The figure reflected on the glass was translucent, swaying lightly.
The dim indoor light spilled through the window, barely illuminating half the street. By its glow, she saw a massive dark shadow fall across the road and crash onto the roof of a car.
An alarm immediately blared.
"What was that sound?" came the voice on the phone.
"A tree broke and crushed a car," Yin Guo covered her left ear to hear her friend over the noisy music. "This blizzard is terrifying. Do you know how cold it is now? Minus twenty-five."
"Who told you to go there in winter? I warned you," Zheng Yi yawned but still managed to mock her. "Blizzards are common in New York winters. You're on your own."
Yin Guo didn't even have the energy to complain: "I haven't showered in three days and nights. You have to help me book a hotel tonight."
"Hold on, I'm still checking."
The call ended.
Exhausted, Yin Guo returned to her cousin Meng Xiaotian: "Wait a bit. Zheng Yi is looking for hotels and will message me soon."
Meng Xiaotian, thoroughly enjoying himself, didn't care: "If it comes to it, we can just party here all night."
She wasn't as energetic as Meng Xiaotian and slumped onto the bar counter, glancing outside.
Who would have thought she'd encounter the worst blizzard in a decade?
First, their flight was delayed for ten hours at the capital airport before crossing the vast ocean to New York. Due to the blizzard, the plane couldn't land and circled for over two hours before diverting to Chicago.
That night, all hotels in Chicago were fully booked, and the airline couldn't arrange accommodations.
The siblings spent the night in the terminal—one on a bench, the other on the floor—along with a crowd of stranded passengers waiting for the next day's flight. The following morning, after freshening up in the airport restroom, they eagerly prepared to depart. But they waited from dawn till dusk before finally boarding a flight to New York.
This time, luck was on their side, and they landed.
As soon as the plane stopped, the flight attendant announced that there were no available gates in New York, and no one could disembark until the airport made arrangements.
The group, who had already spent the entire night in the airport, now dozed off again on the plane.
Six hours later, they were awakened by the announcement, bleary-eyed and groggy, queuing to disembark.
After getting off the plane, Yin Guo sat on a luggage cart, waiting for their bags until she fell asleep again. By dusk, their luggage finally appeared on the conveyor belt. Just when she thought she saw a glimmer of hope, the hotel called: both rooms had been canceled due to their no-show.
Standing at the immigration checkpoint, she nearly burst into tears.
Fortunately, a Chinese-American girl who had also slept at the Chicago airport stopped her after clearing customs. The girl said her family was picking her up and advised Yin Guo that hailing a taxi in such a blizzard would be nearly impossible. She suggested Yin Guo hitch a ride with her to Manhattan—better than staying at the airport.
Thanks to this kind stranger, Yin Guo and her cousin were dropped off here.
Despite the relentless blizzard outside, at least there was alcohol and food.
Someone pushed open the frosted glass door behind her.
A frigid wind ruthlessly swept across the back of her neck. Yin Guo shivered and pulled her down jacket collar higher.
Meng Xiaotian also tightened his coat: "This is so messed up. Feels like we've stepped into The Day After Tomorrow ."
Honestly, it really did.The day after tomorrow's filming location was New York—the frozen Statue of Liberty, cruise ships washed ashore, and the library that saved everyone... Yin Guo loved disaster movies and had watched this particular one seventeen or eighteen times. She never imagined she'd witness the scenes recreated in reality.
Right now, her phone showed the outdoor temperature at -25°C. With the wind chill, it felt like -40°C. They had come wearing their thickest down jackets, but even those were no match for this weather.
Just unloading their luggage from the car had nearly frozen them to death.
Yin Guo placed her phone in front of Meng Xiaotian, instructing him to keep an eye out for Zheng Yi's messages. After that, she pulled the hood of her down jacket over her head, rested her arms on the bar counter, and laid her head on them, closing her eyes to rest.
"It's really freezing," Meng Xiaotian muttered beside her like a chant.
Half-asleep, Yin Guo caught the aroma of grilled chicken wings in front of her. She wanted to eat but couldn't muster the energy to move.
The band on stage began playing an old song, its melody soothing—like scorching sunlight, clear skies, and every summer scene imaginable. During a break in the music, the lead singer softly confessed in English that he was singing for a girl he admired. He was deeply drawn to her, utterly infatuated, head over heels in love, yet too timid and shy to approach her, unsure how to bridge the distance—
It was Yellow .
"Jie," Meng Xiaotian called her.
"Hmm," Yin Guo responded.
"Xiao Guo," Meng Xiaotian nudged her, as if something urgent had come up.
Summoning the last of her strength, Yin Guo lifted her head and opened her eyes.
In her blurred vision, something unfamiliar appeared—a glass of alcohol.
And, of course, the man behind the glass.
He was young. His upper body was clad in black cold-proof clothing, with a black hood obscuring the length of his hair—though it definitely wasn’t long. His pupils were pitch-black, his skin fair, his face lean with a sharp chin. His nose wasn’t as high-bridged as a Westerner’s, but it was still well-defined.
Asian? Probably.
Chinese? Hard to say—he hadn’t spoken yet.
"This is for you," the man said.
Huh? Chinese?
Yin Guo pushed back her hood and sat up straight. Just as she was about to speak, another Chinese-looking man with glasses approached and placed a second glass in front of Meng Xiaotian. "This one’s yours."
