In the year Lin Qile graduated from elementary school, she often recorded nightmares in her diary.
Her little rabbit had died, her friends had all left, she went to and from school alone, and the Qunshan construction site was to be demolished…
On New Year’s Eve 2004, Lin Qile suddenly awoke from a nightmare.
She sat up in bed, eyes wide, breathing rapidly. She had dreamed again of the Provincial Experimental Affiliated High School and the faces of so many people.
Lin Qile felt confused: Why?
Lin Qile had always lived on the construction site, under the protection of the power plant elementary school and her parents.
Perhaps as people grow up and step out of their homes, their nightmares at night also grow larger, moving beyond Qunshan into a broader world Lin Qile had never experienced.
After returning to Qunshan from the provincial capital, Lin Qile’s days were quite unsettled for a while. Despite her father’s pleas, the teachers at Qunshan No. 1 Middle School gave her a warning and notified the whole school for missing two consecutive days of classes. Lin Qile stood in the office with her head down, being reprimanded. During her two-day absence, the class mailbox had been filled with letters, nine out of ten being friendship requests from young readers of “Manga Party” across the country addressed to “The Invincible Little Flying Ace Lin Qile of the Universe.”
Now these letters were piled on the homeroom teacher’s desk like a bunch of meaningless paper trash.
“Your goal now is to study hard! You’re already in the second year of junior high, Lin Qile. Look at your grades, how many places have you fallen behind since you entered school? You’re at the bottom now! Look at the other students, who aren’t working hard. And you went to the Provincial Experimental Affiliated High School? Which of their students isn’t studying hard? Who has time to bother with you? Still making friends, still writing friends! ship! letters!”
The homeroom teacher slammed a stack of letters on the desk. Perhaps seeing Lin Qile keeping her head down and sobbing without speaking, she also felt somewhat helpless.
This girl, who never studied properly and always seemed lost in thought, could be brought to tears with just a few words.
“You’re still young,” the homeroom teacher looked up and said earnestly to Lin Qile, “Let me tell you, life is long. At such a young age, most friends you make will part ways in the future. Only studying hard is the right path for you, which will give you a truly meaningful future. Think about it carefully!”
Lin Qile sat at her desk and turned on the lamp. She tore off the reader feedback form from the latest issue of “Manga Party” and wrote with a mechanical pencil: “I’m sorry, I’m Lin Qile from Qunshan No. 1 Middle School. I received many letters from children, but the teacher said I wouldn’t get the letters back until I graduated from junior high. Thank you, children, for writing to me. I’m sorry, but I can’t be pen pals with you…”
She couldn’t imagine if anyone would be waiting for her reply as eagerly as she once waited for Jiang Qiaoxi’s.
Lin Qile opened her drawer and took out a piece of notepaper, spreading it on the desk.
She wrote:
Jiang Qiaoxi, I didn’t write you a love letter. The last one wasn’t a love letter, and neither is this one. It’s just that I haven’t seen you for a long time. Du Shang and the others call me, but you don’t. That’s why I write to you. I’m not the kind of person they say I am. I don’t like you, and I’m not clinging to you. Jiang Chulu has nothing to do with you either; I just drew it for you to see.
Lin Qile couldn’t help crying again. She wrote very slowly, word by word:
“I didn’t go to the provincial capital to find you. I went to see Yu Qiao and Du Shang and just happened to run into you. I won’t write to you or call you anymore. I won’t affect your studies.”
Lin Qile had thought she would soon receive a call from Du Shang or Qin Yeyun. They would say on the phone, Lin Yingtao, we’ve all read the letter you wrote to Jiang Qiaoxi. You didn’t write him a love letter, you’re not clinging to him, and you’re not disturbing his studies.
But a month passed, then two months… Nothing happened. When Du Shang called her, Lin Qile casually asked, and Du Shang hesitated: “Jiang Qiaoxi? I don’t know. Fei Linge and the others haven’t been opening the letters in Jiang Qiaoxi’s desk lately.” Du Shang suddenly realized, “Yingtao, you didn’t write to him again, did you?”
Lin Yingtao said, “No, I didn’t write.”
Mom and Dad didn’t particularly criticize Lin Yingtao for her “provincial capital trip.” Dad just said not to go to such far places alone anymore.
