On Thursday afternoons, my mentor went to the advisory board meeting as usual, and I passed the time at my old location at Baddeley Coffee, which is in the corner behind the bookshelf on the right side of the bar.

I don't write this because I have good coffee or enough taste, but because this café with a very western name, but the owner is indeed a Chinese, and only the fish-flavored shredded pork fried rice here is the most authentic in Boston - not to mention that there are several Boston restaurants that can make fish-flavored shredded pork fried rice. This boss calls himself Lao Chen, claims that he is out of school, Wall Street has gone through a lot of fun, and now he is back next to his alma mater in the city to take over the café - I don't believe this story, because I really can't see where an Ivy League graduate mixed with Wall Street got such an authentic fried rice skill.

There were only three or five people in the whole café now, and sitting diagonally across from me was a Chinese girl, very well-dressed, and from the small objects on the table that I couldn't tell the sign, I knew that this was not something that we people could approach. Fortunately, I could see her in the back of the newsstand through the gap between the Boston Post and the Athletic, but she couldn't see me, and the only thing that was unappetizing was that the Athletic was facing me with a big black fat man, the big XX of Team Rocket, which discounted my good mood to look at beautiful women.

The beautiful woman didn't even notice that I was looking at her, she was reading a book carefully, and the yellow-black patches on the spine of the book appeared, and I knew that it was Weizman's "The Theory of Capital and Income" - a compulsory course for first-year students in macroeconomics. But what is curious is that on the table there is a small black box that girls like, with a small stack of cards inside, which looks like a postcard and a greeting card, and the distance is too far to confirm. The beautiful woman always reads the book for a while, and then, as if relaxing between classes, takes out a card in order and looks at it carefully. While looking at these cards, her face was rich and large

Mostly smiling, occasionally frowning. After a few minutes, she would continue her reading – this is clearly a woman with a lot of self-control.

Sometimes I have to say that music determines a person's taste. Judging from the music that Lao Chen listened to, his self-proclaimed Harvard graduation and mixed Wall Street are a bit mysterious. For example, now, what kind of Chinese annual TOP10 songs he plays - isn't it a bit too mysterious for you to put this thing in Harvard Square.

And the first song almost made me vomit - the music is not bad, the key is the lyrics - "The fool stole the beggar's purse, the blind man saw it, the dumb man yelled, the deaf man jumped" - what was written. However, I saw that the beautiful woman seemed to be pointed, and her posture suddenly became fixed. Does she like this style of music, that's really tasteful.

At this time, DJ's voice sounded: "TOP10 ranked first, the song of the famous music genius 402 - "Fool", please enjoy." "—Nima, where did you get your CD at this moment......

At this time, the music suddenly changed, and the rhythm and mood were excited: "Look at your eyes, sign the hand, prepare the promise, plan the future" At this time, I saw a magical scene, really.

I think I'll have a hard time forgetting this afternoon, in an old café in Boston's Harvard Square, with an inexplicable music, and a delicate girl in the astigmatism of the setting sun, going from silently weeping to crying. At her feet, a pile of cards with dates on them was scattered all over the ground.

(The work of the book friend Kutoutuo is very well written, and the writing makes me envious, jealous and hate.) ）