In the eyes of casual tourists, Gran Via is just a bustling street in San Francisco's Chinatown. For overseas Chinese, it is a showcase to show their vitality. Guangdong.Although no rickshaws can be seen on the sidewalk, and the sound of clogs hitting the ground cannot be heard, this narrow and long place is the closest to their hometown.Chinese opera gardens, porridge shops, teahouses, newspapers, food, traditional Chinese medicine... The scenes presented can not help but make an exile wonder whether he is really standing on foreign land.However, in this familiar atmosphere, he still needs to face many completely unfamiliar difficulties and struggle to survive in these difficult environments.

Wang Qiyang, who comes from central China and speaks a Hunan dialect that neither northerners nor Cantonese can understand, is the kind of immigrant who cannot adapt to any place in the United States except San Francisco's Chinatown.The English he knows has only two words: "yes" and "no".But he rarely said "no", because when people spoke to him in English or Cantonese, he couldn't understand what the other party was saying, but in order not to arouse unnecessary disgust from others, he tried to say as little as possible.Therefore, he is not well-known in Chinatown, but his "yes" has indeed attracted the resentment of many people for him.Once he went to a Cantonese family for a banquet, and the host said modestly that the food was bland and not rich enough, so please forgive me.It was originally a polite sentence waiting for compliments from the guests, but Wang Qiyang, who couldn't understand Cantonese, nodded his head and said "yes" twice.

Even so, Wang Qiyang is still attached to Chinatown.He lives happily in a two-story Chinese-style house that he bought four years ago and is three streets away from Gran Via.The house is decorated with Chinese paintings and couplets, and the teak tables and chairs are expensive but uncomfortable to sit on.He even brought the two servants and a cook employed by the family from Hunan.The only thing in the family that is not "purely Chinese" is his two sons, Wang Da and Wang Shan, especially Wang Shan, who has learned a cowboy look in just four years and speaks like Spillane Like the characters in the movie, they are only thirteen years old and have almost forgotten their Chinese.

The eldest son, Wang Da, is not so rebellious.At the age of twenty-eight, he is silent and depressed all day long, and often feels awkward and embarrassed when he is with his father.Because Wang Qiyang is a very stubborn person, he is still reluctant to change his father's old habits and correct his father's mistakes.In the Wang's house, Wang Qiyang is the "monarch", his words are the law, the servants respectfully call him Lord Wang, work for him seven days a week, and receive ten dollars a month.Although his stern face, long beard, tall figure, loose blue satin robe, constant coughing, and irresistible demands and orders, will make anyone employed in the United States People feel very uncomfortable, but his servants are loyal and awed to him.The only person who doesn't buy it is Mrs Tan, his late wife's widowed sister.Mrs. Tan often comes to his house to give him advice. She thinks her 63-year-old brother-in-law is very old-fashioned and backward. "Alas, my brother-in-law," she used to say, "put your money in the bank quickly. Then go and buy a suit and put it on. In this country, you look as good in that satin gown as you do on stage. actor."

However, Mrs. Tan's advice just came in from Mr. Wang's left ear and out of his right ear.It's not that Master Wang doesn't trust banks, he just can't accept the idea of ​​depositing one's money in the hands of strangers.When he was in China, his money was always kept in the hands of his close friends, and they didn't even need to sign paperwork, and it was very safe.And twice a year, his friends always send him bonuses on time, and he doesn't even ask, and he has never made a mistake.He believed that the bank here might do the same, but everyone in the bank was a stranger after all.In his opinion, money is like a man's wife, how could it be handed over to a stranger to take care of him.

As for wearing a suit, that is even more impossible.He has always been wearing robes, silk in summer, satin in spring and autumn, and leather jacket or cotton robe in winter.It was unimaginable for him to change into a suit with only two or three buttons and an open collar.Besides, a rag tied around the neck seemed to him not only ugly and undignified, but what was worse, it represented a bad omen.He would never want to wear such a tie around his neck.New China once tried to abandon long robes and mandarin jackets in Hunan Province and replace them with Lenin suits.Wang Qiyang felt that Lenin suits were more formal than western suits, because they had more buttons and closed collars.Even so, he couldn't change into a Lenin suit, which is one of the reasons he came to the United States five years ago.No, he would never want to wear any other attire other than a robe.Not only will he end up in the robe, but he will be buried in the robe.He didn't feel like he was in the way of anyone in his robes, except his chattering sister-in-law.He often walks the Gran Via in his robes, and no one has ever noticed him.Even visiting out-of-town Americans regard him as a natural phenomenon on the Gran Via.