“You’re still young. Your mom and I didn’t know anything. The provincial capital is so big; before we found you, we were so worried we couldn’t eat… In the future, if you want to go somewhere or if you encounter any difficulties, Yingtao, you need to tell Mom and Dad. Otherwise, how can we help you? You’re still so young, who else can you rely on?”
Mom, while doing laundry one day, sat on the steps in the backyard during the intervals of the washing machine’s humming. She suddenly started telling Lin Yingtao about how she and Electrician Lin met and fell in love on the construction site.
“We were just colleagues then,” Mom hugged her daughter. Yingtao had grown up and taller, not as easy to hold as when she was little. “I never thought I’d marry him!”
Lin Yingtao rested her forehead on her mother’s chest. Mom’s body was so warm.
“Sometimes, when friends stay together for a long time, it’s easy to confuse whether it’s friendship or ‘love.'” Mom’s sudden mention of this word made Lin Yingtao’s body stiffen.
“Sometimes, when you see someone so special, so different, like suddenly seeing a black rabbit among a group of white ones,” Mom said, “this sense of novelty is often mistaken for ‘love.'”
“Mom,” Lin Yingtao opened her eyes wide and asked, “Isn’t what Jiang Qiaoxi and I have ‘love’?”
Mom was silent for a moment.
Lin Yingtao said: “I’m happy when I’m with him, and I always think about him when we’re apart. I want to marry him and live with him. Isn’t all this ‘love’?”
“Yingtao,” Mom sighed with a smile, “you’re still too young.”
“You used to say you wanted to marry Yu Qiao, Chen Minghao, your cousin, and even your dad,” Mom laughed.
“Huh?” Lin Yingtao was completely confused.
“Don’t you remember?” Mom asked, smiling.
There are ten thousand ways to like someone. Some come from familial love, some from friendship, some from shared adventures – thrilling and unforgettably joyful experiences. Some arise from gratitude, shared interests, or a period of companionship… That’s why people come together. Only kindergarteners use “marriage” to interpret everything at the drop of a hat.
“So… I might not actually ‘like’ Jiang Qiaoxi?” Lin Yingtao asked.
Mom looked down at her daughter. Since Manager Jiang’s son transferred back to the provincial capital, Yu Qiao, Du Shang, and the others all moved away, and since the Qunshan construction site gradually began to be demolished, she had seen all of Yingtao’s emotional lows.
Yingtao was growing up, encountering some setbacks on her path of growth. This was inevitable.
“Our emotions are like water,” Mom held Yingtao’s hand, opening her small palm. The sky above the backyard was gradually darkening. “When a drop of water falls into your palm, you can’t tell if it’s dew or rain. Only when you grow up and become a worldly adult will you slowly be able to tell the difference.”
“Mom, haven’t I grown up yet?”
“You’re still little. Do you admit that you’re still small?”
In April 2004, news of SARS came from Beijing again. Lin Yingtao celebrated her birthday with her parents; she turned fourteen.
She called her aunt’s family in Beijing from Qunshan, saying she wanted to visit her aunt, uncle, and cousin in Beijing.
Her aunt was overjoyed: “You little girl are something else now. Before, you went to the provincial capital alone, and now you want to come to Beijing!”
Lin Yingtao said: “Auntie, you used to say I was brave!”
Auntie said: “You little girl, you don’t know how dangerous it is outside. Beijing is having an outbreak now, don’t come, don’t come!”
During the summer vacation of 2004, Mom and Dad were working at the construction site, and Lin Yingtao was alone at home. With no children coming to play with her, she talked to her Polly Pocket dolls. She arranged a grand wedding for Barbie and the evergreen plant, which lasted from morning till night. Lin Yingtao sat on the bamboo mat, playing the recorder to celebrate the newlyweds. She only knew how to play “Two Tigers,” but it sounded festive enough.
The summer homework was quickly finished. Lin Yingtao turned on the computer, where almost every game had Jiang Qiaoxi’s saved files, and his scores were on every leaderboard. Lin Yingtao tried playing a few times but couldn’t erase his name. She simply turned off the computer.
Just a week into the summer vacation, Lin Yingtao voluntarily signed up for a tutoring class. She told her parents she wanted to study hard now.
Her deskmate Geng Xiaoqing still often pestered Lin Yingtao about those boys: Yu Qiao, Du Shang, Cai Fangyuan… especially stories about Yu Qiao, which she always wanted to hear.
