"You look handsome," Li Li blurted out when she saw Yan Feng.
I never knew it could be so straightforward.
"Haha, thank you. This beautiful lady must be..." Yan Feng revealed a sunny smile, lips parting to show his white teeth. His eyes lifted with a hint of eyeliner, and as I observed closely, he did indeed have a handsome face. When he wasn't smiling, he exuded a heroic and sharp aura, a unique blend of American openness and Chinese reserve. However, when he smiled, there was a surprising charm, not flashy but subtly floating above his heroic demeanor.
"I am Li Li, contestant Li Li."
"Hahaha, Li Li often participates in competitions abroad, so he has learned Western etiquette," Teacher Dan remarked with a slight surprise, looking at Teachers Chen and Zhou. The teachers chuckled together, diffusing the awkward atmosphere that can arise when Chinese people engage in such compliments. They started to move, and we followed them towards the concert hall. The three teachers walked at the front, Li Li and Yan Feng walked side by side, and I, along with the translator and another volunteer, walked at the back.
Upon reaching the concert hall, due to jet lag and the long journey, I felt a bit disoriented. While the volunteer was introducing the facilities of the hall, the practice hours, meal times, and the provided food, among other things, I found myself getting drowsy. When everyone had taken their seats in the concert hall, and Li Li began to try the piano, I quietly slipped from the first row to the third row, reclined in the seat, and fell asleep. I'm not sure how much time had passed when a hand was placed on my shoulder, and a voice said, "Wake up; it's time for lunch."
I opened my eyes, and it was Brother Yan Feng.
"Feeling tired, little brother? Teacher Dan asked me to take you back to the hotel to rest first."
"Yeah, yeah. Okay, thank you." I still felt drowsy as I slowly got up from the seat. I noticed that the front rows of the concert hall were now filled with people; it seemed the contestants were gradually arriving to acclimate to the venue.
On the stage were several long tables filled with raw vegetables—tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, and even raw cauliflower. There were also some meat sauces, stewed beef strips, a sticky red pot of sauce that I didn't recognize, large baked pancakes, and several small plates filled with bell peppers, finely chopped tomatoes and onions, red and white rice grains, along with a big bowl of yogurt. I looked at the teachers, including Li Li; everyone seemed unsure how to start. I was still hoping for pizza. Earlier this year, the first McDonald's opened in Chengdu. It was located on the second floor of Wangfujing in the city center. My mom took me to eat there, and from a distance, I saw the staircase connecting the second floor filled with people, forming a line that extended all the way to the street. My mom decided to take me to the Roland Western restaurant next door. It was my first time eating Western food, and my mom said it was to help me adapt to the diet for the upcoming competition in the Netherlands. I couldn't remember the other dishes, but I vividly recalled the pizza—it was delicious, like an open-faced bun. I thought coming to the United States would offer many opportunities to eat pizza, but I was disappointed.
"That's how you eat it." Yan Feng began to demonstrate for us. He first took a piece of the pancake and spread it out in his hand. Then, he used a spoon to scoop some meat sauce and chopped tomatoes and onions. "This is salsa sauce." Next, he added some cooked rice, a spoonful of yogurt, and finally, just one slice of bell pepper. "This is Pickled Jalapeño." He started rolling up the pancake and handed it to me. "Today, we're having Texan Mexican cuisine. This is a classic burrito, and there are also some crispy corn chips on the side. It tastes great when combined."
I handed the rolled-up pancake to Teacher Dan. "Teacher, you go first."
"No problem, you go ahead. It's simple, similar to Peking duck, haha."
"Yes, just like Peking duck," Yan Feng added, grabbing another pancake to roll up.
I took a bite, surprised to find it really delicious. The meat sauce was similar to the mixed sauce in Chengdu, and the pickled jalapeno gave it a hint of the flavor of pickled peppers. I added a few more jalapenos on my own.
"I'll take you to the hotel later," Yan Feng said. "Teacher Chen and Teacher Zhou share a room, Teacher Dan and the translator share another room, and I'll be with you. It works out well; you can rest in the afternoon without worrying about opening the door for others."
After a brief discussion between the translator and Teacher Dan, he agreed, saying, "Sure, thank you, Yan Feng."
After finishing the meal, I followed Yan Feng out of the concert hall. Stepping outside, the streets were bustling with traffic, and I was startled. I had never seen so many cars on the road. In 1990s Chengdu, bicycles were the most common sight on the roads, with the occasional car speeding by like a fleeting shadow. In contrast, the streets of this city had up to four lanes, and each lane was filled with roaring iron dragons that seemed to carry an angry presence. In that moment, I began to dislike this American city. The passing cars startled me, and I took a step back. In reality, there was still a flowerbed's distance between me and the car, but the roaring sound made my ears uncomfortable, as if it would trample on my face in the next second. A pair of hands grabbed me, although I wasn't actually falling.
