Sheng Xiao Legends: The Green Dragon

三 / 3. Perfect Gift

"Life is partly what we make it, and partly what it is made by the friends whom we choose."

~ Chinese Proverb

Eight hours earlier...

After taking in a deep breath of humid air, I release my anxieties about Cheng's parents and instead focus on the task at hand. I start by grabbing my bicycle sitting in the garage outside of the apartment. I unlock the chain, snap my helmet on, and pedal onto the street.

Chinatown isn't too far from our apartment in Tribeca. The red lanterns come into view as I pedal closer, and the smell of fried dumplings fills my nose. Along the way, I pass by street vendors selling souvenirs to tourists.

The real treasures are hidden inside of the antique shops. In fact, some of Mr. Wanju's trinkets are over a hundred years old and were handmade by skilled craftsmen. Maybe his tales of "ancient relics" may be embellished just a bit, but I like learning about their history. In addition to working at my dad's dental practice, I do odd jobs for him every now and again.

Deciding to pay him a quick visit, I stop in front of  his store, but the closed sign is up. He rarely misses an opportunity for business. What is even stranger is the handwritten sign hanging below it:

Off to find new treasures!

As I ponder where he might have travelled to, a memory suddenly echoes in the back of my mind. It is clear as crystal, which makes the pain feel fresh. That day, at Mr. Wanju's shop, I learned the difference between fantasy and reality.

Pushing those bittersweet memories out of my mind, I shift my attention to cycling through town. Heat radiates off the pavement, causing my sweat-soaked top to stick against my skin. Fanning myself, I wait for the cars to beep and creep their way through the intersection. A green light finally signals my freedom, and I zoom towards the grocery store.

Once I gather some ingredients for tonight's dinner, I make one last stop at my best friend's comic shop to pick up Cheng's anniversary present--a custom key-chain. She put my order in three days ago, and it arrived just in time.

Finding a gift was the hardest part because Cheng is a billionaire; he can buy anything he wants. I thought about the only thing he doesn't have--as corny as it seems. Maybe this little accessory will motivate him to keep track of his keys more closely.

After parking my bike in front of the store, I chain it up, take my helmet off, and carry my groceries inside. A bell rings as I step through the door. An anime show plays on the TV hanging on the wall while I walk past the shelves filled with superhero merchandise. In the back, I find my friend, Min, sitting behind the glass counter reading a comic with a bored expression on her face.

As I walk closer, I hear the music playing through her Bluetooth speakers. The pounding beat is familiar, but I can barely understand the lyrics because the artist is rapping them so fast.

To grab Min's attention, I tap my knuckles on the counter and ask with a playful smile, "Hey, Minny. What'cha reading?"

"Nothing interesting," she answers without looking up at me. In a monotone voice, she says, "All of these superhero origins are starting to blur together," as she drops the book. She slides it to the side of the counter next to her sketchpad.

"Well, I thought you were working on making your own comic book hero. How's that going?"

She hits the pause button on her phone to stop the music, and her neon-polished fingernails click against ths screen. Each one is decorated with a colorful sticker.