Mr. Wang likes to take a walk on Gran Via.Every other day after dinner, he would walk down Jackson Street, turn south on Grand Avenue, stroll six avenues to Bush Avenue, and walk back across Grand Avenue.He believes that beyond Bush Street is not Chinatown, but foreign territory.He stopped at the border of Chinatown for a while, browsing the brightly lit Chinatown, taking a look at the skyline with the silhouette of pagoda-style building roofs, the street lamps like lanterns, and the Chinese and English signboards flashing red, blue, yellow and green neon lights.He watched the steady stream of cars pour into the heart of Chinatown, then took a deep breath and started walking back.The street was full of joy and noise, but everything was calm, because no one seemed to be in a hurry.

He wandered the streets, studying every poster and advertisement written in Chinese.During the Spring Festival, he likes to look at the red and yellow couplets posted on the doors of every shop.If he finds that the words and sentences on the couplets are neatly aligned and the calligraphy is vigorous and powerful, he will put on a pedantic posture, shake his head and read it aloud two or three times rhythmically, and then give it a score.He scored all the couplets on Gran Via and took the ones with the highest marks to heart and wrote them out when he got home. He also admired the displays in shop windows—delicately carved furniture, copper and earthenware vessels, straw hats and bamboo baskets, small potted plants, lacquerware, silks, small china, jade, gold and lavender silk Tapestry... One of his favorite items was an eight-foot ivory sculpture with intricate carvings in a large gift shop off California Avenue.The owner of the shop tried his best to explain to him that it was a very rare ivory, which had been buried in the ice and snow of Siberia for centuries.The carvings show the story of the festivities in the palace, which took a total of twenty-five years to complete and sold for $15,000.

For three consecutive weeks, Mr. Wang would stop by the window to look at the ivory carving, thinking about whether to buy it home.Finally he made up his mind.Why should he buy it when he can look at the ivory on Gran Via as if he were at home?Besides, it would be selfish to remove it from the Gran Via and deprive others of the enjoyment of seeing it.He was happy with his decision; for four years he had probably enjoyed admiring the ivory as much as he had actually owned it himself. He didn't feel comfortable walking along the northern end of Gran Via, because there was a strong stench that made him sick.As he crossed Washington Avenue, he would take a detour to see a temple being built there, donate five dollars, and return to Gran Via.He rarely went to Kearney Street because he thought it was a Filipino area and he didn't want to go there at all.He always crossed Grand Avenue at the junction of Jackson Street and went home on Stoughton or Powell Street, avoiding the chicken and fish market on the north side of Grand Avenue.

When he got home, he always sat comfortably in his rattan chair, waiting for Liu Long, the deaf manservant, to bring him tea, hookahs and four Chinese newspapers.For various reasons, he subscribed to all the Chinese newspapers in Chinatown, and the main reason was to see if there was another political dispute among the editors.He has always maintained a high interest in the debate among editors; occasionally he will stand in line and write an anonymous letter to the editor he supports, praising his views and smooth writing.He always read the newspaper from page to page, including every advertisement.After he finished his tea, hookah and newspaper, he was ready to drink ginseng soup.At this time, the maid Liu Ma would bring in the ginseng soup, and then beat the master's back with her fists for five full minutes to calm his cough.Liu Ma is Liu Long's wife. She is stout and likes to talk. It can be said that she is the master Wang's inquirer.

