In July, San Francisco was bathed in brilliant sunshine, but beneath the sunlight, the Tenderloin District reeked of decay and rot, with makeshift cardboard shelters strewn along the disorderly streets.
Homeless people, beggars, and those resembling addicts were curled up or sprawled out, enjoying the free sunlight—one of the few things in America that was free and warm.
Gan Guohui had long grown accustomed to such sights, and noticing that Gan Guoyang seemed to pity a long-haired homeless person, he quickly pulled him away, saying, "Don't pity them, they have food and drink, they just don't have a place to live. You should pity us instead... Let's go, save your money for the bus."
Gan Guoyang wasn't actually feeling sorry for the long-haired homeless person, but had noticed that the man was wearing a green military jacket, adorned with several medals; he might have been a Vietnam War veteran, now reduced to living on the streets.
This was a stark contrast to the America Gan Guoyang had imagined and known, especially since this was San Francisco, one of the largest cities on the West Coast.
The two got on a bus and headed north to Chinatown. Gan Guoyang, puzzled, asked, "We have to go this far to play ball?"
Gan Guohui replied, "Other places are mostly filled with black guys, too dangerous. Like the day before yesterday, you don't want trouble again, right?"
Gan Guoyang "recalled" the incident from the day before yesterday, where they were simply passing by a basketball court when a ball flew over to them. As he went to pick the ball up and throw it back, a black man started yelling at him and quickly charged over, nearly causing him to be hit by a car just standing by the road.
After retrieving the ball, the black man continued cursing. Gan Guoyang remembered he wore a brown T-shirt full of holes, shorts, and a bandage wrapped around his left calf.
"I don't want to cause trouble, but what if trouble finds us? Yesterday, I think I heard someone coming to collect the rent, and they would take over the shop if we couldn't pay," said Gan Guoyang.
"Ha, the one who came for the rent yesterday was the landlord Chen Yaoming, the very friend's father I'm meeting today. If his dad doesn't let us live well, I'm going to squeeze something out of his son," replied Gan Guohui.
Gan Guohui led Gan Guoyang through streets and alleys to a nonprofit community center in Joyce Alley of Chinatown—Cameron House.
Downstairs at the center, a queue of people were waiting to receive emergency food supplies, including Chinese people, black people, white people, and Latinos.
San Francisco was a true melting pot of races, where one could find faces from a variety of ethnicities.
The two bypassed the long line and went up to the rooftop of the building. Gan Guoyang was dubious, wondering why they needed to go upstairs to play basketball.
Could the court really be on the roof?
The basketball court was indeed on the roof.
High chain-link fences surrounded the rooftop, and the basketball hoops were attached to steel frames on the fences.
Standing on the court, one could overlook the skyscrapers of San Francisco's Chinatown.
And the Blue Sky with a White Sun flag standing at the entrance of the Chinese Consolidated Benevolent Association in San Francisco.
Looking at the basketball court and the distant buildings and sky, Gan Guoyang felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he'd seen it somewhere before.
"Wow, is this your cousin who's over two meters tall? Hello, I'm Tiny-Chen, Chen Xing, the fastest hands of Chinatown. Fatty Hui, did you bring the stuff? If not, I won't let you play here," said an impressed voice.
Gan Guohui's friend, Chen Xing, was lean and had the appearance of a southerner, wearing a pair of aviator glasses, emitting a scholarly vibe.
Gan Guohui pulled out several black plastic cases from his shoulder bag, each adorned with colorful paintings, and handed them to Chen Xing, saying, "Here's Pong, Ghostbusters, Mechanical Tank, and the latest release, Yar's Revenge. This one's selling like hotcakes. Recently, it's been impossible to find, and I had to go through a lot of trouble to get it."
Chen Xing's eyes lit up as he took the cases, turning them over in his hands with evident affection, saying, "I...I need to inspect these, eh. Last time you tricked me with a fake cartridge, and I haven't settled that score with you."
Gan Guoyang inquired, "What are these?"
Gan Guohui whispered back, "Game cartridges, for the Atari 2600. I've stopped playing a long time ago, it's kid stuff, but this guy likes them..."
"How about it, no issues, right? Last time it was a mistake, I packed the wrong case. Four cartridges, 10 US dollars each, that's 40 dollars. I'll give you a deal, 35 US dollars," Gan Guohui said.
"Are you kidding me, 35 US dollars for four cartridges? You might as well be robbing me! 20 bucks! And I'm letting you play basketball here," retorted Chen Xing.
"This court isn't your property, if you won't let us play then forget it, we'll just leave!" replied Gan Guohui.
"Alright, alright, let's settle on 35 then. But I don't have that much cash on me, can I pay you all at once next time?" Chen Xing conceded.
"What? You mean next time? Money on deliver, goods on payment, you pay next time, I give you the cartridges next time," countered Gan Guohui.
"Fatty Hui, let's be reasonable, when did you become so heartless and cold-blooded?" Chen Xing pleaded.
Gan Guohui cursed inwardly, thinking that when it came to being heartless and cold-blooded, no one could outdo Chen Yaoming; the man knew how to turn on a dime.
"How about this, you play a couple of shots with my brother, 5 US dollars a shot. If you win enough, I'll give you these cartridges, how's that?" Gan Guohui suggested.
