One

When Yan Song knelt before her uncle with a thud, her young monk uncle didn’t even lift his eyelids as he tapped his wooden fish drum.

“Buddha, please help me,” the young lady clutched his gray kasaya, sobbing and sniffling.

“What troubles you, devotee?” The fair and handsome Buddha spoke gently, though his tone lacked sincerity as he softly pulled back his robe.

“Buddha, I’ve fallen for two boys, and I don’t know who to choose.”

“Devotee…”

“Buddha, it’s like this – A is a senior from my department who also works part-time as a priest, so I often go to him for confession. I complain about my two overly popular brothers and how, because of them, I face pressure, sweet talk, and favoritism from other girls that someone my age shouldn’t have to deal with. I don’t even know if my popularity comes from having two good brothers or my charm.”

“Devotee, in this humble monk’s opinion, your popularity comes from your second brother, after all, he’s better looking. Your eldest brother, honestly, is too ugly – carved from the same mold as your father, truly… ugly.”

“Buddha, that’s not the point. The point is that Senior A always patiently and gently consoles me, so I gradually fell for him. Then, on the day I was going to confess, I met Schoolmate B. He quietly ate a bowl of spicy hotpot in front of me – yes, I was eating spicy hotpot too, and that place’s hotpot is quite good. But while I was eating with a snotty nose and oily mouth, he ate with perfect grace and an ethereal air. He was… the most elegant hotpot-eating boy I’d ever seen. So, I fell for B too… Now I like both Senior A and Schoolmate B, so Buddha, what should I do?”

The Buddha gently stroked his niece’s fair little face, so young and adorable. He asked her: “In this humble monk’s view, matters should be simple and easy, and the heart should be light and calm. The more difficult path isn’t necessarily the right one. So, here’s the question – between A and B, who likes you?”

The young lady wiped her nose on the kasaya, just as she did in childhood, and earnestly told the Buddha before her: “Actually, probably, maybe… actually, neither of them likes me. So, Buddha, what should I do?”

The Buddha remained silent for a long while, closing his eyes. After some time, he slowly opened them and said tenderly: “For those who don’t like you, your uncle will curse them to become toads in their next life. Let them get lost, silly girl.”

Two

After consulting the Buddha, Yan Song returned to school troubled. Her alma mater was also her mother’s alma mater, but while her mother’s name was still engraved in the school’s history, her name was just a name. Yan Song resembled her mother in looks and personality, but her academic performance fell far short of her genius mother. Having been spoiled too much by her father’s doting heart since childhood, she studied less and less diligently. After the college entrance exam, she barely made it into Z University, studying an equally marginal major – Philosophy.

The Philosophy Department had always produced eccentrics. Legend had it that in Z University’s history, three and a half people went mad – three from Philosophy and half from the Law School, Philosophy’s unchanging neighbor of a hundred years. As they say, the environment shapes personality.

The Philosophy students unanimously believed that Yan Song had a bewildered face – “bewildered” being the polite way to put it. It was a face that seemed perpetually confused.

For instance, like this: “Yan Song, do you prefer Nietzsche, Rousseau, Hegel, Voltaire, or Aristotle? Nietzsche is too wild, Rousseau too idealistic, Voltaire lacking in personal virtue, Hegel I think is over-hyped, and Aristotle was born in the wrong era – what do you think?”

Yan Song: *confused*

Or like this: “This era is flattered as an age of freedom – ideals are free, love is free, there’s great choice in food, clothing, housing, and transportation. But in the end, ideals can’t be realized, love still looks to money and power, and though everything offers choices, nothing is affordable, still limited by ability. And since human ability is related to genetic inheritance, could it be that freedom is forever just empty talk? Though the soil for equality and justice has been prepared, due to poor seeds it can only become a fashionable concept. So what meaning is there in our progress? The advancement of thought is far from saving humanity – what do you think, Yan Song?”

