Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

Jen prepared breakfast.

To be precise, it was Jen who asked Marco to prepare it.

When He Xu came downstairs, breakfast was already laid out on the dining table.

A bowl of oatmeal, a glass of orange juice, a plate of sliced ​​fruit, and a pot of coffee on the side.

Jen sat at the other end of the table, a laptop in front of her, typing away.

Hearing footsteps, she looked up at He Xu, her gaze lingering on his face for a second: "You look like you've been beaten up."

"...Thank you." He Xu sat down at the table, picked up a spoon and scooped up a mouthful of porridge. "I can understand that you're scolding me."

"I didn't insult you," Jen said calmly. "I was just stating a fact—didn't you sleep well last night?"

"I slept for two hours."

"That's normal." Jen closed the computer screen. "The first three days of jet lag are the hardest. I suggest you don't sleep during the day, stay up until night, so your biological clock can adjust."

He Xu nodded and lowered his head to drink his porridge.

The oatmeal porridge was cooked just right, neither too thick nor too thin, with a subtle honey flavor, and tasted even better than he had imagined.

He drank most of the bowl, then heard Jen say in English to Marco, who was wiping the table next to him, "He looks better today than yesterday. At least he's eating."

Marco replied in Spanish-accented English, "Jet lag usually hits hardest on the second day. He'll be fine."

He Xu understood the gist of the sentence, but his reaction was a beat slower than usual.

By the time he realized the two people were talking about him in English, the conversation had already ended.

He lowered his head and took another sip of porridge, thinking, "Fine, it's not like I said anything bad."

Over the next few days, He Xu fully experienced what it meant to be "unaccustomed to the local environment".

During the day, he was so sleepy that he could barely keep his eyes open, and his mind felt like it was filled with mush.

She can fall asleep in five minutes sitting on the sofa, start nodding halfway through a meal at the dining table, and even doze off while brushing her teeth at the sink, leaning against the wall.

But at night, he becomes as awake as an owl.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling at 2 a.m., went downstairs to get water at 3 a.m., and paced back and forth in the living room at 4 a.m.

I finally started to feel sleepy at 5 a.m., and then slept until I was woken up by the sun at 9 a.m.

The entire cycle was completely irregular; he felt as if he had been split in two, his body on one side of the Pacific Ocean and his soul on the other.

On the afternoon of the third day, he leaned back on the living room sofa, closed his eyes, and his chest rose and fell slowly.

Sunlight streamed in obliquely through the French windows, warmly enveloping him, and he drifted off to sleep again without realizing it.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard a voice coming from very close by.

"You look like a cat."

He Xu suddenly opened his eyes.

Jiang Yanbai squatted down next to the sofa, less than an arm's length away from him, holding up his phone with the camera on the screen.

He Xu stared at him for two seconds: "...What the hell are you doing?"

"I took a picture of you sleeping." Jiang Yanbai turned his phone over to show him. "You were curled up on the sofa just now, lying on your side, with one hand on your face—you looked just like a cat."

He Xu looked down at his posture.

She was indeed curled up, with her hand on her face.

He lowered his hand, sat up straight, and felt his head still throbbing: "...When did you get back?"

"Just got back." Jiang Yanbai stood up, put his phone back in his pocket, and said, "I didn't wake you because you were sleeping so soundly. But if you sleep so much during the day, you probably won't be able to sleep tonight."

"Mind your own business."

"If I don't care about you, who will?" Jiang Yanbai walked to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, and said, "Change your clothes and I'll take you out for a walk."

"Where to?"

"Supermarket." Jiang Yanbai returned with a water glass. "I can't have my assistant buy you food every day. Go see what you like to eat. There's a supermarket nearby that has a pretty good selection."

He Xu paused for a moment.

He didn't really want to go.

The reason is a little embarrassing—he doesn't really want to go out because he has to talk to strangers.

In Los Angeles, you need to speak English when talking to strangers.

Although he can understand most everyday conversations, he has to go through the sentences in his head before he speaks, and he is much slower than others in organizing his thoughts.

The feeling of being slow to react made him very uncomfortable.

"I don't want to go," He Xu said.

Jiang Yanbai looked at him, as if she could see through his unspoken reason: "You don't want to go because you're afraid you won't speak English well?"

He Xu's eyelashes fluttered: "...No."

"You're just fooling yourself..." Jiang Yanbai sat down in the chair opposite the sofa, holding a water glass, his posture relaxed. "From the first day you arrived here, you've only stayed indoors. Apart from me, Jen, and Marco, you haven't had any social activities. You're telling me this isn't because of the language barrier?"

He Xu stared at him for a few seconds, then looked away: "...I can understand, but I can't speak it well."

"It's enough if you can understand it," Jiang Yanbai said. "If you can't speak it well, just speak slowly. Who's laughing at you? Besides, Americans themselves also use elision and connected speech when they speak. As long as you can understand it, that's fine."

He Xu remained motionless.

Jiang Yanbai looked at him, remained silent for two seconds, then changed her tone, adding a reassuring touch: "Then how about this, I'll go with you. If you want to say anything while you're shopping, you can tell me first, and I'll translate for you, okay?"

"So, with you next to me, am I like a mute?"

"You can be mute if you want," Jiang Yanbai said matter-of-factly. "You've never been one to talk much, and nobody finds you strange if you don't. When you stand there with that face, people just think, 'This person is so cool'—they won't think, 'This person can't talk.'"

He Xu was momentarily speechless after hearing his words, and the corner of his mouth involuntarily twitched: "...What kind of logic is that?"

"Practical logic." Jiang Yanbai stood up, walked to the door, picked up a coat, and said, "Let's go out and get some sun. If you stay cooped up inside any longer, you'll be growing mushrooms by tomorrow."

He Xu sat on the sofa and watched Jiang Yanbai standing in the entrance hall waiting for him. He was already wearing his coat and holding his car keys.

He paused for three seconds, then stood up and picked up his black coat: "...Just going to the supermarket."

"Okay, just to the supermarket."