"Oh, then we're truly from the same hometown! I'm also from Bingcheng," Jiang Hai said with a smile upon hearing the woman's words.
"Really? You're from Bingcheng too? Haha, what a coincidence. Which part of Bingcheng are you from?" she asked with a bright smile.
"I'm from Nangang District," Jiang Hai replied.
"That's incredible! I'm from Nangang too—Haixi area," the woman said, her eyes lighting up. What were the odds?
"I'm from the health bureau area, not far from there," Jiang Hai added, a little surprised himself.
"Fate really works in strange ways. So, how long have you been in the U.S.?" she asked, clearly more relaxed now.
"Only about two years. What about you? Looks like you've been here longer."
"Yeah, it's been almost four years…" she said, her tone shifting slightly as she sighed and began telling her story.
People from Northeast China were known for their bluntness. They said what they felt. When guarded, they might make up stories, but once their guard was down, they were an open book. This woman was no exception.
Her name was Xia Yuan, and she was roughly Jiang Hai's age—born in 1987, a year older than him.
She had average academic performance, but good looks. Her family spent a lot of money to send her to a good university, where she met her husband. He was handsome, fair-skinned, and gentlemanly—a foreign student, and her college classmate. They fell in love and dated for three years.
During her final year, she discovered she was pregnant. At a loss for what to do, her boyfriend suggested they move to the U.S., promising to take care of everything. Naive and inexperienced, Xia Yuan agreed.
Her family, like many others, worshipped all things foreign. Despite criticizing her behind her back, they were overjoyed when she said she was moving to America. They sent her off with pride.
The first year was okay. Life was hard, but at least they had dreams to chase together.
But by the second year, her husband's true nature began to show. Gambling, affairs, and shady female acquaintances started cropping up. By the third year, he had turned to alcohol. And as Jiang Hai guessed, violence followed—not just arguments, but hitting and screaming.
Unable to tolerate it anymore, Xia Yuan moved out. But she couldn't file for divorce.
Why? Because her residency status was tied to the marriage. If she divorced him, she'd be deported, and her daughter might be sent to an orphanage.
That was something she absolutely couldn't allow.
So, despite moving out, she still held on, for the sake of her daughter.
One had to admit—Chinese women carried a kind of resilience, even toughness, deep in their bones. Xia Yuan supported her family on her own.
Now, she worked two jobs: one to put food on the table, the other to save money for her daughter's future. In the U.S., public school might be free, but college wasn't—and student loans were no joke.
She didn't want her daughter to grow up drowning in debt like many American college students.
Her biggest challenge was English. Though she had passed China's CET-4 exam, listening and speaking remained difficult. So, she worked in Chinese restaurants and markets where she could get by without much English.
As for how she ended up in Winthrop, it was another story altogether.
Some tour groups included both couples and single men—who, naturally, had needs. In parts of the U.S., professional women were legal and even taxed. Some people saw an opportunity there.
Bars existed too, of course, but cultural and aesthetic differences meant that most Westerners didn't find Eastern women attractive—flat features, less pronounced facial contours. Unless they were after money, Western women rarely approached Asian men.
And Winthrop's Western population wasn't exactly poor. If they couldn't find companionship in a bar, they'd spend money to get what they wanted.
That's where people like Xia Yuan came in, often recruited by fellow Chinese women. At first, she had no idea what the job entailed. But once she arrived and realized the nature of the work, she immediately declined.
This was one good thing about the U.S.—you weren't forced into anything. If you wanted to leave, you could. But you'd have to pay your own way.
She hitched a ride from a man in a pickup truck after paying him a small fee. But halfway there, he started making moves on her. After resisting, the man grew angry—but didn't dare hit her due to the strict U.S. laws protecting women.
Instead, he kicked her out, and that's when Jiang Hai found her.
"Wow, that's really unlucky," Jiang Hai commented with a slight chuckle after hearing her story.