"The cook has a visitor today," she said affirmatively in Hunan dialect. "That man looks like a liar. I don't know what they talked about, but they talked for a long time in the cook's bedroom." Master Wang didn't comment, but asked mutteringly, "Master Shan, did you study in his room tonight?" "Reviewed. I saw him reviewing his lessons with my own eyes." "Are you sure he went to school and not to the cinema?" "He came home tonight with a lot of books," Liu Ma said, "and went straight to the room to study after he came back." Master Wang muttered again and asked, "Is the young master back?" "Not yet." Liu Ma replied, then lowered her voice and said as if confiding a secret, "Master Wang, when I was tidying up the young master's room this morning, I found a picture of a woman in the drawer of his desk. A color photo, very expensive. There are some foreign characters on it that I don’t understand. This morning I said to Liu Long: “No wonder the young master is always coming home so late recently.’” Master Wang muttered and asked, "What does the woman in the photo look like?" "It's a foreign woman." Liu Ma emphasized. Master Wang tensed his face, "What? Is it true?" "She has silver-white hair, blue eyes, a big nose and is a foreigner." "Let the young master come to see me when he comes back." "Yes, sir," she said, thumping her back more vigorously. "Would you like to have a word with the cook too? I suspect his guest is a rascal. Perhaps the cook is looking for a new job, And that liar's client just happens to be helping him." "I don't want to talk to him." Master Wang said, "He can receive guests. Well, there is no need to beat him. You can go." After Liu Ma left, Wang Qiyang could only think about the foreign woman in Wang Da's drawer, but he didn't pay much attention to the chef, because he knew that the chef would not want to leave here.A year ago, this chef was lured by a Cantonese cook who earns US$300 a month, and went to help a restaurant for a monthly salary of US$200.But he came back two months later, unhappy with being just an assistant in the restaurant.He couldn't understand other people's dialect, so he was always bullied; besides, because the chef was fond of gambling and often borrowed money from him, even though he earned two hundred a month, he couldn't save any money.Now he deeply understands how happy it is to work in the kitchen of Wang's residence. Here he is the boss and he has the final say on everything.And I can save ten dollars a month from my fifteen-dollar salary, and have saved nearly four hundred dollars in the past three years.However, during the two months of earning 200 a month, he lost all his savings at the gambling table.With tears and snot in his nose, he begged Master Wang to let him come back.Wang Qiyang still remembered the chef's distressed look, and he was sure that he would not be so stupid as to dream of a spring and autumn dream of earning two hundred dollars a month. However, the foreign woman in Wang Da's drawer troubled him deeply.He waited for Wang Da to come back, but he couldn't wait.When the old clock on the marble mantelpiece struck twelve, he went to bed and tossed and turned under the wide square mosquito netting, unable to sleep.He brought the mosquito net from China, and he has slept peacefully in it for more than 20 years.Without this mosquito net, he would feel as if he was naked and uncomfortable.But this evening, he felt restless, as if a hundred mosquitoes were buzzing around in the tent.Is Wang Da now lying on a bed in a cheap hotel with that foreign woman?Thinking of this, he couldn't help shivering. The next morning, he got up as soon as the clock struck eight o'clock, and after drinking the ginseng soup, he asked about Wang Da's affairs.Liu Ma told him that the young master came back very late last night, and went out again early this morning.Master Wang breathed a sigh of relief, but he was still a little uneasy that the younger generation was no longer obedient.His son should at least have been ordered to wait to see him.He felt a little restless, dismissed Liu Ma, and took care of the bonsai beside his bed.This bonsai is built on a huge Jiangxi porcelain plate, and a beautiful emerald rockery rises out of the water.There are caves, avenues, bridges, paths, pagodas and a courtyard in the bonsai, and there are some small goldfish swimming in the water.He felt much better after feeding the fish and watering the moss and small trees on the rockery.Delicate beauty always relieved him from depression. Afterwards, he came to the big red lacquer table in front of the window and practiced calligraphy for an hour.He meticulously wrote famous poems and lines on the fine rice paper, his head shaking slightly with the movement of the brush.After finishing writing, he rewrote these verses in cursive script. His brush flew quickly and smoothly on the paper, but he was still not very satisfied with his cursive script.For practice, he wrote some folk sayings carelessly on the paper: "Sickness comes from the mouth, disaster comes from the mouth", "Don't waste time arguing with women", "A good dog doesn't bark, a wise man doesn't argue"... At this time, he suddenly remembered that today was Monday, the day he went to the Bank of America on Grand Avenue every week.He wasn't there to save money, but to change a hundred-dollar bill into smaller bills and coins.He put down his pen and ink, put on a black satin jacket over his robe, took out a brand new hundred-dollar bill from the locked iron cabinet in the back room, and