"Ah, this is too kind," Meng Xiaotian chuckled sheepishly.
"Don’t mention it," the bespectacled man said. "We’re fellow countrymen, after all."
Meng Xiaotian immediately introduced Yin Guo to them. "This is my sister."
Did they know each other? Impossible. This was Meng Xiaotian’s first time in New York.
Yin Guo shot her cousin a questioning look.
"While you were on the phone earlier, they came in and sat at the table next to me," Meng Xiaotian explained. "I heard them speaking Chinese, so I casually asked what drinks were good here."
Yin Guo understood now.
The bespectacled man smiled and asked, "You two couldn’t find a hotel? Stuck here?"
In this weather, no one would willingly lug three freshly tagged suitcases to a bar just for fun. It was a reasonable guess that the siblings were stranded.
"Yeah, we booked a hotel, but it got canceled. Now we’re waiting for a friend to help us find one," Meng Xiaotian volunteered. "Hopefully, we’ll get one. If not, we can just stay here till morning—there’s food and drinks, at least."
The bespectacled man grinned. "He called a car. If you can confirm a hotel, we’ll drop you off first."
The "he" he referred to was naturally the man who had barely spoken."That's great," Meng Xiaotian was overjoyed.
"Wait till you actually book it," the bespectacled man said with a laugh. "If it's early, you can follow his car. If not, I’ll take you myself. The subway here goes everywhere—you can get to most places."
Meng Xiaotian happily raised his glass. "Thanks, bro."
"No problem," the bespectacled man clinked glasses with him.
The two chatted happily.
The man sat at a small round table next to theirs, ordering snacks and sipping his drink while watching the band perform.
Unlike her naturally sociable cousin, Yin Guo kept her head down, idly staring at her drink to pass the time.
Her cousin’s drink was milky white, while hers was clearly made for women—orange with small fruit pieces floating in it. Curious, she sniffed it; the alcohol scent wasn’t strong. She stirred it with a straw, examining the liquid closely.
Suddenly, she noticed the man glancing at her with amusement.
It was as if he was saying: Afraid there’s something in it?
Yin Guo let go of the straw, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear in an attempt to play dumb.
Her phone vibrated—a message from Zheng Yi popped up.
Thank heavens. It was a screenshot of a hotel booking and a contact number, followed by a text: There aren’t many rooms available in Manhattan, and they’re ridiculously expensive. I booked you one in Queens—the last one. Hurry, they’ll only hold it for two hours.
Yin Guo nudged Meng Xiaotian’s arm and showed him the phone.
"Awesome," Meng Xiaotian exclaimed, turning to the bespectacled man. "We got it."
"That was quick," the man praised. "Your friend must be reliable. Where’s the hotel?"
Meng Xiaotian handed him the phone.
The bespectacled man shook his head and placed Yin Guo’s phone in front of the other man. "How long till your car gets here?"
"Ten minutes."
The man spoke his second sentence of the night.
"That’s soon," Meng Xiaotian set down his glass. "I’ll hit the restroom first."
"I’ll come with you," the bespectacled man said, leading Meng Xiaotian away.
Now, only Yin Guo and the man remained.
Yin Guo had been texting Zheng Yi the whole time, reporting that they’d met two Chinese men who seemed friendly, had bought them drinks, and even offered them a ride to the hotel. Though touched, she was also worried about safety and quietly discussed with Zheng Yi whether there might be any danger. Zheng Yi’s take was— No scammer would be working in this godforsaken weather, but you never know—there might be some wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Zheng Yi: Just be careful. Try to learn more about them.
Yin Guo locked her phone.
Holding the straw, she slowly stirred her drink and glanced at the man at the next table, just a step away from her.
Soon, he sensed her gaze and looked back.
"Are you a student?" Yin Guo asked politely. "Or do you work here?"
"Student," the man replied.
"NYU?"
He shook his head.
Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, he guessed her unease. "Afraid I’m a bad guy?"
Yin Guo smiled sheepishly but didn’t deny it.
The man reached into his pocket, pulled out a wallet, and took out a Chinese ID card, placing it on the bar in front of her. Then, he took out a magnetic card and set it beside his ID.
"This is my school’s magnetic card," he pointed to the name on it. "You can check."
He then gestured to his face, letting her compare it to the photo.
Normally, he didn’t carry his ID—it just happened to be on him today for an earlier errand. Who knew it’d come in handy here?Yin Guo's gaze dropped, first landing on the magnetic card.
Getown University? Zheng Yi had one too—she'd seen it before. So he was Zheng Yi's alumni?
Yin Guo remembered that Zheng Yi's school had an excellent location, situated in the affluent district of Washington D.C. It was a prestigious university with steep tuition fees. This card didn't look fake. The ID card seemed pretty genuine too.
The personal photo on the magnetic card matched the one on the ID, and the names were identical.
Should she verify this with Zheng Yi? How? Take a photo and send it over?
That would be too disrespectful—better not.
Yin Guo stacked the ID card and magnetic card together, about to return them, when the man reached into the inner pocket of his cold-proof clothing again—
What else was he going to pull out?
Under Yin Guo's puzzled gaze, the man took out his phone, unlocked the screen, and opened the photo album. Soon, he turned the screen toward her, displaying the information page of his passport. The name was the same:
Lin Yiyang
LIN, YIYANG
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