisp.
He slowly looked up. A girl stood in front of him.
Blonde, blue-eyed, a crop top with a miniskirt, her makeup still perfectly flawless at two in the morning.
Ming Ying looked left, looked right, and finally pointed at himself: “Are you asking me?”
He couldn’t remember the last time he talked to a girl.
The girl laughed brightly: “Who else!”
Ming Ying let out an “Ah,” his phone still in his hand, not knowing whether to put it down or hold onto it.
He scratched his head, smiled, and said very politely: “You’re very beautiful. And your Chinese is excellent!”
“Thanks!” Accustomed to compliments, the girl smiled and leaned closer to Ming Ying, asking, “What’s your name?”
Ming Ying clearly wasn’t used to such a proactive approach. He caught her perfume when she leaned in—a warm, enchanting, and ambiguous scent.
It inexplicably made him think of the completely opposite, crisp scent of cologne he’d smelled earlier outside the VIP passage.
Ming Ying shook his head, inexplicably stammering as he said: “I, I’m sorry, I’m Ming Ying—”
The girl was amused: “Hahahaha, so cute!”
Ming Ying: “…”
Words like cute were usually how he described his dog, Little Bai.
The girl winked at him again, “So, Ming… can I have your phone number?”
“…”
Ming Ying was a bit dumbfounded.
This was his very first day in New York!
An undergrad from the Architecture and Civil Engineering departments, classmate Ming Ying had never seen this kind of scene before.
“Of course, you can.” Ming Ying nodded, then recited a string of numbers.
The girl even complimented his phone number: “What an easy-to-remember number, so convenient—Are you a student at N University?”
Ming Ying was startled.
The girl smiled and pointed at his suitcase: “There’s an N University sticker there. I don’t think I’m mistaken.”
Oh.
Ming Ying asked: “Are you also from N University?”
“Me?” The girl pointed to herself and laughed, “Sort of.”
Saying this, she looked down at her watch, said regretfully, “I have to board now. We’ll meet again. Good luck at N University.”
Ming Ying said goodbye to her. It was only after she’d walked completely out of sight that he suddenly remembered he hadn’t even asked her name…
Ming Ying felt a bit regretful.
It wasn’t until half an hour later, when his British roommate hugged him with a yell, that he came back to his senses.
Ming Ying patted the other man on the shoulder, “Mark, that’s enough!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, my dear friend.” Mark let go and said apologetically, “I was just too excited to see you.”
Mark was an atypical Brit. Putting aside whether he was a gentleman, he was certainly passionate and fiery.
After being online friends for over a month, they were finally meeting in person.
Ming Ying smiled, “I’m happy to see you too. Thank you for coming to pick me up so late.”
Mark pulled one of his suitcases for him, scrunching up his shoulders with an expression of mock-horror. “I’m the one who should thank you! Ming! I finally don’t have to stay alone in that lonely, desolate, perpetually haunted room anymore!”
Before coming to New York, Mark had often complained his apartment was haunted, so Ming Ying was used to it.
He patted his suitcase, “I brought you some Chinese culinary delights. Now you can be in a room with culinary delights.”
“Ohohoho.” Mark exaggeratedly said, “I declare you my sworn brother for life.”
Ming Ying burst out laughing.
The two headed out of the airport and got into the car. Mark then asked him with a mysterious air, “Ming, were you chatting up that hot girl back there?”
Before Ming Ying could even answer, Mark put on a ‘just as I thought’ expression.
Ming Ying: “…”
While driving, Mark offered sincere advice: “My dear Ming, as your sworn brother, I must warn you, in New York, girls like that are even more terrifying than poison.”
Ming Ying laughed, “Mark, I just want to make an extra friend.”
Mark replied, “Oh, God. See, you’ve already fallen.”
Ming Ying scratched his head, “Huh? No I haven’t.”
Mark was completely convinced, though. “Girls like her are the best at sweet-talking people’s hearts. Watch out, one day you’ll be sold off to some Devil by her!”
Just then, Ming Ying’s phone buzzed with a new notification.
