During the period which te company had been veryprofitable for a while, and the cost control was very loose. Business tripapplications were approved as soon as they were submitted. I miss my hometownso much that I often flied to Shenzhen. Every time I returned to Shenzhen Ididn’t stay in the company’s contracted hotel. Instead, I chose a youth hosteland mingled with backpackers.

Shenzhen’s youth hostel customers were mostly youngpeople from various provinces and cities in China who like to travel on abudget. There were not many European and American backpackers. Many people inwestern world still didn't know that there was a modern metropolis close toHong Kong. Therefore, most backpackers lived in Hong Kong and took a day tripto Shenzhen through the border.

There were some backpacker hostels in Shenzhen inLuohu, Futian and Nanshan, but they were relatively scattered. In everyone'seyes, these backpacker hostels were collective beds, a symbol of cheapness andlow quality. There were few backpackers, few hostels, and there was nobackpacker culture. However, with the development of the economy, nationaltourism had become a popular trend. Under this trend, a form between backpackerhostels and hotels has suddenly emerged and quickly spread all over thecountry, that is, apartments and B&Bs. With the existence of apartments andB&Bs, who would choose collective beds when traveling? This was the Chinesepeople's fascism and hedonism at work. Just thought about it, if you didn'thave the convenience of living in collective beds of the same room, how couldyou communicate with others? The root cause could even be traced back to thenational differences between the East and the West. Westerners valuedcommunication, while Easterners valued privacy. Westerners valued outspokenness,while Easterners were humble. Westerners valued travel experiences, makingfriends, and Easterners took photos and enjoy the scenery.

The first backpacker hostel I stayed in Shenzhen waslocated in a community near Window of the World. It had a large suite with fourbedrooms and one living room. The photos on the Internet were very beautiful.Each room had three bunk beds. The room was clean and tidy. The living roombalcony was beautifully decorated. But in fact, the room was dirty and messy,smelly socks were thrown around, and no one said anything when they returned tothe room. I booked for five days, stayed for one day and left early. Later, Istayed in a capsule apartment in the central area of   Futian. It was very modern and had a uniquestyle, but there were few residents and the closed space further hinderedcommunication between people.

I was a little disappointed with the backpackerculture in Shenzhen. The open communication culture of backpackers was notsuitable for the Chinese character. Later, by chance, a foreign friendmentioned that he liked Sea World. I thought that there were many foreigners inShekou, and maybe there were international backpackers. Through searching, Ifound a backpacker hostel called Moli Garden, a small independent villa locatedin Bay Garden. The second floor was a spacious and bright living room withhigh-definition projection in a large balcony. There were leisure tables andchairs on the balcony, as well as flowers and plants blooming luxuriantly.There were four dormitories on the third floor, two six-person rooms, onefour-person room, and one double room. The boss initially planned to make itgender-neutral, but later found that this model did not work in China. He hadchanged it to separate genders. There was an open space on the roof with a wideview and potted plants placed beside the guardrail, which was often used forparties. It was a five-minute journey from Moli Garden to Sea World. You couldgo to a small bar to drink in the evening. I arrived in Moli at night. The bosswas a returnee from New Zealand. He was a warm, friendly, and diligent person.The living room, bedrooms, corridors, and even the toilets were all clean. Itwas no problem to walk barefoot, I fell in love with it right away.

I met Vicky in Moli Garden. She lived in a doubleroom, which cost 200 yuan per bed. I lived in a six-person room, which cost 80yuan per bed. There were only two foreigners living in this hostel. One isVicky, who was from Doncaster, England. She was studying at a community collegeand worked part-time as a model. She was 1.83 meters tall, blond, long legs,and beautiful. charming. Vicky spent a month in Beijing, Shanghai, and Xi'an,then transferred to Shenzhen and went to Hong Kong. She said that she especiallyliked China because everyone was very friendly to her. Wherever she went, shehad a 100% return rate. Being noticed felt good. But no one in Britain wantedto take a second look at her. As soon as she arrived in Shenzhen, she fell inlove with this vibrant city. Therefore, she changed her itinerary and decidedto spend a few more days in Shenzhen. The other one was a big boy from Latviawho was also traveling to China for tour. He would stay in Shenzhen for twodays and then leave.

Some of the other roommates came from other provincesto look for jobs. Some were students or interns. They spoke stammering Englishand it was difficult to communicate with Vicky. I had no communication problem inEnglish. But once I return to China, I naturally become shy and didn’t dare tostrike up conversations with Vicky. Therefore, the Latvian young man took theadvantage and often went out with Vicky.

