The two left the apartment and chatted as they walked.
"Zack, I heard the security around here isn't that great. Why not find a better place?"
"Well, kid, your guardian's still broke," Zack sighed. "Sure, I've got my law license, but that doesn't mean I've made any real money yet. Once I start earning, we'll move somewhere better, for sure.
"Besides," he added, gesturing around, "it's not that bad here. Most people are folks of color—we look out for each other."
Li Feng didn't argue, but he still muttered, "Well, I hope you start making money soon…"
He'd offered to help with his own money, but Zack had refused.
"Whoa…" Just as they stepped out of the elevator and were heading toward the apartment building's entrance, gunshots rang out in the distance.
"Get down… hide!" Zack barked, grabbing Li Feng and pulling him back into the lobby.
"Oh my god, Zack! This is your idea of good security?" Li Feng said, glancing around nervously.
"Relax, pretty boy. It's safe inside," the heavyset lady at the front desk said with a warm smile, completely unbothered.
Li Feng could only roll his eyes. In the '80s and '90s, Americans—men and women alike—were just too damn chill sometimes.
As the gunfire died down and sirens blared, Li Feng knew the shootout was over. The cops had arrived.
"Damn Mexican punks… the turf wars are heating up again," Zack muttered, standing up and brushing himself off. "Honestly, L.A.'s always been like this. We can't afford the rich neighborhoods, so this is where we are. Gotta deal with it."
"Mexicans? Was it some kind of gang turf war?"
"Exactly. But you don't need to worry about all that. Once I start making real money, we'll get out of here."
"Well, Zack, make money fast, okay? I don't wanna stay in this hellhole any longer than I have to."
Outside, the air still smelled like smoke, and there were a few Mexicans and homeless people hanging around the street corner.
"John, while you're living here, be careful," Zack warned. "Don't go out at night, and even during the day, avoid alleys or quiet streets. There's a mix of Mexicans and Black folks around—best not to get involved if you don't have to."
Li Feng smirked, "Black folks? Including you? I guess I should stay away from you too."
Zack shot him a look. "Hey, kid, that joke's not funny at all. Come on, let's grab something to eat. McDonald's isn't bad."
"Zack, take me to the supermarket afterward. I like Chinese food. I want to buy some ingredients."
"Oh? You know how to cook?"
"Of course! A genius like me can do anything," Li Feng said proudly, pointing at himself.
In truth, he'd spent decades in his previous life learning to cook. Even after ten years of eating American food—burgers, mac & cheese, chips—he still couldn't stand it. Nothing compared to the depth and flavor of Chinese cuisine.
"Well, let's see if you're as much of a genius in the kitchen as you claim."
After dinner, Zack took Li Feng to the nearby supermarket. They had everything—rice, spices, meat, vegetables. Not bad at all.
Back at the apartment, they greeted the cheerful lady at the front desk and returned upstairs.
The area wasn't terrible, actually—lots of shops nearby, convenient public transport. But still…
"Zack, I saw a sign for an internet place near the apartment. Can I go there?"
Li Feng hadn't touched a computer in ages. Having grown up with fast internet and digital convenience, the past fifteen years had been almost torturous. That longing was one reason he'd wanted out of the orphanage.
"Oh, that's run by a Chinese guy. It's not bad. But you're under sixteen… forget it, I'll take you. I'll use the internet too."
"I'm underage. Can I even surf the web?"
"With your lawyer Zack by your side? Don't worry about it."
Zack led Li Feng across the street to what looked like a dim corridor. They climbed to the second floor, where a small internet café—just 30 or so computers—sat quietly.
Li Feng blinked, stunned. It looked just like the sketchy internet cafés from his past life in early 2000s China.
He'd always assumed American internet cafés were high-end. Guess not.
In his past life, he'd never paid attention to these things. In this one, he'd spent his time shuttling between school and the orphanage.
Turns out, there were internet cafés in the U.S., but not many. Computers were cheap here—just a few hundred dollars. Even low-income families would buy their own rather than pay to use one.
Plus, America's internet infrastructure was solid. Even in 1995, home internet was accessible and affordable. That's why cafés never really took off. Most of the ones that existed were run by immigrant communities—like the Chinese.
"Hey, Zack! Long time no see. Where've you been?" A middle-aged Chinese man greeted them warmly.
"Hey, Uncle Yang. Been swamped with work lately. Can you hook us up with two machines?" Zack replied, then nodded toward Li Feng.
"Oh, is this your little brother? Your son?"
"Uncle, come on. Do I look Black to you?" Li Feng chimed in with a grin, speaking in Mandarin.
"You're Chinese?" Uncle Yang asked, surprised. "Didn't expect that."
Li Feng shrugged. "Maybe. I grew up in an orphanage. Zack adopted me. Learned Chinese on my own."
"Impressive. Better than the second-gen kids around here. You're like a real native speaker."
"Hey, John, what are you two talking about?" Zack asked, looking left out.
"Nothing much, Zack. Just impressed to find someone who speaks such good Chinese," Uncle Yang laughed.
"You think his Chinese is good? John, who taught you?"
"Self-taught. It's not that hard."
"Oh my god. Chinese is one of the hardest languages in the world. Now I do believe you're a genius."
"His name's Yang—he moved to the States ten years ago," Zack explained.
"Don't mind him. Just call me Uncle Yang," the man said with a smile.
"Alright, Uncle Yang. Let's get online," Zack cut in, clearly done with all the Mandarin flying around.
Li Feng could tell Zack and Uncle Yang had a good relationship—probably from some legal help Zack had offered in the past.
Once the computers were on, Li Feng sat down in front of the antique-looking machine, nostalgia washing over him.
It was running Microsoft Windows 3.1—complete with a boxy CRT monitor, clunky mouse, and full-sized keyboard. Though Windows 95 hadn't launched yet, Win3.1 already had some of the basic features that would shape the next era.
Thanks to America's infrastructure, it connected straight to the internet—fast enough for its time. Back in China, internet cafés didn't even exist yet. Most schools didn't even have computer labs.
In fact, Li Feng didn't know that internet cafés were just getting started worldwide. The first opened in the UK in 1994. The U.S. followed soon after. Uncle Yang had definitely caught the wave early.
The price wasn't bad either—just $2 an hour. Standard fare for Americans.
Li Feng opened the browser and saw a familiar link on the homepage: "Jerry and David's Guide to the World Wide Web."
He froze.
In Chinese, that was "Jerry and David's Internet Guide."
Every tech-savvy person from the future would recognize that name—the predecessor to Yahoo.
Jerry Yang (Yang Zhiyuan) and David Filo. Legends in the tech world.
Seeing their names and Netscape Navigator in front of him made Li Feng's mind spin. This was just the beginning.