Jason | Wang Yang

Every time I return to Shanghai, I take a flight that arrives late at night. This time feels like sneaking into a city, which feels psychedelic. Only one airport bus line was still running, the night watch line, until the last flight. Every time I get off at the same spot, on Yan'an Elevated Road near Jing'an Temple. Although it's midnight, many cars are still passing by, but it doesn't feel noisy. Although they are also driven by drivers, they seem like machines passing by. Crossing the huge intersection via the overpass, there is a Lawson convenience store on the way down, which is my entrance to this city. I come back mostly in winter, during the Chinese New Year. Shanghai's winter nights are cold; I need to go in to warm up, buy a hot coffee, and calm down. Also a lighter and cigarettes. Every time, there will always be people coming in and out of this store to buy food. Mostly young people, maybe getting off work nearby, or playing until they're hungry. Outside the store is a platform with two tables, usually messy with food wrappers. The staff may not have time to clean up, and probably don't care much about the mess. I would sit there, smoke a few cigarettes, drink a cup of coffee, and then I consider myself to have entered Shanghai. I had told Xiao You about the significance of Lawson convenience store to me. Her feeling wasn't that strong. She said to her it was just a convenient place to buy things. I met her at an art exhibition hosted by a friend. At that time, I had been running a late-night diner for half a year. I was back in Shanghai for a temporary stay and hadn't decided whether to return to Dali. After finishing my coffee, there would usually be shared bikes outside the convenience store, so I would ride one to the booked guesthouse. I always stayed near Xiangyang South Road, usually a room, some more refined, some rougher, next door to regular residents. I often booked in the evening of the same day; after a certain time, there would be a bigger discount. The landlord would send me the door lock password and route map, and I would find my way there in the middle of the night without running into neighbors. The room was hidden in a building in an alley, like a hole dug for an animal. I came back just to see Wang Yang. He had only two days before leaving Shanghai and returning to the US. Despite the hassle, I still wanted to meet him. It had been nine years since he left Dali. The next day around 3 pm, the air outside was scorching heat. Wang Yang and Ruby arrived at my room one after another, in Clement Apartment. This is a very nice old French Concession apartment. Six years ago, Huahua was unwilling to go to Shanghai for medical treatment. I showed her photos, a room in Clement Apartment with a large hexagonal window, saying, "If you go, you'll stay here," and she agreed. Ruby and Wang Yang sat on the wooden floor in the room, while I sat on the balcony floor, which was tiled with small mosaic tiles. Wang Yang had become more robust. "Life in the US is very monotonous. After work, there's no social life, so I go to the gym, swim, rarely run. It's boring, but it suits me. Simple." "My son is six years old. His mother and I each take care of him one day. Our homes are close, five minutes apart." "The feeling of taking care of a child is great—a little person completely dependent on you. Now that he's older, I finally have time to date." Although we had occasional conversations on WeChat over the years, we never touched on personal matters. "I'm a very private person and don't like to talk about these things, but since we're meeting, I can talk now." We chatted like before. Although many years had passed and our lives were different, being together felt the same as when we first met that year. In the evening, we went to a nearby Xiaotaoyuan restaurant. I ordered spicy pork noodles, Wang Yang had pork chop noodles, Ruby had tofu pudding and rice balls, and we also shared some steamed soup dumplings. After eating, we went to Yongkang Road for roadside coffee. Rick's CoffeeLab had already closed, but he was still there and gave us cold brew. Wang Yang mentioned the "Fish and Chips" shop from back then on Yongkang Road, pointing to next door, "It was probably around this spot." Wang Yang left Dali alone to study in the US nine years ago. In Dali, he and Honghong had opened "Fish and Chips" because there were limited things to do, and opening a restaurant of this type was the simplest. But he still spent considerable effort researching how to make good fried fish batter and homemade white sauce. He was serious and smart; the tables and chairs in the shop were also self-made. The business was doing well. I think Dali was an attempt for him to escape the life set by the city. In the end, he still felt the small and tight-knit community was uncomfortable and cramped, and it didn't bring him joy. So he left, not back to Shanghai, but to Arizona in the US to study computer science, and stayed there to work and live. In fact, two years before that, we had arrived in Dali one after another, living at "Yuanfang." I tried to open a late-night diner as an experiment, and he watched the shop start from scratch. We also met Yong together, went running and cycling, climbed the mountain at night to the highland inn, stayed overnight there, chatted, and cooked. Yong is of Vietnamese descent, born in the US. After graduating from college, he sold vegetables at a market. He seemed to have studied philosophy. He saved a bit of money and traveled the world. Probably like Wang Yang, it was also a transition period. Because he met us, he stayed in Dali for more than a month. It was truly wonderful times; even I couldn't bear to leave. Later, he left Dali for Vietnam. In Da Lat, he met a Chinese girl asking for directions on the street, who happened to be my friend Lao Jiang. He fell in love, followed her back to Shanghai, and they went through some torment together. I only found out about this a few years later when I returned to Shanghai. I heard from Lao Jiang that he went back to studying computer science and is now working at a company with considerable pressure. I called him, and it seemed he was no longer the same young man as before. But a person goes through different stages in life, sometimes good, sometimes bad, free or constrained. Am I not the same? Wang Yang, Yong, and I. Perhaps because of that beautiful time, after Wang Yang returned, he heard that the daytime Hutong coffee shop in Chengchang was no longer wanted, and he decided to take it over and open a shop in Dali. Rewind three more years to 2011, on Weizhou Island. After swimming, I walked into the Dahai Guesthouse and met a young man who greeted me enthusiastically—it was Wang Yang. He later said he saw my ASICS running shoes left at the guesthouse. He also ran, so he felt a connection. At the time, I had set up a tent on the beach and lived there. Dahai Guesthouse was in the nearby woods. I ate there, took showers, and at night returned to my tent. Dahai had left Shanghai and started his own business for the first time. He built the guesthouse from a patch of wild jungle, slowly constructing it. I had resigned because of a cycling plan in Spain, and after returning, I didn't want to work for the time being. So I came to him, staying by the seaside for a while, swimming in the sea every morning and running around the island. I had no plans for the future and wasn't anxious. As long as I had freedom, everything was fine. From that day on, we ran around the island together, swam together, swimming far out. At that time, I was a better swimmer. We also went at night, diving into the underwater world, parting the water with our hands, which glowed with sparkling light—a strange and wonderful world. It wasn't until later that I learned this phenomenon only occurs during certain times of the year, related to some planktonic algae organisms. One day, while swimming, I encountered a group of graceful jellyfish. As I was admiring their beauty, I felt an electric shock and stinging pain. A whole jellyfish was plastered against my chest. I endured the intense pain and swam 1.5 kilometers back to shore, then went to a nearby hospital for treatment. After that, I never dared to swim far out again, only near the beach. Wang Yang was still in the distance, laughing at me. Later, he left first since he was on a short vacation. After I stayed for a full month, one night back in Shanghai, he sent me a message asking if I wanted to go for a run on the street. I said yes. And so we became friends. Most of the time, people are often lonely, but in very brief periods, we have friends whom we can meet anytime without needing plans or content. Ruby is my good friend, so the three of us hung out together. Ruby, Honghong, Wang Yang, and I.

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