But Lin Yingtao focused on solving problems, not letting herself be disturbed even during breaks.
Only during PE classes would Lin Yingtao tell Geng Xiaoqing a few things. She didn’t have many stories left about Yu Qiao; after three years, she had told almost everything.
Geng Xiaoqing, hugging a volleyball, said: “Yingtao, are you going to high school in the provincial capital?”
Lin Yingtao said: “I don’t know.”
“Then do you know which high school Yu Qiao… will go to?” Geng Xiaoqing asked.
Lin Yingtao shook her head: “I don’t know.”
Geng Xiaoqing said: “My parents agreed to let me move to the provincial capital!”
Lin Yingtao responded slowly: “Huh?”
Geng Xiaoqing said: “I won’t go now, I’ll go to high school.”
Lin Yingtao lowered her head.
The word “provincial capital” no longer frightened Lin Yingtao.
“Then I’ll call Yu Qiao. It would be great if you ended up in the same school!” Lin Yingtao said.
Geng Xiaoqing asked, Yingtao, do you have a boy you like?
Lin Yingtao finished PE class and bent down to wash her face under the water pipe. She shook her head, wanting to return to the classroom to continue solving problems.
Geng Xiaoqing wondered: “Why have you become so focused on studying?”
At the end of 2004, Lin Yingtao asked for three days off from school. She accompanied her parents back to their hometown.
Her aunt’s family also rushed over from Beijing.
At fourteen, Lin Yingtao attended a funeral for the first time.
Her grandfather had passed away.
People in their hometown said that Old Lin had lived a peaceful and smooth life, his children were filial, and he hadn’t suffered from any major illnesses. This was a “happy funeral.” But Lin Yingtao didn’t understand how there could be happiness when someone had died.
Electrician Lin didn’t show particularly great grief. In Lin Yingtao’s memory, Dad had always been that very calm person. Any disaster that seemed earth-shattering to Lin Yingtao was nothing to Dad. Dad would always face all difficulties with a smile.
Instead, it was her aunt who was more emotionally affected, with Electrician Lin, as the younger brother, constantly taking care of his sister. When kneeling before the spirit tablet, the siblings supported each other.
On the train back to Qunshan from their hometown, Electrician Lin suddenly said to Lin Yingtao:
“Dad is now a person without a father,” Electrician Lin held Yingtao’s hand and said, “Yingtao is still young, there’s still a lot of happiness… Dad can always take care of you…”
The scenery outside the window was quickly thrown behind by the speeding train, giving people no chance to linger or catch their breath. Lin Yingtao didn’t even fully hear her father’s words.
Dad said that living is like being a silkworm, a snake, or a crab. When the time comes, one must start shedding their shell. Only by letting go of some things and forgetting can one travel light and continue to live better.
Lin Qile wondered if there was anyone who didn’t need to shed their shell. She sat in class, looking at the photo of an amber specimen in her biology textbook.
That insect from millions of years ago was tightly encased in the center of the pale yellow resin.
If people don’t shed their shells, they won’t be able to fly. If they stubbornly stay in one place, they’ll slowly suffocate like this insect.
People should be fluid, and human emotions should also be fluid, an endless flow of living water that nourishes the soul drop by drop.
Lin Qile stood on the edge of that cliff, small pebbles scraping off from under her shoes and falling far down the precipice.
Looking down, there was a deep, dark valley. Looking ahead was the other side of the cliff that Lin Qile had never reached in all these years.
Lin Qile was fifteen now. She lifted her head and looked up.
She stepped on the thick pine needles beneath her feet, feeling the high-hanging sunlight piercing through the dense forest and shining on her face.
At nine years old, Lin Qile had solemnly told her little friends here: “If we make up our minds and muster the courage to jump, wings will grow from our backs, and we’ll be able to fly!”
Lin Qile looked at the small path on the other side of the cliff. She turned around alone and walked down the mountain path. The Qunshan construction site was about to start its final demolition. Lin Qile wanted to pick a sunflower to take with her to the provincial capital.
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Our Generation – Chapter notes:
SARS: Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) first appeared in Shunde, Guangdong, China in 2002 and spread to Southeast Asia and globally. It was a global epidemic that was gradually eliminated by mid-2003.