When the bank manager heard what was happening,

he rushed out of his office to insist that Fun Weng

have lunch or dinner with him.

But Weng said he had vegetables to sell.

For the next few days after work,

Weng walked the parks near his district,

listening to old songs and wondering

what his parents would have done

with all the money now sitting in the Abacus Bank

like a mountain of gold coins.

Other people would have been exhilarated,

Weng considered one afternoon

as he wrapped the last bundles of bok choy.

A cool wind made him think of the fall songs that would soon
get people ballrooming in Tiantan park.

At least the mannequins in Chanel still excited him,

though not because he imagined one coming to life anymore,

but because there were so many beautiful things

he could now afford to buy Cherry.