Yan Song: *confused*

Or like this: “Yan Song, I discussed it with my parents yesterday. Although your mom is an academician and your dad is a legendary figure, and both your brothers are very outstanding, although your family is prominent, and although you’re marginally presentable-looking, we unanimously feel you’re somewhat stupid and not bright enough in social interactions. You’re not compatible with me. So, I’m unilaterally informing you that I’ve decided to stop having a secret crush on you. Please don’t harass me in the future.”

Yan Song: *confused*

Of course, the most common was this: “Yan Song, what does your eldest brother like to eat, and wear, what movies does he watch, what music does he listen to? What, your eldest brother has a girlfriend? Oh never mind, so tell me what your second brother likes to eat, wear, what movies does he watch, what music does he listen to?”

Yan Song: “…”

Given how frequently such characters appeared, Yan Song often went to confess to a senior who claimed to have been baptized at a theological seminary. The senior was as gentle as a spring breeze and as handsome as pine and willow. He could understand everything she said and respond to every comment. Each word of comfort was like a firm iron, making one’s heart feel settled.

But there was one problem.

The senior’s surname was Gu.

Her father had said, “If you meet anyone with the surname Gu at school, run away immediately, silly.”

“Why, Papa?”

“Because our family has a blood feud with the Gu family.”

Although Senior Gu’s eyes sparkled like stars, his lips were red and teeth white and tempting, and the way he looked at her seemed to encourage confession, but… she couldn’t disobey her father’s words. So young Yan Song kept hesitating about whether to confess and how to confess, until one day, while listening to music and walking downstairs, she stumbled and fell into Senior Gu’s arms. Their eyes met, the atmosphere thick as wine, feelings mellow as tea, and the young lady felt the moment had come. For Romeo, why not be Juliet?

She stayed up for three nights and wrote a love letter. The letter said: “No one has ever seriously said, ‘Yan Song, you’re an adorably radiant girl,’ but you did; no one has ever had serious conversations with me just because Yan Song is Yan Song, not for any other reason, but you did; no one has ever seriously told me, ‘Yan Song, look, spring has come, the wind is fresh but not clingy, the sparrows though gray are plump, the grass has turned green and flowers have budded, everyone wears peaceful smiles. We pursue our efforts, and more so the essence of life, isn’t that wonderful?’

“I worked on a proof to determine whether I can like you, and here’s the answer:

“Either it’s permissible and I like you, or it’s impermissible and I like you.

“Therefore, whether permissible or not, I like you.”

Yan Song believed she had written a deeply moving love letter, and the script seemed proper and formal. She planned to slip it into Senior Gu’s desk drawer during the empty evening, but the time it took to eat a bowl of spicy hotpot changed the course of this romantic affair.

Yan Song ate a bowl of spicy hotpot on her way to the classroom. A roadside table with one broken leg, and two people sitting opposite each other. The person across from her also ate a bowl of spicy hotpot, but it was a simple bowl – compared to Yan Song’s bowl piled high like a mountain with beef balls, fish balls, plus fish tofu and instant noodles, that bowl only had vegetables and radish.

But Yan Song thought the hotpot across from her looked more delicious, at least the way that person ate it made it seem very, very… appetizing.

Yan Song was entranced by a bowl of hotpot, and the love letter in her hand was somehow, mysteriously handed to the person across from her.

By the time she came to her senses, the youth across from her, beautiful as mountains, elegant as brocade, and bright as the sun, had already seriously extended a fair and strong hand, saying, “I agree to date you, Classmate Yan Song.”

By the time she fully regained her senses, she had acquired a boyfriend.

The next day, Yan Song consulted her young uncle who had been a monk for many years but still remembered the taste of wine and meat, but received no good advice. In the evening, she called her mother.

“Mom, I’m in love.”

The other end was silent for a moment, then Yan Song heard screaming: “Silly girl, what did you say?! Do you have a boyfriend?! Who seduced you? Damn it, I’m coming over right now, I’ll fight him! No! I’m calling the police! You stay right where you are!”

