It eventually became easier for Weng to leave his father home

where he could keep warm and listen to the television.

But Mr. Fun was soon bored
and wanted to go out in the evenings.

Weng trailed him through the hutong district at twilight,

through the sizzle of woks and the calling out;
past grocers packing their vans,

and the song of bells as parents pedaled home to their children.

He kept a close eye as Mr. Fun stopped every now and then
to turn around and look.

He once told his son:

“The greatest treasure of our lives cannot be seen,
or held, or touched.”