Lin An's Regret

It was March in New York, and winter hadn't quite let go.

Sunlight slanted through the window, cutting a bright diagonal across the faded brown sofa in Darnell's living room and bringing a little, barely noticeable warmth.

Lin An, lying at the edge of the light, instinctively curled up and burrowed into a threadbare blanket.

He felt a little cold. The apartment had heat, but it had shut off two hours ago.

The heating system in this old apartment building only ran for a little while each night. When it came on and when it shut off was entirely up to the landlord's mood. The only reason he turned on the heat at all was because the law required it; he did it just to appease the community.

Never mind whether the tenants were cold. The important thing was whether the heat was on, right?

Lin An was starting to feel miserable. Though he was still sleepy, he threw off the blanket and sat up, staring blankly at the old window as he listened to the engines and horns outside.

In the world as Lin An saw it, several Bullet Screens drifted past now that he was awake.

[The sleeping beauty's awake.]

[I thought he'd sleep until the afternoon. This guy's got no stamina. Back in my day, I slept shirtless in minus twenty degrees in the Northeast.]

[The guy above is talking out of his ass.]

[I can smell the stench through the screen. That's disgusting.]

Dirty?

The Bullet Screens reminded Lin An that after he and Darnell had ridden Roadster Bicycles back to Darnell's place in the early hours of the morning, he'd been so exhausted that he'd fallen asleep on the living-room sofa without changing or taking a shower.

So Lin An was still wearing a vagrant's outfit that he had no idea how long it had gone without a wash. Blood and sweat, dust and rust, were caked together on the fabric. The sight and smell of it... Yeesh.

At the thought, Lin An sat on the sofa and looked around at the place he was in.

Darnell's living room was tiny. One sofa, a twenty-one-inch CRT television with a huge back, and a folding dining table were enough to fill it.

The kitchen was to the right. Its door was open, and Lin An could see Darnell's broad back and big butt, as well as hear him humming some unknown tune.

To the left were three closed doors. The bathroom Lin An needed was obviously behind one of them.

Just then, Lin An's stomach growled. Loudly.

Loud enough that Darnell, who was rummaging through the fridge in the kitchen, stopped.

"Did you hear that?"

Darnell poked his head out from behind the fridge door and let out a puff of white breath.

"I just heard your stomach talking. It said, 'Darnell, you've got to save me. I need milk and bread.'"

"No, Darnell. Right now, I need a shower."

Lin An stood up and glanced back at the sofa. A blackish-red stain now stood out starkly on the old but clean fabric.

It made him feel even more disgusted with himself.

"Bro, you've been asleep for hours. Maybe ten."

Darnell shut the fridge and stood in the kitchen doorway, hands on his hips, wearing a pair of fluffy slippers.

"Do you know what time it is? Two in the afternoon."

"Taking a shower is more important."

"Okay, okay..."

Darnell spread his hands in resignation.

He gestured toward the three doors on the left.

"The bathroom's over there, the second door on the left. The others are private... I should mention, my water heater's broken."

Lin An wasn't thinking about the lack of hot water or having to take a cold shower in the chilly month of March. Instead, he looked at Darnell.

Though the weather was cold, Darnell wore nothing but a white T-shirt, and Lin An couldn't see any wounds on him.

But Lin An clearly remembered the monster's claws raking him several times the night before. Darnell had even shouted that he needed a rabies shot.

"Where are your wounds?"

Lin An asked.

"My wounds?"

Darnell looked over his body.

"I'm fine. I was scared my mom would see, so my wounds healed last night. Not even a scar... Okay, I won't hide it from you. I'm actually an angel, just like in the movies..."

He spread his arms and struck a pose as if descending from the heavens, then immediately huddled up as cold air slipped under his clothes.

"But something went wrong when God sent me to New York, and he forgot to give me wings... You know what I mean?"

"So those gunmen who massacred everyone in the abandoned factory last night were after you?"

"No, no. I'm just a Black guy. Why would they massacre so many people just to kill me..."

Lin An watched Darnell's voice trail off.

"Okay, okay, they probably were after me. I thought they'd leave if I ran into the shantytown district... Don't tell my mom. She'd be scared."

"No problem."

"Good, bro. I knew you were a good guy."

Lin An had no idea what kind of trouble this guy named Darnell had gotten himself into.

But judging by how tough he had been during his fight with the monster the previous night, and how all his cuts and bruises had healed overnight, there was a very high chance Darnell had some kind of special ability.

Based on Lin An's own guess and the possibilities suggested by the Bullet Screens, the armed men and the monsters had probably been sent by some small pharmaceutical company to capture test subjects.

"Did I cross over into the world of the X-Men movies?"

"Bro, what are you talking about?"

"Nothing. I'm talking to the audience..."