Her father had intercepted her mother’s phone.

Yan Song sighed and wheedled, “Papa, papa, silly girl misses you so much.”

Tears glimmered on the other end of the phone: “Papa, papa also misses silly girl so much. Your big brother and second brother aren’t fun at all, not as adorable as a silly girl. My child, when are you on holiday? Papa misses you so much. My child, papa brought back a little dress for you from France yesterday, come back quickly.”

Yan Song’s heart melted. After coaxing her father for a while, she hung up the phone.

Across from her, Yan Xi was emotional about his little darling studying far away in H City, apparently having forgotten the initial purpose of this conversation.

Ah Heng called her daughter back in the evening. Yan Song told her mother about what happened again. Ah Heng thought for a while and suggested: “Mama suggests that you at least need to be clear about who you like.”

“What is true love, Mama?”

“It’s a kind of need, I suppose.”

“What kind?”

“When we’re busy, we might forget everything, but after the busyness passes, the first person who appears in your mind is the deepest need established in your consciousness.”

“Did you fall in love with Papa because you needed him?”

“Falling in love with your father at first sight was the most irrational thing I’ve done in my life. That… wasn’t just need.”

Three

Yan Song inexplicably acquired a boyfriend, and only later learned that his name was Song Yan, just her name in reverse. But compared to the name “Yan Song,” Song Yan’s name carried much more weight. Song Yan had entered the school with a perfect math competition score, studied Computer Science, and led teams in creating many functional robots, representing the school in international competitions and winning countless awards. Yan Song often saw his name in various newspapers and journals but had never seen him in person, only heard of his reputation.

Only after inquiring did she learn that what he was most famous for was his face. Girls were practical – as long as someone was good-looking, everything else about intelligence, personality, and character could automatically be softened. So, even though outsiders knew little about Song Yan’s personality and character, there was still a basket full of pursuers.

Although Yan Song and Song Yan had exchanged phone numbers, there was initially no movement from either side. After several more days, while Yan Song was still hesitating about whether to take the initiative to contact him, retrieve her love letter, and formally apologize, Song Yan called first, inviting her to visit the Five Li River outside the city.

When Yan Song heard Song Yan’s voice, her legs went weak, and the dizziness she felt watching him eat hotpot returned. She nodded like a pecking chick.

When she arrived, Song Yan was already sitting by the river fishing, as still as an old monk in meditation. Beside him, willows swayed and peach trees stood gracefully, with a gentle breeze flowing. Yan Song smiled slightly, and her previously tense mood instantly relaxed.

She said, “The weather is nice today, Song Yan.”

Song Yan replied, “Yes, it is.”

Then he continued to focus intently on the river water and its potential ripples.

Yan Song didn’t disturb him and sat quietly. Turning around, she noticed a delicate pinwheel made of colorful hardened paper beside him and curiously looked at it.

Song Yan handed her the pinwheel: “There’s a level two south wind today, with constant airflow. I just folded this – it’s for you.”

Yan Song was stunned. Taking the pinwheel and facing it north-south, sure enough, it began to spin gently. Yan Song seemed to recall pleasant childhood memories. She stood up and ran in the direction of the wind, making the pinwheel spin even faster.

For the first time, she felt that running could be an interesting thing, and she smiled unconsciously.

That day, Song Yan caught four fish – two were grilled, and two were boiled in soup. Yan Song found the grilled fish fragrant and tender, the soup fresh and sweet. Afterward, her gaze toward Song Yan carried an extraordinary softness.

When the sunlight was warmest, they each took a corner by the trees and fell into a deep sleep.

Yan Song had a dream – she dreamed of herself as a child in her mother’s arms. When she woke up, she felt somewhat emotional, thinking that Song Yan was truly a warm person, even if he didn’t talk much.

