Huaisang inclines his head softly, exchanging the wooden stick for the candied hawthorn for his fan. He idly waves it, looking off towards the Qinghe town center where the lanterns and kites were being hung.

“I was born into wealth and privilege. I had everything I could have ever wanted. I realize how different our lives were, the way you had to struggle to survive and scrimp for every good thing that came your way. I’m not trying to be flippant, or to rub your nose in it.”

It just is what it is — two very, very different worlds.