In 2002, my identity divorced: Chinese-American became Chinese | American. Oblivious of the situation, I followed Mom to China for the summer, and packed a few of Sir English’s books into my suitcase as usual. Except, Mom left me there…for two years. Under whose care? Someone I love and hate—the one and only Lady Chinese. 余莉娅. The sharp lines danced before me, taunting. I flinched. Arrogant cold woman, why must you hurt me so? I cannot let her laugh at...

The sound of the whistling kettle warns me to turn off the stove. I carefully take the handle and pour the contents into the celadon teapot. The dry, shriveled tealeaves darken and condense as a thin stream of water circulates the pot. I watch the leaves as they unfold, sacrificing part of themselves to the water, growing and expanding: The Agony of the Leaves. I hear the water bubble as the leaves breathe, our breaths in harmony. A light aroma...