Fifteen hours later, the plane slowly landed at the New York airport.
Ethan Bennett walked out of the customs gate, carrying a laptop, dragging a suitcase, and wearing a pair of sunglasses that covered half of his face. Outside the gate, many foreigners were crowded at the railing waiting to pick up people. Zhang Dawei, a tall, blond American, stood on tiptoe, waved at Ethan Bennett with a smile on his face, and called him in stiff Chinese: "Duan! Duan! Here! Come here!"
Ethan Bennett brushed past him and threw the handle of the suitcase to him without looking back: "I'm tired."
... Zhang Dawei's waving arms stiffened for a second, and then he silently picked up the handle of the suitcase.
"Where are there places to eat and rest nearby?"
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