Jason | Da Hai

In July, Da Hai opened a restaurant in a village by Black Dragon Creek. The road sees little traffic, so most customers are his friends. Though he hasn't been in Dali long, he has more friends than I do. He loves cooking for people. People like him not because he's sociable—he doesn't talk much—but because he's versatile, knowledgeable, and sincere. He has the most diverse skills of anyone I know.

For the restaurant, he cleared a large abandoned yard, planted grass, vegetables, and herbs, transplanted a big tree, designed the layout, did the electrical and plumbing, and built the tables himself. He did almost everything except hire a few helpers.

Most people meet him as a fully capable man. But I've known him since his early youth, over twenty years, and our lives have intertwined. I've seen his journey.

Twenty years ago, in 2004 on Changle Road in Shanghai, there was an outdoor gear shop called "Wildfire." I was moving a heavy old TV with Xiao Hua in the warehouse upstairs. We were exhausted, stuck on the narrow stairs. Then a young man came in, short but sturdy, and said, "Let me try." He hugged the TV and carried it up effortlessly. That was Da Hai. I've never forgotten that first impression.

He was 21 then; I was 28. He had come from Beijing construction sites to Shanghai, worked as a barber for a year, but hated selling membership cards. Passing by our shop while seeing off his girlfriend, he saw a hiring sign and got the job. I learned this years later. In 2001, China joined the WTO, and new industries were booming. Anyone could find a job.

Two years earlier, I and some outdoor club friends had opened this shop as a side business. Hiking, camping, and backpacking abroad were trendy. The internet was just starting, with BBS forums. Young people were forming interest groups to go to the mountains, Yunnan, Tibet, even abroad. Running a small shop was a dream for some.

When I met Da Hai, I had no formal job. I lived near Xiangyang South Road, helped at the shop, and spent time at Buna Café on Xinle Road. Before that, I had been a finance manager at an ad agency, but after a messy breakup, I took a four-month escape trip through Chengdu, Tibet, Nepal, and India. That year, Nepal waived visa fees for Chinese; the year before, China first issued passports for individual travel.

After returning, I had no direction. I thought of opening an online store to sell outdoor gear. Taobao had just launched; eBay was dominant. I needed help and thought of Da Hai. I asked Xiao Hua to let him work with me.

Da Hai had little computer experience, only gaming at internet cafes. He wasn't good at school; after junior high, he went to work on a farm in the Greater Khingan Mountains. But he learned fast when interested. He quickly mastered uploading products and making Excel sheets. Within half a year, he saw Taobao's rise and we switched from eBay.

Looking back, Da Hai began to take charge of his life in Shanghai. His earlier experiences, like two years on the farm near the Russian border, were also important. Some relatives from Anhui had been there since the 1960s.