"Watch out," Yan Feng exclaimed in English. Looking back now, I realize that whenever he got excited, he spoke in his native language. Conversely, every time he spoke English, I could sense the fluctuations in his emotions.
I grabbed onto his hand and steadied myself. His hand was even larger than mine, and at that moment, my teenage pride was hurt by this hand. I felt extreme embarrassment – I was a future pianist, so why could an ordinary person's hand be larger than mine? Upon reflection, I was only ten years old, and he was much older than me, so it was natural for his hands to be bigger. My hand brushed against his fingers, reaching the slightly hard and rough fingertips, feeling almost calloused.
"Brother, do you play the guitar?" I was curious; when it came to music, I always sought opportunities to connect with others.
"Ah, these calluses are from playing the violin. I also play the guitar," he seemed to notice my focus on his calloused fingers. "Be careful when walking; cars in the United States drive very fast."
"Okay, sure, thank you, Alex."
"No need to call me 'brother,' haha. Just call me Alex."
"Okay, Alex."
"What's your name? She She?" He struggled a bit with the "Xi" sound.
I felt a bit shy for some reason. Not many people called me 'She She'; it was a nickname my mom used, and Teacher Dan rarely called me that. However, Li Li, upon occasionally hearing my mom call me She She, liked to tease me.
"Ye Xi."
"Nice name," he looked at me and said, "Let's head back to the hotel. I feel like you must be tired." He squeezed my hand tightly and walked briskly ahead. I followed, keeping my head down. Fort Worth in January was still quite cold, but his hand was warm, causing my palms to start sweating, and a warm feeling spread in my heart. His steps were fast, and I found it a bit challenging to keep up. My heartbeat also quickened. "We're almost there," he said. As we passed by a pizza shop, I glanced back.
"Haven't you eaten enough?"
"That's not very polite to say."
"Sorry, my Chinese isn't very good." He seemed afraid of criticism, and his sunny expression turned serious.
"It's okay; my English is probably worse than your Chinese. Can you teach me English?" I said in a comforting tone.
"Sure, no problem," he patted my hair. "Do you want pizza? But this place is a chain, not very good."
"D-O, mino," I spelled out with some effort, combining spelling and pronunciation.
"Domino, it's a fast-food place, similar to McDonald's."
"I see. We just opened a new McDonald's near my home, but there's no Domino's."
"Ah, I see. How about we get one? I'll treat you, but you have to promise to play the piano for me," Yan Feng said, pulling me towards the pizza shop.
"Okay," I generally didn't agree to play for others. On one hand, I didn't like showcasing my piano skills, and on the other hand, I always considered playing the piano to be a very personal activity. Apart from competitions and formal performances with a sufficiently large audience, where I could convince myself that their attention wasn't entirely focused on me, allowing me to construct my own musical world, playing for a single individual was an entirely different matter. Except for Teacher Dan and my mother, who had separately heard me play, no one else had. This was a personal rule I had established at a very young age. However, this time, I spontaneously agreed.
"I've heard Li Li play; her technique is really impressive. But she says she thinks you play better, and I got curious. Maybe she was just joking," Yan Feng remarked.
"Sis Li is too modest; she started learning the piano much earlier than I did." That's what I actually believed, but out of politeness, I never competed with others. I thought it was a virtue not to use my own value system to judge the world. I often suppressed my inner pride and violence in this way.
"Two meat lovers," Yan Feng told the cashier.
"Meat lovers, haha. That name is really funny," I remarked.
"Your English is pretty good; you understand it well," Yan Feng complimented.
We walked back to the hotel with our pizzas, checked in, and I collapsed onto the bed in our room.
"Pizza isn't as good when it's cold, but it's okay. I'll have them heat it up later. You go ahead and sleep," Yan Feng said.
I drifted off to sleep peacefully. I had a strange dream where the hotel's double bed turned into a large bed, and Yan Feng lay next to me. He held my hand and gently stroked my hair with tenderness, quietly staying by my side, like an older brother, providing a comforting presence. It felt as if I were in the clouds or back in the dream from a few days ago. However, this time, I didn't wake up; I accepted this warmth, like returning to my mother's embrace. She gently placed me in the cradle close to my skin, and I peacefully fell asleep in the dream, purified in the rhythmic swaying.