"Oh," Shang Qinghua says, surprised into letting his inside thoughts tumble out. "I thought you'd get mad that I called myself an expert in something. Um, okay." Now he has to actually give advice?? "No, not since when I was a kid, but pretty early in puberty. But I pretty much wasn't out to anyone, in China." He grimaces. It's been thirty-some years since he had to think about being a broke, sweaty, closeted writer in Beijing. No, thank you.