Lin An waved a hand and started toward the bathroom, but quickly turned back.

"Oh, right. Here's two hundred bucks. Go buy me some clothes."

Darnell stared at the wad of green bills in his hand.

"Bro, your clothes are all torn up. Where'd you hide this money... Oh, I almost forgot. You're not an ordinary person, just like me. You're a wizard who can conjure food out of thin air.

"Clothes... Hang on."

Darnell stuffed the money in his pocket, then went into a room and came out with a stack of clothes, which he handed to Lin An.

"Thank me, man. I got clothes ready for you a while ago. I bought these at a Chinese-owned clothing store... They didn't cost two hundred bucks, but the rest is my errand fee. You can't complain."

Lin An checked the clothes. There was a shirt, a pair of pants, a jacket, underwear, and sneakers. They weren't great quality, but having something clean to change into right away was a blessing. He didn't say anything; he took the clothes and headed for the bathroom.

[I've changed my mind a little about this Ni Ge. Didn't expect him to be so thoughtful. He even got the streamer clothes ahead of time.]

[Bullshit. This Ni Ge is taking credit for someone else's work.]

[Bro, did you just log on? His mom was the one who got the clothes ready for the streamer this morning, not this Ni Ge going out to buy them.]

[Where'd the streamer get the money?]

[Aw, why's the camera stuck outside the bathroom? I wanted to see the streamer's body.]

There wasn't much to say about the shower. Taking a cold shower in New York in March was never going to be pleasant. When Lin An left the bathroom in his new clothes, his face was deathly pale.

"Mother of God, bro, you're white? You're not a good brother from China!?"

Darnell, sitting at the dining table, threw his arms wide in exaggerated surprise and teased Lin An in a rapping rhythm.

"Look at your skin, white as milk. Look at your face, fine as porcelain..."

The more Darnell said, the more carried away he got. He stood up from his chair and pressed one hand to his chest, like he was performing in an opera.

"And that face of yours... Bro, are you sure you got your race right? You're not an illegal immigrant from Ireland? Or maybe you're some Hollywood star who lost his memory and ended up on the streets of New York?"

He started laughing before he could finish, doubled over, and dropped back into his chair. Its legs scraped across the floor with a shrill squeak.

The Bullet Screens were full of laughter, too.

After talking with Darnell the night before and again just now, Lin An had more or less gotten used to livestreaming and Ni Ge's style. He didn't respond to the teasing. He simply dropped into a chair at the table.

Before sitting down, Lin An hadn't expected Darnell to have much food to offer.

For one thing, everyone knew what American food culture was like. For another, it was obvious Darnell's family wasn't well-off. They couldn't afford to spend much on food.

But once Lin An sat down, he realized the situation wasn't what he'd expected.

In the middle of the table was a big box of fried rice, packed into one of those white paper cartons from a Chinese takeout restaurant. It was loaded with ingredients: egg, peas, diced carrots, and thin strips of barbecued pork scattered among the rice.

Beside it was a box of General Tso's Chicken, with crispy fried chicken pieces coated in orange-red sauce and sprinkled with a few white sesame seeds.

Next to that were two orders of spring rolls, two to an order, fried golden and wrapped in foil at one end for easy handling.

There was also a box of beef and broccoli. The beef was sliced very thin, and the thickened, dark-brown sauce coated the meat and broccoli, giving them a glossy sheen.

The broccoli wasn't so green anymore, which meant it had been cooked a while ago. But in New York in March, that was actually a good thing. It was at just the right temperature—not hot enough to burn his mouth, and not cold, either.

The last box held hot-and-sour soup, sealed tightly in a round plastic container. Through the lid, he could see the dark-brown soup, with shreds of tofu and wood ear mushrooms floating alongside wisps of egg.

Two pairs of chopsticks were stacked beside the soup container. They weren't the disposable kind that came with American fortune cookies, but reusable black plastic ones, engraved with gold Chinese characters.

Lin An stared at the spread and paused.

Darnell sat opposite him, arms crossed over his chest, wearing the sort of expression that said, "I know what you're thinking."

"Surprise!"

He spread his arms.

"Bro, quit staring and eat! It won't taste as good once it's cold!"

"Mm-hmm."

He was right. Chinese food didn't taste good cold, and Lin An was starving. He picked up his chopsticks and dug in alongside Darnell.

Darnell liked to talk a lot in his day-to-day life. He was a chatterbox, but while they ate, he didn't say a word. Other than the sound of chewing, there wasn't a peep.

That let Lin An enjoy a hearty meal in peace.

Once they had eaten their fill, Darnell took the dishes into the kitchen to clean up. Lin An watched his friend bustling around in there thoughtfully, then glanced at the family photo hanging on the living-room wall.

There were four people in the photo: two men and two women.

One of them was Darnell. He looked younger than he did now, about thirty.

