Chapter Twenty-Two: The Statue of Liberty

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The days of being Sun Wukong’s junior disciple passed without any new progress, leaving Liu Yunfei with nothing but a wry smile. It seemed today would be no different; there was nothing to do but take things slowly. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. You shouldn’t stay here; either check into a hotel or buy yourself an apartment.”

“I don’t want to. I’m quite content with my life now. Do you want me to live like some rich lady? I don’t like that, Xiao Yunfei. I feel fulfilled living like this. If you made me stop working or studying, and just idle my days away, that would be true misery. If I need money, I’ll come to you—don’t worry, you’re my Xiao Yunfei.”

“But I really want to do something for you, to give you something,” Liu Yunfei insisted.

“Let’s buy a car, then! It’ll make it easier for me to get to class and go places. You can give me a car, Xiao Yunfei.” Park Minji thought for a moment and said.

“Isn’t that a bit too simple? Alright, but you’ll have to teach me how to drive,” Liu Yunfei replied, knowing that cars were incredibly cheap in America and the process was absurdly easy. Buying a car was nothing special.

“Haha, you’re eighteen and still can’t drive? I told you, you’re Xiao Yunfei,” Park Minji laughed, quickly jumping out of bed and pulling on her clothes and jeans.

“Aren’t you feeling unwell? Are you really okay to go out? Won’t you, you know, have a little… leakage?” Liu Yunfei teased, laughing at Park Minji.

“You rascal! I should kick you!” Raised with the traditional conservative values of Korea, Park Minji was surprised that, in front of her little nemesis Liu Yunfei, she could talk about such embarrassing things without any distaste—in fact, she liked it when he spoke to her this way.

The two giggled and tussled as they ran out of New York University. Not far from campus, they found a dealership specializing in Toyota cars. Park Minji, used to being thrifty, absolutely insisted on buying a cheap Japanese car. Liu Yunfei thought to himself that Germany wasn’t much better, so he’d boycott them too. The Japanese car was only eighteen thousand dollars, and he paid cash.

Insurance could be handled without even meeting anyone; Park Minji just paid with her credit card. Then they drove to the nearest garage to have the new car inspected—there wasn’t much to check since it was brand new. After they received all the documents, they went straight to the transportation department to pick up the license plates. It was extremely simple.

Unable to persuade Park Minji, they ended up having lunch at a Korean restaurant on Fifth Avenue.

“Why do Koreans love kimchi so much?” Liu Yunfei, running out of things to say, asked. Whenever he was with Park Minji, he felt especially talkative, and his thoughts wandered in curious directions.

“Because it tastes good.”

“I don’t think so. I suspect it’s because Korea used to be poor and couldn’t afford fresh produce, so everything was pickled—radishes, cabbage, valuable or worthless, all thrown in jars to ferment, right? Haha.”

“Don’t you dare insult Korean people!” Park Minji raised her tiny fist in mock anger.

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“I’ve read in many reports that Koreans seem very patriotic—refusing to buy Japanese cars, protesting the visits to the Yasukuni Shrine,” Liu Yunfei continued.

“Are Koreans really that patriotic? I’m not sure. Many Koreans actually resent not being American. The reason we don’t buy Japanese cars is because Korean cars are pretty good and cheaper than Japanese ones. Look, I bought a Japanese car t