Chen Xing glanced at Gan Guoyang, standing tall by the side, and said, "Oh~ so you've brought some help today, huh? Your brother clearly looks like a pro. With his height, if I play against him, it'd be a death sentence. I'd be foolish~ But if it's with you, Fatty Hui, I might consider."
After hearing this, Gan Guoyang said, "I've never played basketball before, today is my first time."
Adding his support, Gan Guohui chimed in, "I can vouch for that, when he first arrived, I asked if he knew how to play, and he said no, it's really his first time."
Chen Xing shook his head, disbelieving, only willing to go one-on-one with Gan Guohui.
Having no other choice and seeing that the fish wasn't taking the bait, Gan Guohui had to take the court himself. After warming up, the two engaged in a game of one-on-one basketball on the rooftop.
Chen Xing was lean and Gan Guohui a bit overweight; even though he had the advantage in weight and strength, he was greatly lacking in agility.
When Chen Xing called himself "the fastest hands in Chinatown," it wasn't just an idle boast—his reflexes were lightning-fast, and his ability to steal the ball was strong, repeatedly snatching it from Gan Guohui's grasp.
When dribbling, he stayed low to the ground, moved swiftly, and his steps were light, easily bypassing Gan Guohui to make a successful layup.
In no time, he had scored 5:0 against Gan Guohui. Chen Xing laughed heartily and said, "Fatty Hui, each basket's five dollars, twenty-five dollars in total. At this rate, I could buy those game cartridges for just ten bucks."
"Oh my, Mother Gan Lin, when did your dribbling get so good? And you're so fast, what kind of drugs did you take?"
"Heh, I didn't waste my summer vacation. Fatty Hui, let's play a few more rounds. I shoot a few more baskets, and I can take those cartridges home for free."
Watching Chen Xing's arrogant demeanor, Gan Guohui's face was filled with indignation, but the boy had improved significantly. Clearly, he had been secretly practicing, and Gan Guohui wasn't his match for the time being.
Seeing this, Gan Guoyang said, "You've improved so much, how about going up against me, a newbie? I've never really played basketball before."
The tall Gan Guoyang had once caught the eye of the local sports bureau in high school and went for a tryout, only to discover his limbs were uncoordinated and he wasn't cut out to be an athlete, so he had to give up on basketball training.
The soul that had crossed over now was especially eager to find out whether the 2K11 modeling was perfectly replicated in this body.
If it was...
"Exactly, my cousin is just tall—that's it. He's been here for three weeks and I haven't seen him play at all. He's just out to have fun today. I think you're just the type who bullies the weak and fears the tough, only capable of picking on a fatty like me."
Gan Guohui fanned the flames from the sidelines, though he was actually a bit apprehensive.
He had been genuinely surprised when his cousin first arrived in San Francisco: a big tall guy with long limbs—ideal for basketball.
However, after spending time with him, he found that his cousin was dreary and timid, always seeming confused. His uncle mentioned that the boy had suffered a fall as a child and wasn't very alert.
A few days earlier, Gan Guohui had taken him to the Margaret Hayward Playground, hoping to awe others with his size. Instead, his cousin had been frightened by a black guy and came down with a fever.
Now that the fever had subsided, he seemed much changed, with a clear gaze, articulate speech, and most importantly, newfound courage.
Chen Xing, provoked by the taunting, and confident in his improved skills, declared spiritedly, "Fine! Let's play, I'm not scared. Just be careful, big guy, don't let me shake you to the ground."
As he spoke, he tossed the ball to Gan Guoyang.
Gan Guoyang caught the ball with one hand.
The texture of the ball felt familiar to him.
The basketball seemed much smaller in his large hands. Gan Guoyang tossed it in his hands a couple of times, eyed the hoop roughly seven or eight meters away—a significant distance.
Gan Guoyang tried a shot, his posture slightly stiff. The ball left his hands quickly, hit the backboard, and bounced back out.
Chen Xing chuckled while retrieving the ball, "Ha, as expected from a first-timer, you put too much force into it!"
Gan Guohui, seeing this, became a little anxious and approached, "Cousin, are you really unable to play, or are you just pretending?"
Gan Guoyang replied, "Of course it's real, why would I lie to you?"
"Hey, hey, hey! Are you two just playing for fun? It doesn't count for money, it doesn't count for money, it's unrelated to my game cartridges."
"Cut the crap, we just made a deal and you can't go back on it now. Come on, come and attack, stop the chit-chat."
Chen Xing threw the ball back to Gan Guoyang, who paused with the ball for a moment before suddenly dribbling and accelerating towards Chen Xing.
The instant Gan Guoyang charged, Chen Xing realized he had underestimated the chasm the difference in height and build had created.
One was two meters tall, the other one seventy-four; they were practically two different species.
Chen Xing's plan was to catch him off guard and snatch the ball from Gan Guoyang's hands.
Then, he would use his own speed and dribbling to get past the big guy—it would be perfect if he could make him stumble.
Another beautiful left-handed layup—that was the move he had recently learned.
But with his short arms and legs, he didn't stand a chance.
He was facing a raging beast charging at him with the force of a gust of wind.
The moment they made contact, Chen Xing felt as if he had lost his footing, uncontrollably falling backward until he landed on his butt.
A huge shadow soared above him, slamming the ball into the hoop with one hand, causing the steel rim and chain net to rattle loudly.
The sunlight from the rooftop blurred Chen Xing's vision, and a dark silhouette loomed over him against the backlighting, reaching out a hand to him.
"Sorry about that, did I hurt you?"