"Tell me about it," Xia Yuan said with a helpless smile. She took a piece of tissue paper, carefully wrapped the cigarette butt, and crushed it cleanly. Clearly, this wasn't her first time doing it—her technique was practiced.
"Turn right up ahead, thanks," she added casually, pocketing the tissue-wrapped cigarette.
Jiang Hai steered the car onto a smaller road. The area was familiar.
This was still greater Boston, on the edge of Winthrop, Chelsea, and Revere—a place locals called "No Man's Land."
Despite the name, it was far safer than some neighborhoods in New York City, since the Appalachians weren't far away. Wildlife sometimes wandered into town—mountain lions, bears, deer—but security was tight, and the area was heavily patrolled.
Unfortunately, the region had little economic value. With no industries, it remained poor and underdeveloped.
As Jiang Hai drove through, he saw two-story buildings with peeling paint. Residents were modestly dressed, and the streets were mostly filled with the elderly and children—few young adults in sight.
In the distance, he spotted Haishang City, a familiar place owned by Zhang Dehai.
"Right here," Xia Yuan said, pointing toward a residential complex.
Outside stood a few elderly Chinese people and children. It looked like this was the small Chinatown Xia Yuan had mentioned.
"Thanks so much for the ride. I would've paid you, but I gave all my money to that jerk in the truck. Then again, with a car like this, you probably don't need a few bucks. How about this—why don't I cook you dinner?"
Jiang Hai was about to drive off when Xia Yuan tapped the car door.
"Treat me to dinner?" he asked, amused.
"What? You think I can't cook? Don't underestimate single mothers! I've got my specialties," Xia Yuan said with mock offense.
Jiang Hai grinned, gave her an "OK" sign, parked the car nearby, and stepped out.
"It's still early. Let's go get ingredients for tonight," she said cheerfully.
"What are we eating?" Jiang Hai asked, glancing around. The environment wasn't great—the air quality here was actually worse than average, which said a lot in the U.S. Still, he didn't want to offend her pride by declining the offer.
"How about fish?" Xia Yuan grinned.
"Not bad." Jiang Hai nodded. Honestly, he was a little tired of both fish and beef, but fish was still better than nothing.
"Then let's go fishing first."
Jiang Hai blinked. "You catch the meal when you invite someone to dinner?"
Shaking his head with a wry smile, he followed her lead.
They first went to a neighbor's place and borrowed a fishing rod. Then they headed toward a small river Jiang Hai had seen earlier.
As expected, the river was full of Asian carp—a common issue in American waterways. Once they reached the riverbank, Xia Yuan looked around, clearly satisfied.
"Americans really waste resources. Look at these fish—all wild! In China, these would've been caught long ago. Tsk, alright, let's cast our rods. Whatever we catch, we eat. But we need to hurry—my daughter gets out of school soon," she said, patting Jiang Hai's arm and glancing at the time. It was almost 3 p.m.
"You didn't even decide the menu?" Jiang Hai laughed, casting his line into the river.
"That depends on what we catch!" she replied.
"If it's snakehead, I'll make boiled fish. Don't look down on me—I'm a pro when it comes to fish. If it's carp, I'll braise it. Silver carp? Steamed. Mandarin fish? Also steamed. But if we get grass carp, I'll make you some Molly Fish Stew."
Jiang Hai was stunned. "You can make Molly Fish Stew?"
That was a true Long Province specialty. Jiang Hai had loved it as a child, especially the tofu soaked in the fish broth. These days, few restaurants made it well.
"Of course! Carp and black carp work too, but they need to be big. That depends on your fishing skills."
"No problem," Jiang Hai grinned.
He turned his focus to the river. Though he wasn't the best at sea fishing, he excelled at freshwater.
Fixing his eyes on the water, he studied the slow-moving fish.
Fishing in America really wasn't hard. Most people didn't eat river fish here, so the fish were easy to catch.
Just like now—his float bobbed.
(To be continued.)