It seemed that from that day, their mode of interaction was established. Song Yan would always invite Yan Song out on weekends, and she would accept. They would spend a day together in comfortable emotions and surroundings. Each time, Song Yan would give her a small handmade gift, showing no particular effort – probably all simple matters to him. After all, she was his girlfriend in name, so using small gestures to make her happy seemed appropriate.

At first, he was rather serious, but as they became more familiar, he would smile at her. When Song Yan smiled, his eyebrows seemed to be tinged by sunlight, making Yan Song feel he was both endearing and exceptionally handsome.

Later, when they became even more familiar, he would even bring her simple little robots he had made. Yan Song would watch the little robots walking mechanically back and forth on the grass – click, click, click, click – turn around, walk back and forth again, and then inexplicably burst into laughter.

Time passed quickly when she was with Song Yan, making Yan Song look forward to every weekend. Her classmates all knew she had someone she was dating, but they didn’t know who it was. After all, it wasn’t just any bowl of spicy hotpot that could casually summon a boyfriend – such a magical and wonderful thing was better left unsaid.

This relationship was like a dream. At school, they had never met face to face and had no opportunities to interact. She would always see him in television interviews and various publications, this youth gradually building strength and authority with his team. He inspired admiration and respect from everyone around her, but she remained just an ordinary person. She became anxious and confused, always feeling inferior and strange. After two years of dating, Yan Song seriously pondered: why had he agreed to her misplaced confession back then?

Song Yan’s little robots and an entire mountain stream where she could run free could no longer make her laugh. Song Yan was light and distant, as if any day, any moment he wasn’t seen, he would completely leave this mortal world and return to his heaven. And what about her? After their relationship flowed like a gentle stream when she truly began to depend on him, need him – well, actually, just fall in love with him – how could she extricate herself?

In this unequal love, Yan Song didn’t even have the right to refuse. Once the seed of doubt was planted, every move Song Yan made threw Yan Song into confusion. He had never held her hand, never caressed her cheek, much less kissed her. If there was a clear distinction between “friend” and “lover,” then “friend” obviously better fit their mode of interaction.

Four

One day, by chance, there was a department gathering. Senior Gu, who hadn’t been in contact for about two years and had entered graduate school, also attended. After getting together with Song Yan, Yan Song had gradually grown distant from him. Though he remained as friendly as ever to everyone, when she saw him now, she could only nod and smile.

A thought arose in Yan Song’s mind: I’m someone who has a boyfriend now.

The young lady’s face showed a slight blush, like a flower just beginning to bud. Yan Song had always been considered a pretty girl, after all, she had such a handsome and striking father. So when people saw a pretty girl, they naturally found her pleasing to the eye.

People who drink tend to pour out their hearts, and with university graduation approaching, the boys were like unwilling hunters – after all, their sheltered lambs were about to move on to broader pastures, to that gentle purity they would probably never touch again. So one or two boys confessed to Yan Song. She seriously rejected them and then toasted them back. The last one who came forward in his drunken haze was Gu Yi. Senior Gu’s given name was simply “Yi.”

He said: “Yan Song, you probably don’t know that every time I listened to your confessions was also the most painful time of my life.”

Yan Song had always thought those were beautiful memories.

“I approached you because of my father’s obsession. Because of the love he couldn’t obtain, he demanded that I must obtain it.”

Yan Song felt confused again, completely unable to understand.

“Seducing you to like me seemed like a very simple thing because you obviously couldn’t resist someone gentle and patient with you, and treated you as an independent person. Your life was too ordinary, while your parents and brothers were so brilliant. Their doting made you feel your unique value at home, but once you stepped outside, that value completely disappeared. So you were at a loss, you were troubled, you couldn’t remove the added value your parents and brothers gave you, but you obviously couldn’t reach the peak of your abilities either. You always tried to convince yourself, ‘I’m Yan Xi and Wen Heng’s daughter, so I must be talented and capable,’ but in fact, you don’t have these things. You admitted it and then became inferior. I gave you warmth and support, let you face yourself, and you falling for me was just a natural progression, wasn’t it?”

