But Cherry was still on his mind.

And though he could no longer see

the logic in driving to Ningbo,

it would at least spare him the sadness

of being in Beijing without her.

The next day, as he was packing for the trip, Mr. Yi came by.

He parked his car next to Weng’s, unaware that his neighbors

would now believe Weng had won a second Rolls-Royce.

“I came to see if you’re really going,” Mr. Yi said.

“You told me it was a good idea.”

“Well it probably isn’t.”

“Why don’t you come with me?” Weng asked him.

“Impossible,” Mr. Yi said. “It’s nothing for you to worry
about—but there are some wrinkles here

that need to be ironed out.”

The wrinkles Mr. Yi was referring to

had come about after the release of Baby Golden Helper.

Soon after the first tricycle went on the market, police stations

across China were inundated with calls

from panic-stricken parents

with reports of toddlers filling their pockets

with candy and riding off into the sunset.

One five-year-old-boy was found

three hundred miles from home

trying to buy diapers with chocolate coins.