If this type of authorization does not work for you, convert your account using the link. We were fifteen when we met. We were twenty-five when we parted. Where have those years gone?
I still remember. Every moment spent with you. Do you? He thinks, not for the first time, that if there is anything he will never forgive his father for, it is this. Who in their right mind moves their whole family to another country when they already have a beautifully adjusted life back home? Oh, right. His father. Expand your business to the neighbouring country, decide completely out-of-the-blue to handle that company branch personally, move your whole life there, and drag your unsuspecting family with you.
Never mind that your wife has a job of her own or a teenage son in school with irreplaceable friends. Because businessman are tactless idiots like that. And if that is not gruelling enough, Hangeng has now found himself lost in the streets of Seoul, wandering about aimlessly, trying and failing to remember the route back to the bus station. It has been hard enough getting himself to his new school in one piece β even harder to communicate with his peers in his broken Korean β and now he cannot even make it back home.
He sighs as he turns a corner only to come out onto another street that he does not recognise. He misses China. I give up. With a frustrated scowl, he stomps down the pavement to a wooden bench outside a convenience store and perches down on it, dropping his backpack beside him. Leaning back, he crosses one leg over the other and closes his eyes, allowing himself a futile daydream of being back home, surrounded by his childhood friends, eating the Beijing Fried Rice he is so proud of and loves to cook Give it a chance first, yeah?
The first thing he notices is the smile. It is lopsided and crooked, with just a hint of teeth, set in a round face with deep-set dark eyes that are almost hidden behind a fringe of messy black hair. His smile widens as he holds out something.