The biggest advantage of Moli was that it provided aplace suitable for communication, because the living room was very clean andwarm. Everyone liked to stay in the living room, so communication became amatter of course. I got on well with two people. One was DuSong, from Shandong,who worked as a promoter for a foreign trade company. The other one, XiaoLin,was going to the United States for college after working as an intern inShenzhen for a few months. The turning point came during a late-night snack. Atthe Japanese restaurant bar in Sea World, DuSong, Xiaolin and I had just takena seat and were about to order. DuSong's eyes suddenly lit up and he pointedover there and said to me, Brother Chen, look, Vicky was over there. I lookedover and saw that Vicky and the young man were also having supper. This was nobig deal and I continued looking at the menu. Dusong got excited and told methat he was interested in Vicky and asked me to be his translator. Before Icould respond, DuSong ran to Vicky's table, said a few words in a row, andinvited them to come over and share the table with us.

In the beginning of conversation, I sincerelysupported DuSong and Vicki’s translation. DuSong always asked Vicky personalquestions, such as age, family income, etc., which made me feel inappropriate.Although Vicky didn’t mind, there was still a bit of an atmosphere of awkward.I changed the subject and told Vicky that I had been to England many times andstayed for a long time and was familiar with many cities in England. Vicky'seyes lit up and she asked me for more details. I told her about my travels inLondon, Bath, Oxford, Swindon, and Malmesbury. I said that except for London,British cities were very quiet, and people focused on their homes. Vicky saidthat what I said was not comprehensive and asked me if I had been to northernEngland. I said no. Vicky talked about her hometown, the small town calledDoncaster. In Vicky's description, the people of Doncaster were also Friendlyand bold, the streets and alleys were full of restaurants and bars. When nightfell, people in the whole city were drinking, chatting, dancing, and listeningto music. There was a carnival for them every night. That small town innorthern England has been in my mind from that time on.

Vicki and I were so engrossed in the conversation thatthere was no room for DuSong and the Latvian guy to interrupt. DuSong was alittle angry. He told me in Chinese, "You are really not a goodbrother." I realized I had gone too far, so I told DuSong, “I'm sorry, Icouldn't help myself.” DuSong asked me to drink three glasses of wine as apenalty. So I did. DuSong said that if I got the chance of dating with Vicky,let me invite him to have feast on the top floor of Jingji, and I agreed. AfterDuSong made a fuss, I looked at Vicky with more admiration.

The next day, I took Vicky almost across the entirecity of Shenzhen to have dinner at the revolving restaurant on the top floor ofGuomao building and told her the story about Guomao. After dinner, I took herto the shopping park and bar street. Don’t mind me mentioning bars everywhere.Bar culture has basically penetrated the lives of every European and American,even deeper than the Chinese tea culture. At the LAX bar (now called Sicily),Vicky and I drank and caroused until two in the morning. Many drinkers wereattracted by Vicky's beauty and joined our party. Vicky and I were so closethat the drinkers looked at me in shock, with envy and envy. I like thisfeeling, as if I can fly with my hands open.

After coming out of the bar, I took Vicky to the DaliTea Restaurant in Huanggang Village for a late-night snack. I told Vicky thatthis was the most authentic tea restaurant in Shenzhen, where you could eatauthentic dim sum in Shenzhen. I wished the it wouldn’t get up too early sothat I could show Vicky all the best things in Shenzhen. Vicky also gave me thesame reward. In the taxi, Vicky was very close to me. I reached out my hand andheld Vicky's hand. She did not refuse. Vicky's hand was cool, and her fingerswere long. The skin was soft, I kept holding it and couldn’t bear to let go.

For the sake of me and Shenzhen, which she liked,Vicky delayed her return for another three days. In three days, I took Vicky tovisit the streets and alleys of Shenzhen, the East Overseas Chinese Towns andWest Overseas Chinese Towns, Big Meisha beach and Small Meisha beach, andLianhuashan Park. We spreaded joy in every inch of land we set foot on.

On the day Vicky left, she agreed that I would takeher to Huanggang Port, but she got up early and left secretly by herself. Shesent me a message, saying that she didn’t like the feeling of farewell, that Iwould always be her oriental lover, that she would always remember me. I wouldgo to England to find her when I had the chance.

When I saw the message, my nose felt sour. Iquickly called but her phone was turned. I rushed to Huanggang Port again andsearched back and forth for a few times but couldn't see Vicky. She just left.After Vicky left, I went to Doncaster three times in the following years. Thissmall town with a radius of several kilometers was, as what Vicky said, sodifferent from the south of England. The people were friendly and bold, and thestreets were full of bars. There is a carnival every night. There was no doubtthat I love Doncaster as much as I love Vicky who calls me the oriental lover.