When the dismissal bell rang at Midtown High School, Lin Hai looked out the window. A cold wind swept scattered snowflakes against the glass, while the Chinese supermarket across from the school had already hung strings of red lanterns, its windows covered with "Fortune" characters and paper cuttings wishing for prosperity.
His phone calendar showed that today was Huaxia's Lunar New Year's Eve. Although New York schools did not close for the occasion, the East Asian Culture Club had still set up a booth by the school gate where students could write spring couplets.
"Lin, Gwen said the Biology Club is discussing next semester's projects today. Are you coming?" Peter asked as he packed his things.
Lin Hai shook his head. "I promised Master I'd help prepare New Year's Eve dinner at the clinic. Tomorrow is Huaxia's Chinese New Year."
"Oh, right! The holiday with red envelopes and dumplings?" Peter smacked his forehead.
Just then, Harry and Gwen finished packing and came over to join Lin Hai and Peter.
"What dumpling holiday?" Harry had only caught those two words.
"It's Huaxia's Chinese New Year. Tonight is New Year's Eve, and tomorrow is the first day of our Chinese New Year. We have a custom of eating dumplings," Lin Hai explained. Harry did not know much about Huaxia culture.
Gwen, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She had always been interested in Huaxia culture, and after spending so much time with Lin Hai and discussing so many subjects with him, she had learned even more.
So she said in crisp, standard Chinese, "Happy New Year, may everything go as you wish, and may you prosper."
The classroom fell silent for two seconds. Peter's backpack, which he had not yet slung over his shoulder, dropped to the floor with a thud. Harry, too, lost the poise of an Osborn heir and stood there with his mouth hanging open. The two of them froze as if someone had hit pause.
Lin Hai blinked. "You speak Chinese?"
He was not overly surprised. Gwen was an honor student who outperformed all three of them, after all. A few Chinese phrases would not stump her. He was just curious when she had learned them.
"Just a few simple phrases. I looked through the calendar and saw that Huaxia's Chinese New Year was coming up, so I casually learned a few greetings. Well? Not bad, right?" Gwen winked playfully.
Lin Hai had just opened his mouth when Peter cried out, "Whoa! Gwen, you're amazing! Whenever I go to Dr. Chen's clinic, I often hear Lin Hai and Dr. Chen speaking Chinese. I can't speak much of it, but I can tell your pronunciation is spot-on!"
Harry nodded as well, wholeheartedly agreeing with Peter.
"Of course. I'm an honor student!" Gwen proudly lifted her chin.
At the end of the hallway, Ms. Clemente tapped the wall clock. "Kids, if you don't leave soon, I'm locking up."
The four of them gathered their things and left the school. "See you tomorrow," Lin Hai said as he finally bade his friends goodbye.
As he turned the corner, he could still hear Peter shouting, "Gwen! You secretly learned Chinese! Couldn't you at least tell us in advance—"
The wind scattered the rest of the conversation. Smiling, Lin Hai quickened his pace toward his master's clinic.
Chinatown felt far more festive than the area around the school. Almost every shop was playing cheerful Chinese songs, and street stalls were piled with spring couplets, red envelopes, and all kinds of holiday goods.
Chen Clinic had already put up brand-new spring couplets. Standing at the entrance, Lin Hai softly read his master's vigorous calligraphy: "'Spring breezes bring warmth, turning a thousand mountains green; the rising sun shines brightly, bringing glory to ten thousand trees.' The horizontal inscription reads, 'Healing Grove in Spring Warmth.'"
"Get in here and help!" his master's voice called from the back room. "The dumpling wrappers are all rolled out. I'm just waiting for you to fill them."
Steam filled the small kitchen in the back of the clinic. Chen Bing had changed out of his usual white coat and into a dark red tang suit. He was stir-frying something at the stove, and its fragrance filled the room. Seven or eight bowls of seasonings sat on the counter, with a large basin of mixed three-delicacy filling in the middle.
"Happy New Year, Master." Lin Hai set down his backpack, washed his hands, and skillfully took his place at the counter. "My parents just video-called and said they've started preparing back home too."
Chen Bing nodded, then turned and took a small wine flask from the cabinet. "You're seventeen now. You can drink a little Tusu Wine. According to the old custom, the youngest drinks first, to celebrate gaining another year."
The wine went down his throat with a spicy bite followed by the lingering sweetness of herbs. As he savored the novel sensation in his mouth, Lin Hai could not help feeling that New York's Chinese New Year was missing something.
"What are you spacing out for?" Chen Bing lightly tapped his forehead with a rolling pin.
"Master, New York's Chinese New Year feels like it's missing something," Lin Hai said.
"The sound of firecrackers." Chen Bing added a little sesame oil to the filling. "And your mother nagging you to put on thermal underwear."
"Hurry up and wrap them. Dinner starts at eight sharp. I invited a few old friends over for New Year's Eve dinner. None of them have been back home in decades."
The two worked together in perfect rhythm, and dumplings soon filled three trays.
Lin Hai's phone vibrated. His mother had sent a video call request. On the screen, his parents wore brand-new red clothes, while the TV behind them played a preview for the Spring Festival Gala.
