I Want To Marry My dad, Not My Uncle - Chapter 5

On the ground lay a sealed pack of cigarettes, two lighters, three hundred-dollar bills, and a few dozen dollars in loose change. The leader of the Latin American gang raised his gun, saying, “Do not think we are easy to fool; you just stepped out of a luxury car”. The Black gang members looked at Xingchen but continued to wave their handguns, eager to drive the Latin American gang away. After a heated argument, the Latin American group eventually left, likely to consult their superiors, fearing the risk of a larger conflict.

The Black gang members picked up the money and cigarettes, and one said, “Hey, little four-eyes, the Crips must have had a reason to follow you this far. Today, our Two-Point Gang’s protection”. Before he could finish, Xingchen struck, sending the man flying into a wire fence. Xingchen stood expressionless, and without even looking down, he dismantled the gun in his hand into five pieces. The parts clattered to the ground, and the remaining gang members exchanged nervous glances before rushing him together in a classic gang-style brawl.

A few minutes later, Xingchen took off his glasses, wiped the blood spatters from them, tucked them into his pocket, and hoisted one of the men up to retrieve the cigarettes and money from his pockets. As a figure appeared in the streetlight, Xingchen turned, his dead and hollow eyes meeting a pair of amber pupils through the smoke. In the dark, filthy alley, four men groaned in pain. The lean, tall youth had blood on his cheeks, his features looking cold and detached through the cigarette smoke. Xingchen let go, his eyes filling with mist, and he flew into Vincent’s arms. “Sob, sir, I am so scared”. The gang members stared in silence.

Vincent had not seen such a sudden change in demeanor in a long time. He slowly raised his hand and patted Xingchen’s back. Xingchen spoke incoherently, claiming the men had just fallen down on their own and expressing fear that they would try to extort him. Without his heavy black-rimmed glasses, the young man looked like an exquisite Asian doll. Only the faint smell of mint cigarettes and the blood spots on his face reminded Vincent that what he had just witnessed was real. Vincent steadied him and said, “If you can take them down that easily, you are quite impressive”. Xingchen clutched his clothes like a frightened rabbit, explaining that his grandfather had taught him, though he rarely used those skills.

Vincent held his wrist and said, “It is fine. Let us go, I will take you back”. Xingchen held his hand back, finding Vincent’s hand warm enough to thaw his own ice-cold skin. Vincent claimed he was just passing by when Xingchen asked why he was there. Outside the alley, the Alpine car was waiting, and the driver reported that a security sweep team was scheduled for the next day. Xingchen was alarmed, as he had just placed a tracker that would be easily discovered. He decided to act immediately, collapsing into Vincent’s arms and claiming to feel dizzy. Vincent picked him up as if he were a cat, and Xingchen noticed the stark difference in their physiques; Vincent’s arm was as thick as Xingchen’s leg.

Once in the car, Xingchen retrieved the tracker. Vincent suddenly gripped his chin, his gaze intense. He used a wet wipe to clean the blood from Xingchen’s face, moving with a gentleness that felt like touching a porcelain doll. Vincent asked when Xingchen had last eaten, and upon learning it had been several days, he chided him to spend less on cigarettes and more on food. Vincent then directed the driver to a destination. While Xingchen played with his phone, news of a traffic jam popped up, causing the driver to take an alternate route, which resulted in a 300-dollar fine for the car’s illegal window tint. Vincent simply kept the ticket in the dashboard, calling the situation interesting.

The destination turned out to be a modest Chinese restaurant. Xingchen was confused as they ate simple dough-drop soup. He realized Vincent brought him there because of the cultural habit that one should drink hot soup when unwell or uncomfortable, unlike the American practice of using cold electrolytes or ice. As Xingchen warmed his stomach with the soup, he felt slight progress. Vincent then asked, “How much are your tuition and rent?”. Xingchen looked up, bewildered by the sudden question.