"[Name], the daughter of Sherry Parker, decided to leave Detroit for good after her father died in a tragic car accident. Seeking a fresh start, she and her mother moved to Beijing, China.
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"Mom, I was wondering if I could help Mrs. Wang downstairs when she sells in her shop because I saw a lot of customers earlier," I proposed during our dinner.
She looked at me with curiosity and a smile. "Of course, no problem with me," she replied.
I nodded in appreciation and shifted my attention to the television, mindlessly flipping through channels. Suddenly, I came across a program featuring a guy teaching kung fu.
I found myself captivated by the movements and discipline showcased on the screen. In that moment, Cheng's face flashed through my mind, and I gasped, feeling a surge of determination. I made a decision—I would teach myself kung fu.
The next day, I found myself in the living room, dedicated to practicing kung fu while simultaneously watching television for guidance and inspiration. My attempts were clumsy at best, but I felt a sense of purpose.
As I immersed myself in the training, there was a knock on the door. I glanced towards it and saw Mr. Han, the plumber, standing there, looking tired from his work.
"Here to fix the water," he said, pointing towards the restroom before heading in that direction himself.
I continued my training, focused and determined, executing a series of kicks and punches. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I hissed in discomfort and looked down, only to find a toothpaste cap lying on the floor.
"Kid," I heard someone call my name, and I turned to see Mr. Han standing there. I picked up the toothpaste cap, confused by his actions.
"Did you just hit me with a toothpaste cap?" I asked, seeking an explanation.
Mr. Han shrugged nonchalantly. "You were flailing around like a fish out of water. Thought I'd get your attention," he said, his face deadpan.
I couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks for the heads-up," I said sarcastically.
He ignored my remark and continued talking about the water. "Hot water is fine. Just flip the switch, wait for an hour, and then turn it off," he instructed, his voice weary from his work.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I questioned, "How come you can't leave it on?"
Mr. Han looked at me tiredly, seemingly surprised by my question. "You don't have a switch in America?"
"No, we leave it on," I replied matter-of-factly, causing him to avert his gaze.
"Buy a switch, save the planet," he muttered, his words carrying a hint of frustration.
"What happened to your eye?" he asked, pointing towards my bruised eye.
"I... I ran into a pole," I lied, attempting to brush off the question.
