After accompanying Elizabeth to review, I took her to print out the information for the store manager and took the subway back, and I thought of Jefferson again on the noisy subway, and I once asked him if I couldn't find a boy I liked before graduating from college, or I would be with him at once. He said I was reluctant to do it.

When I got out of the subway, I was a little sleepy, and there was an old man playing erhu at the top of the stairs, and I casually threw all the remaining coins on the black linen cloth in front of him. Before me, there was only a ten-dollar sheet on the square linen cloth and a purple Hong Kong dollar.

Ever since I threw away my phone in London, I haven't had any backups and I've lost contact with everyone, and the only number I remember is Alice's.

I remembered the laptop that I had left out in the cold, and I ran home to board MSN immediately after work in the evening. But Jefferson's avatar was gray, and no wonder he was still at the party. I can imagine what it was like to be a bustling scene: champagne, light and shadow, live string music, and hipster, high-profile people standing together to discuss the wedding reception.

"Hua, long time no see, how are you doing?"

I clicked on a person's profile picture and saw such a text message, and then I moved my gaze up, and the name next to the avatar showed Sha Ye.

"Everything is fine."

It took a long time for me to send it to him.

Maybe it's because of the jet lag, but Sano didn't reply to me.

MSN was gray, and before going offline, I typed a line in the dialog box with Jefferson: "Good luck, happy marriage." Chinese.

But I quickly deleted the line, it was so self-inflicted, I didn't even know what bad things I was doing.

Isn't it? He didn't tell me about his marriage, why did I bless him like that.

I rudely threw the computer cover aside and ignored it all night.

I couldn't fall asleep tossing and turning, and my Chinese stomach moved around in the middle of the night, and I was almost insomnia. So before the Nth heavy snow fell in New York after the New Year, I walked around the Chinatown of Queens alone, and after my feet hurt and my legs were sore, I finally stepped into a shop owned by a Sichuan man and ate a bowl of hot and sour noodles.

"Do you want more vinegar?"

"Huh?" I'm in a trance. Over the years, I have become accustomed to communicating with people in English to avoid the emotional burden of Chinese, and now I am moved to tears when I hear Chinese that I have not seen for a long time.

"A little." I spoke in jerky Chinese, and I was used to inserting a sentence in English, "A little"

The hostess also gave me a small plate of cucumbers in sauce, and I felt that the taste was nothing more than that. The steaming sweet potato flour and coriander are much warmer after half a bowl. Hot and sour noodles are placed in front of me, which is no different from the domestic ones, and I have never felt that my hometown is a concern, a destination haunted by dreams, but I also sour my nose and miss the old dreams of the old childhood days.

I feel that my youth is bitter, like weeds growing in front of the grave, like a bowl of hot and sour noodles mixed with coriander.

"Little girl, are you here for a tour?"

The hostess sat at the table next to me and asked me with boiling water.

I looked around and made sure I was the only one in the store, then shook my head and said, "No, I live here." ”

"Where are you from?"

"London, I'm from London."

"And what kind of profession do you have?"

She suddenly got a little excited, opened her eyes and asked me, under the incandescent light, I saw her face seriously, thin eyebrows, slightly fat, and wearing an apron.

"I... I'm reading here. ”

I lied to her.

"Oh." She was a little lost, as if she hadn't gotten the answers she wanted.

The TV in the store was playing international news, and I was not interested, I just wanted to finish it quickly, and even the questions she asked later were perfunctory and I fled in a hurry.

It was only when I left the store that I found that it was snowing again in New York. London in winter is very similar to New York, but what about Paris, it must be cold too, right?

After returning home, I accidentally opened the calendar on my phone, only to know that tomorrow is the Chinese New Year. Last year, I didn't like the Chinese New Year, which made me want to decorate it at home. For the first time in a foreign country, I realized how much I loved the festival.

I watched TV reports to know that there were many activities in Chinatown in Lower New York on the day of the Chinese New Year, and Chinese people gathered together to celebrate the Spring Festival, and I also wanted to go, but I was afraid that the lively atmosphere would make me cry, so I had to go to the supermarket to buy some dumpling wrappers and spend a simple Spring Festival at home.

The nearby supermarket is not far from the apartment, 20 minutes by foot. As I walked back from the supermarket with a bag of ingredients on my own, I felt like I was the right choice not to go to Chinatown. Occasionally, I would pass through a few young people with the same yellow skin as me, and even though I didn't know them, I wanted to avoid them, and I couldn't imagine how out of place I would be in front of so many people.

The life of disappearing into the crowd has given me a lot more opportunities to be quiet, to get along with my own heart, and to socialize less.

The cold wind blew on my face, and the hair on both sides was blown up often to block the view, and I had to always touch the hair, and finally I couldn't stand it anymore, so I tied my hair up neatly and cleanly.

I looked at the dark red buildings in the residential neighborhood of Queens, the branches of the trees on the side of the road still bare, and the fallen leaves on my feet, wondering when spring would come. I don't know which family is playing the piano, the sound floats above the road, the familiar melody, the melancholy music.

My memories also traveled back in time with the music.

I remember.

That's Alan Tam's song.

"Wordless love, I don't dare to say it, say that I want to be with you. If it is true or false, if it is possible, you can play yourself. I am fascinated, and I hope you know how to cherish yourself, one day even if you are separated, I miss you, I really miss you. ”

I don't have a kitchen at home, so I started making dumplings in Brooks's kitchen, and he wanted to help me, but he never knew what dumplings were, so he could only do it, pour water for me, and then watch me busy from afar.

I don't eat dumplings in Xiamen during the Chinese New Year, but dumplings are a good food to commemorate my hometown for me in a foreign country. I spent a lot of time chopping up some celery and pork, and there are machine-ground meat in the supermarket, but the price is always higher, and I am reluctant to buy it.

Every time I wrap dumplings, they don't look good, like before, most of the dumpling skins are broken when they are cooked, and the soup enters the filling, and all the gravy comes out in the filling.

Frustrated by my failed work, I scooped a few of the best dumplings to Brooks, who had never eaten Chinese food and complimented me on the deliciousness of the dumplings I made, and I told him that if he had the opportunity to go to China, he would definitely try our food.

I took Brooks to watch the broadcast of the Spring Festival Gala, and I spent the 2013 Spring Festival with this American who had never been to China and didn't know much about China.