He had his arm around a girl who looked about twelve or thirteen, with a bronze complexion and wavy black hair. She looked a little like she was mixed-race, Asian and Black. She had one arm around his waist, too.

Behind them stood a yellow-skinned man in his thirties and a Black woman about the same age.

Lin An stared at the photo, lost in thought.

The Bullet Screens were buzzing with speculation, unable to make sense of it either.

After looking at the photo for a while, Lin An couldn't help asking,

"Darnell, do you have a daughter?"

"What?"

Darnell had just finished washing the dishes. He walked out looking confused, then followed Lin An's gaze to the wall.

"That's my little sister."

"What?"

Lin An and the Bullet Screens were stunned.

"How old was your mom back then?"

Darnell realized what Lin An was wondering about and sighed.

"The woman in the photo is my mom. She was in her thirties back then, and I was only sixteen. The man behind us was my stepdad. He was from Fujian, China. He was a good man. God called him up last year... Oh, no, that's not right. He said he was going to see Mazu.

"And even though I look intimidating, I'm only eighteen now."

A face covered in stubble, deep forehead lines, drooping eyes—his whole expression radiated the grim, weary look of someone who'd been ground down by life. And he was telling Lin An he was only eighteen?

[So this Ni Ge just looks a little older than he is? He's not actually that old?]

[LOL]

[This guy must've started working while he was still in the womb.]

Lin An didn't know what to say. Things had gone far beyond what he'd expected.

Still, it wasn't a big deal, and it answered the question of why Darnell had been so friendly to him, an Asian guy, from the start. Apart from the help he'd given him at the abandoned factory, Darnell's stepdad had something to do with it, too.

After they had eaten their fill, Darnell also took the sofa cover off and tossed it into the washing machine. Then he called to Lin An, getting him ready to head out.

"Come on, bro. Let's go out and walk around, see if we can make some money."

"What do you mean, make money?"

"A good friend of mine told me the white folks are gonna have a march on the commercial strip in the neighboring community. The bros are planning to head over and grab some stuff once the march starts. I'm thinking of going, too."

Lin An raised an eyebrow. Grab some stuff?

What stuff?

[Are we starting the zero-dollar shopping already?]

[This has actually been going on in the U.S. for a long time. It didn't start in 2021. The first zero-dollar shopping spree happened in 1930, during the Great Depression, and it's been going on ever since. It's a tradition for poor Americans, not just Black people.]

"Can I go, too?"

"Of course, bro. You're the good friend who saved my life. You can come. Let's go..."

"I have one more question... If those armed men from last night haven't given up and are still after you, what happens if we run into them outside?

"The police must have the abandoned factory surrounded by now. What if they figure out you were involved and come after you to arrest you..."

"It's fine."

Darnell had the natural optimism of a Black man. He stood by the window with one hand on his hip, sweeping his other hand in a wide circle as if outlining the whole of New York.

"When I was being chased last night, they never actually got a good look at my face. The people who really chased me were all killed by you.

"Besides, New York's huge, and there's a ton of people living here. They're supposed to pick me out from among all those Ni Ge in New York City? You know what I mean?"

He turned to face Lin An, wearing an expression as serious as a teacher's while explaining a lesson to elementary school students.

"And this is Queens, not Manhattan, not Brooklyn. This is Jamaica Community. We have our own rules here."

He went to the window, lifted the curtain, and pointed at the street outside.

"Who lives here? Black people, Latinos, Bangladeshis. They're all poor, and there are a lot of undocumented immigrants—people who couldn't make it anywhere else. It's not easy for the police to find someone here."

He let the curtain fall, came back, and dropped into a chair beside the dining table.

"People here don't like the police. When cops come looking for them, it's either to check their papers, write them a ticket, or... Anyway, it's never for anything good.

"And they don't like strangers, either. If a few white guys drive a black SUV around the neighborhood, what do you think will happen?"

[They'll die.]

[The neighborhood divides in New York are real. They've always been there.]

[White people going into a Black neighborhood? That's asking to get killed.]

"And even if they really do come looking for me, it's fine. Worst comes to worst, I just die."

Darnell sounded completely at ease.

[It's fine, streamer. The clearance rate for crimes in the United States is really low. And the gunmen who chased you down last night were mostly using civilian firearms. They didn't even have a single bulletproof vest. They definitely weren't backed by some major force. The New York police will go after them first, not Ni Ge.]

[Exactly. I'm with the New York police right now. That's just how they operate.]

[666. I didn't realize there were so many talented people in the livestream chat.]

"I see."

A look of regret crossed Lin An's face.

"If that's the case, doesn't that mean my fun is over?"

[???]

"What? Bro, what are you talking about?"

"Nothing."

"Bro, say that again. What you just said kind of scared me!"