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When they decided to enjoy a rare day off and take a break from work, they discovered the real tragedy of Los Angeles.

Anyone who wanted to visit South California had to forget those postcard pictures of the blue sky and the green ocean designed to appeal to tourists living at high altitudes.

A person residing there or a traveller who would like to visit the Walk of Fame had to put up with two things.

One was the terrible traffic jam, and the other was the haze.

In 2003, when the sky above Beijing had still been clean and blue, Los Angeles had already been foggy. As a result, Qin Guan had to abandon public transportation and rent a bike.

In Los Angeles, the bicycle was the fastest and most convenient transportation vehicle. The temperature that day was a surprising 33 degrees, which was a miracle for July.

Qin Guan was happily riding a double bike with Cong Nianwei along the jammed road. As they passed the cars one by one, he saw the people in them looking at him with the same sympathetic expression in their eyes.

In five minutes, they realized why.

The air humidity was so high, that they felt like they were sitting in a sauna. Their clothing was soaked with sweat and water, making them feel really uncomfortable.

As the trip advocate, Qin Guan could only pedal with all his energy. Finally, they stopped at the crowded Walk of Fame.

"Excuse me? Where can I park my bike?" he asked the staff with a smile.

The young man burst into laughter and pointed to the parking lot.

Qin Guan turned to Cong Nianwei proudly. "I must be getting more and more attractive these days. Everyone is enchanted by my smile."

Cong Nianwei burst into laughter. "Stop showing off! Wait..." She took a mirror out of her backpack and handed it to him.

His face was half-pale and half-tanned, because he had been wearing a helmet and a pair of sunglasses. It was so funny!

"Yes, you are really attractive... Now clean your face with a tissue!"

Qin Guan wiped his face sloppily and winked at Cong Nianwei. "It doesn’t matter. We’ll get washed later!" What do you mean?

Before Cong Nianwei could figure it out, Qin Guan pulled her towards the Walk of Fame.

That tourist attraction was a must for visitors. There were more than 2,500 refined waterstone and brass stars on the 18-block street, standing in memory of great figures of the entertainment circle, including actors, musicians, directors, producers, bands, drama groups, fictional characters, and so on.

Qin Guan had chosen the Walk of Fame as their first stop.

They searched carefully among the stars for the only three Chinese names: Anna May Wong, Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan.

The two men were very famous, but as a romantic woman, Cong Nianwei was more interested in the Chinese actress. Even Qin Guan had to admit that she was the epitome of mysterious oriental beauty.

In the 1900s, the Chinese had been considered third-class citizens in America, inferior even to black people. However, the ordinary girl had earned her own spot in the film circle of Los Angeles through hard effort. No words could describe her life properly. In an era when communications had been underdeveloped, she had had fans and admirers in all European countries, which had been no small feat.

She had been the first Chinese person to get a star on the Walk of Fame.

Qin Guan caressed the pink star gently with his fingers as he looked at Cong Nianwei proudly.

"One day, I will have a star here. My name will be on this very road."

Coming back to her senses, Cong Nianwei told Qin Guan, "I have faith in you, but I’ve heard that the owner has to pay a maintenance fee to the Hollywood Historical Fund. It’s about 15,000 dollars..."

Qin Guan stood up immediately. "This is not urgent. It can wait till later!"

The two of them left, laughing happily.

"I’m not lying... I’m rich..." said the boy.

The tourists thought that the couple looked familiar.

"Was that the boy from the newspaper?"

"It seems so. What about the girl? She seems successful..."

Successful? She was Ms. Right herself!