went out. The cashier at the bank knew his purpose as soon as she saw him, smiled at him, and changed the banknotes for him without asking.He put away the small bills and the change-purse with a handkerchief, and hurried home with the anticipation of counting them.Counting money has almost become a hobby for him, and he enjoys it as much as he takes care of bonsai.When he had counted the total, he sorted the banknotes according to their denominations, how old they were, and put the newest ones in one pile, the newer ones in another pile, and the old ones in a third pile... His classification of coins More carefully, often patiently examining the coins under a magnifying glass to see which one is the newest.When spending money, he usually spent the old ones first, and then the newer ones; as for the new coins, he stored them in a beautifully carved sandalwood box, locked in a drawer of the desk.Sometimes, when he had nothing to do, he took out the sandalwood box and counted the glittering coins with relish, and when the luster of these coins began to fade, he spent them to make room for other new coins.He counted money for entertainment, and didn't stop until his servant Liu Long came to the bedroom to ask him to have lunch. After lunch, he took a short nap.Then I woke up with a sharp itch in my throat and coughed.He had had a cough for many years, and now he was even beginning to enjoy coughing as a pleasure.So, he lay on the bed and coughed lightly. About an hour later, he heard his sister-in-law calling for Liu Long. "Is the master not awake yet?" she cried. "Ok?" "I said, did the master wake up from his afternoon nap?" She shouted louder. "Oh," Liu Long replied after a while, "I don't know. I'll go and see." "Go wake him up, I have something important to tell him!" Wang Qiyang lay on the bed, waiting for Liu Long to come in and wake him up.The servant walked into the room lightly and lifted the mosquito net.Call him carefully, for fear of frightening him.Master Wang slowly opened his eyes, and mumbled, "What's the matter?" "Mrs. Tan is here." "Tell her to wait a while." He rarely called his sister-in-law into the bedroom where he usually received most of the other guests.He always received her in the big living room, where the teak chairs with straight backs often made the guests uncomfortable and lost the idea of ​​staying for a long time.Mrs. Tan kept persuading him to buy some sofas and soft chairs, and he kept agreeing, but he never bought them because he didn't like sofas and felt that sitting on a sofa was like sitting in the arms of a fat woman. He struggled to get out of bed and came to the living room with a hookah. Mrs. Tan was sitting on a high chair waiting for him, with a brightly colored parasol and a black handbag neatly placed on her lap.She was over fifty years old, but wearing a blue silk short-sleeved cheongsam made her look a few years younger.She doesn't use any makeup other than a bit of lipstick, and her hair is pulled back in a neat bun. "Brother-in-law, I have something very important to tell you." As soon as Wang Qiyang entered the room, she hurriedly said to him, while talking, she opened her handbag and took out a small English clipping. Wang Qiyang sat beside her, smoking his hookah, knowing that there would be nothing important. "This is a piece of news I clipped from a foreign newspaper." Mrs. Tan went on, waving the clipping. "I will read it to you first and then translate it for you. It is a warning to you." Zhao, to let you know that my advice about your money is correct." She cleared her throat, and struggled to read aloud with her inaccurate pronunciation. "Lin Feng, the manager of Shanpine Restaurant on Stoughton Street, told the police that a well-dressed man came to the restaurant, ordered a meal, and when it was time to check out, he slipped a note to Lin Feng next to the cash register: 'Pay Give me all the money. I have a gun.’ The Chinese manager looked blank and said to him in broken English: ‘I’m very sorry, I don’t understand.’ ‘Your money,’ said the gangster in the manager’s ear, Try to make him understand what he meant. "Your money! I have a gun, I have a gun!" But the manager still didn't understand: "I'm very sorry, I don't understand." The gangster walked towards the door dejectedly. Lin Feng shouted Said: "Sorry, please pay the bill!" The gangster paid eighty-five cents and left!" After she finished reading, she closed her lips tightly and looked at Master Wang meaningfully. "What does it talk about?" Master Wang asked. "A gangster robbed a Chinese restaurant on Stoughton Street," said Mrs. Tam. "The gangster had a gun; he almost shot Lin Feng, the owner of the restaurant. Fortunately, the boss only had eighty-five cents on him. The gangster took the eighty-five cents and ran away." She paused for emphasis, and then said, "My brother-in-law, I keep telling you to put your money in the bank. Don't wait until the day the gangster takes it. You regret it when a gun breaks in and takes all your stuff. This news is a good warning for you. I hope you consider my advice and do what I have told you over and over again do it." Master Wang snorted and smoked his hookah.He was just a little worried.No one knew that his money was locked in the iron cabinet in the secret room.If a robber broke into the house, he might give him all the money in the sandalwood box.He didn't want strangers in the bank to keep his money at all.Still, he muttered to his sister-in-law: "I will consider your suggestion, my wife and sister."