A Springtime Poem

[Government-sponsored piano student ✖️ Chinese American trust-fund kid in an orchestra]

That spring, I, an art student, applied for a government-sponsored study-abroad program. At the time, my family’s clothing factory had been forced to shut down due to poor management. My father was in the south, frantic with worry. He put up everything he owned as collateral and paid all the employees their wages. Overnight, our family’s life fell from a great height, leaving us battered and broken.

I’d rarely known hardship growing up. The only time I’d cried was when I couldn’t play the piano. Before the bankruptcy, Dad had just decided to send me abroad to study.

“Dad, don’t worry about the money. Our college has government-sponsored study-abroad placements, and I’ve already applied.”

On September 21, I flew from Zhengzhou to Shanghai, transferred to a flight to Japan, and landed in California fifteen hours later.

Standing on this land again, I felt dazed, as if my identity had changed.

I first saw him at the opening ceremony. The principal enthusiastically introduced the school orchestra, which had just won second place at an international orchestral competition. He spoke as the student representative, and seeing his Asian face made me feel the warmth of meeting someone from home in a foreign country.

The next time I saw him, I was exhausted on my way to a part-time job. A car sped past me, and I couldn’t help grumbling in Chinese. He caught me in the act.

“You like me, don’t you? Your microexpressions give you away,” Chun said as he looked at me. My face instantly turned red to the tips of my ears.

We talked about our families and our futures. I said, “Chun, we might not be right for each other. Besides, your family...”

Chun said,

“Only families without the ability to succeed would sacrifice their children to protect the family business.”

“My family doesn’t need that.”