"Xiao Hai! Have you eaten New Year's Eve dinner yet?" His mother's voice crossed eight thousand kilometers through the phone.
Lin Hai turned the camera toward the dumplings on the counter. "We're wrapping dumplings right now. Master taught me to make fish-shaped dumplings. He said they represent 'abundance year after year.'"
His father leaned close to the screen. "New York's cold, right? You need to put more ginger in your dumpling filling over there. Your mother asked me to ask if you're cold. Did you put on your thermal underwear?"
Lin Hai smiled and nodded, but his throat tightened. Such ordinary nagging felt so precious at that moment.
His father also quietly told him that they had deliberately left a bowl of dumplings on the windowsill in his room. According to their hometown custom, children far from home could still "eat" New Year's Eve dinner.
Their conversation continued until the dumplings went into the pot. As Dr. Chen's old friends gradually arrived, the small clinic was soon filled with New Year greetings in all sorts of dialects and bursts of laughter. Lin Hai served each guest hot tea, quietly observing the calluses and wrinkles on their hands as they accepted their cups.
By the time New Year's Eve dinner ended, it was nine thirty. Lin Hai politely declined the invitation to stay up and welcome the new year, since he still had to get up early for school tomorrow. His master walked him to the door and suddenly stuffed a thick red envelope into his hand. "Lucky money. Don't refuse it. By the old rites, you haven't had your coming-of-age ceremony yet, so you still count as a child."
"A gift from an elder must not be refused. Thank you, Master!" Lin Hai's eyes reddened slightly. He was a lucky one—his parents cared for him at home, and his master looked after him while he was away.
It was nearly ten when he left the clinic. New York's winter night was bitterly cold, but Chinatown was still bustling. A dragon dance troupe was parading down the street, and amid the drums and gongs, tourists held up their phones to film the rolling gold-and-red scales.
The lion dance troupe was not to be outdone either. One red and one yellow lion danced back and forth to the beat of the drums and gongs. Lin Hai skirted around the crowd and chose a quiet side street home.
As he passed through a dim alley, his sharp senses suddenly caught something unusual: the sound of metal clashing, deliberately hushed conversation, and a sickeningly sweet chemical smell. Lin Hai immediately softened his footsteps.
Twenty meters away, three men in hoodies were unloading cargo from a van. The cardboard boxes contained bags of colorful pills that glowed with an eerie light under the moon. One of them took out his phone to check the list.
"Devil's Breath, two thousand pills," one of them whispered. "Same place. Tomorrow, we let the street kids sample them."
Lin Hai's fingers unconsciously gripped the special pouch at his waist. He could summon vines to bind and subdue these men right now, but reason stopped him. They might have guns, and the drug supply chain was far more complicated than a few street thugs. He quietly backed away, photographed the license plate and delivery process with his phone, then took a detour and left.
After getting home, Lin Hai organized the license plate number and the men's appearances from his photos, marking down the time and location. Direct intervention was too risky, and he had a better channel.
This Saturday, he was scheduled to go to Fisk Tower to give Kingpin's wife, Vanessa Fisk, her routine acupuncture treatment. It would be the perfect opportunity to gather information.
The next morning, Lin Hai had barely set down his backpack in the classroom when three pairs of eyes fixed on him at once.
"So—" Peter leaned in close, his eyes gleaming behind his lenses. "What exactly did you eat for New Year's Eve dinner? Did you have those dragon-shaped dumplings that breathe fire?"
"Dumplings don't breathe fire." Lin Hai did not know whether to laugh or cry. "But Master made braised fish, mapo tofu, and rice cakes, which symbolize rising higher year after year."
Gwen leaned in too. "Did you watch the gala? Were there any technology-themed performances on the program?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah! Martial arts—what about martial arts? Was there any?" Ever since Peter had received that "secret manual" from Lin Hai, he had become very interested in martial arts.
"Uh, because of the time difference, we watched a rerun from previous years. It was mostly for the festive atmosphere. Master kept pointing out flaws in the magic tricks while watching," Lin Hai said, scratching his head.
Harry slowly spun his pen. "How late did you stay up? I looked up the custom. In theory, you're supposed to stay awake all night."
"Master let me off easy," Lin Hai said with a smile. "I still had school today, after all, so I went back fairly early." He had no plans to tell his three friends what he had encountered on the way back to his apartment last night—not until after he tested the waters with Kingpin on Saturday.
Then Lin Hai pulled out his phone and opened a photo of the clinic's spring couplets. "Look, Master made a hat out of a red envelope and put it on the acupuncture bronze man."
The three crowded around. Peter burst out laughing at the crooked "Fortune" character on the bronze man's head, Gwen seriously studied the calligraphic structure of the spring couplets, and Harry raised an eyebrow as he commented, "Red does have more festive impact than Osborn Enterprises' standard color."
The class bell rang, and the three reluctantly dispersed. Lin Hai opened his textbook. Outside, the morning sunlight slanted through the window glass onto the corner of his desk, illuminating the first day of the new year.
A very ordinary day.
A very fulfilling new year.
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