The middle-aged man repeatedly examined the black pearl. After a while, he looked up at her and said, “Thirty thousand is impossible. How about one thousand?”

　　Emily Walker said, “Twenty-nine thousand!”

　　“Two thousand.”

　　“Twenty-eight thousand!”

　　“Three thousand.”

　　“Twenty-seven thousand!”

　　“Let’s not drag this out any longer.” The middle-aged man chuckled, “How about this—ten thousand, let’s call it making a friend.”

　　After exchanging a glance with Emily Walker, I nodded in agreement.

　　One must know when to be content; ten thousand was already a price far beyond what I’d imagined.

　　After that, we went to the Industrial and Commercial Bank next to the Wumart supermarket north of the bridge. The middle-aged man withdrew the money and handed it to me, and I immediately deposited it into my bank card. Thinking back, after working myself to the bone at a summer job, I’d barely managed to earn two thousand yuan. Now, in just two or three days, my bankbook had an extra eighteen thousand—it felt like a dream.

　　In the taxi back to Qianmen, Emily Walker received a call from Grandma Walker, asking her to buy rice and flour.

　　Passing the grain store at the T-junction east of my alley, Emily Walker told the driver to stop. I got out with her and went into the store. After paying, before Aunt Walker could bend down, I, who was helping her carry the Jade Rabbit flowerpot, beat her to it and picked up two ten-jin bags of rice and flour with one hand.

　　“What are you doing?” Emily Walker tried to take them from me a few times. “You can’t carry everything yourself, give them to me.”

　　I walked on unconcerned, “It’s fine, we’re just two steps from home. You can help me open the door.”

　　I’m a people-pleaser; whenever I see someone in need, I can’t help but want to lend a hand, even if my parents have their opinions about her.

　　She twisted the iron ring on the door panel and pushed open the pitch-black courtyard gate. My mom and Grandma Walker were chatting under the Chinese toon tree.

　　Emily Walker stepped over the threshold and smiled, “Bought two bags of rice and flour, and even had to trouble Little James to help me carry them back. What a fuss.”

　　Mom glanced at the heavy things in my hands, frowned, then immediately beamed, “What trouble? Neighbors should look out for each other. If you have anything heavy in the future, just ask Little James to carry it. It’s nothing, hehe, boys are supposed to be strong—who else would you ask? Don’t be polite.”

　　“Alright, I won’t be polite then.” Emily Walker said with a smile, “I’ll go out and buy a couple of dishes tonight, let’s eat together?”

　　“No need, I’ll make a couple more dishes. You and your mom can come eat at my place.”

　　“Don’t go to so much trouble. I feel bad always bothering you.”

　　Mom pretended to be annoyed, “Come on, we’re like sisters—what’s there to feel bad about? You should try our Michael’s cooking.”

　　Unable to resist my mom’s warm hospitality, Emily Walker and Grandma Walker could only agree with a wry smile. Then she asked, “By the way, Sister Green, I have to visit a client’s house tonight. Is there a clean bathhouse nearby?”

　　My mom pointed vaguely to the south, “There’s one across the alley, fifteen yuan, but it smells pretty bad inside. Why go out to bathe? Didn’t I already scrub the bath bucket in the south room for you? It’s much more comfortable to wash at home. I’ll get you two keys in a bit.”

　　Dinner was eaten at the marble table in the courtyard: Kung Pao chicken, braised pork belly, chive omelet, pine nut pork tripe, Liubiju pickles. After the meal, a neighbor aunt from the street came to ask my mom to go for a walk, but she didn’t go. Instead, she took Emily Walker to the south room to teach her how to turn on the bath water.

　　Huh?

　　A walk?

　　After downing a big bowl of millet porridge, I burped, remembered something, and hopped on my dad’s old 28 bicycle. After pumping up the tires at the repair shop at the alley entrance, I rode all the way to Zhushikou Avenue.

　　There was drumming and gong-beating in front of the big square, with many old ladies dancing the yangge with fans.

　　I parked the bike and stopped at a few stalls under the overpass. This was the place I’d suddenly remembered. On this very day in the past, my mom came back from a walk with the neighbors and told me that someone at Zhushikou had incredible luck—bought a pair of ornamental walnuts at a stall, and the two walnuts were almost clones, exactly the same.

　　There were six or seven stalls: selling clothes, stockings, elastic bands.

　　I walked to the only stall selling walnuts, squatted down, and casually picked up a few hickory nuts from the pile. To be precise, this duck-bill variety is a type of Juglans mandshurica, also called duck-head, mostly produced in the three northeastern provinces and the northern foothills of the Yanshan Mountains. They’re not common in Beijing markets, but they’re not worth much either. But anyone who’s played with walnuts knows there are no absolutes—if you can find a pair of cloned duck-bill walnuts, they’re worth a fortune to the right collector.

　　I looked at the man in his thirties, clearly not local: “How much for the walnuts?”

　　He said, “Five yuan each, ten for a pair.”

　　I nodded and quickly started searching through the pile. But after a while, I helplessly realized this clumsy method was useless. I didn’t have that person’s luck—I couldn’t just pick out that cloned pair from two or three hundred walnuts. Even if I had the patience, I didn’t have the time.

　　More and more people were picking through the walnuts, and quite a few were already paying to buy.

　　But what if someone picked one of that pair before I did? Wouldn’t I be out of luck?