Yan Song was knocked into the dust by a shocking feeling similar to “what the hell.”

Gu Yi continued speaking with leisure and mockery: “I planned to get your love letter and then harshly reject you, humiliate you, and also tell my high and mighty father that the love he wanted to obtain, the soul-binding love, was nothing more than this. I was ready, I was so excited waiting for your love letter, the approaching pleasure tormented my heart. I watched you make up your mind and leave that day, and I waited for you all night. I thought you would come with the love letter the next second, but you didn’t. I thought you would shyly and hesitantly tell me that you liked me, but you didn’t do that either. Not just that night, but every day after, I never got what I waited for. You never came to find me again, never came to confess to me again. Everyone knew you fell for Song Yan, and only then did I realize that after all, you are your mother’s daughter – you inherited her fickleness just like her.”

Yan Song had been listening with nowhere to hide her face, realizing that everyone knew that boy was Song Yan, though she thought she had hidden it well. But hearing the end, the young lady’s face turned deathly pale. She clenched her fist and instantly punched Gu Yi in the face, roaring: “You can talk about me, I’ll endure it, but why bring up my mom? What did my mom do to you? Your dad abandoned my mom for your mom, and my mom never said anything about it. Why does your family have so much nonsense to say? Try saying one more word about my mom, I’ll beat you to death, you rotten egg!”

Finally this time, she wasn’t confused – it was someone else’s turn to be confused.

That night, Yan Song reported to her father that she had hit the Gu family’s son. Yan Xi said, “Papa will send you to the battlefield, and if that’s not enough, I’ll send two more bombs.”

The “two bombs” – one reading a book, one watching TV – helplessly rolled their eyes with identical expressions, one dazzlingly handsome, one gentle as water.

Yan Song called Song Yan. Song Yan held his phone between his neck and shoulder, still gripping a pen in his hand. He put down the pen and listened patiently for a while, then said softly: “A’Song, this isn’t important.”

“What?”

“I said, his words aren’t important. You being angry about this is probably because you still care about him.”

Yan Song didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She wanted to use firm words to forcefully explain her position, but Song Yan seemed uninterested, only saying lightly: “Sorry, I’m a bit busy here, I’ll hang up first and call you back later.”

The young lady nicknamed “silly” in the Yan family put down the receiver and silently lowered her head. She didn’t know how to express her feelings, but Song Yan, who had always been as gentle and rational as her mother, seemed not to care about her clumsy feelings. Never mind that she now completely didn’t care about Senior Gu – even if she did care, such caring hadn’t become Song Yan’s worry.

He didn’t worry for her.

But she had worries.

She had many, many worries, each one connected to the name “Song Yan.”

She understood now what her mother meant about liking someone. She understood that kind of need that came from deep within – not because she couldn’t be independent, but because only when she was with him did everything become memories worth remembering.

Song Yan was like a marker pen – wherever he was, every blank page of her life was marked with color, bright and clear.

When Yan Song finally realized this and called Song Yan again, his phone was already turned off.

She waited to see him again on the weekend, but his name never appeared with her phone’s ringtone again. The young lady was haunted by thoughts of him, but proof of the past was just a dream.

When he appeared again, it was a month later in national newspaper headlines: “Z University’s Song Yan Defeats Crazy Brigade, Chinese Genius Finally Triumphs Over American Robots.”

Song Yan’s team had won against the authoritative American robot brigade, with overwhelming advantages in all aspects of performance. When he stood on stage holding up the trophy giving his speech, Yan Song smiled. She felt proud of him, and also deeply knew that this secret pride born from love would soon disappear. Back then, both he and she were not grown up, looking as fresh as a youth, but now he and she were like a great tree and an ant. He shone brilliantly like a bright pearl, and certainly couldn’t be cast dimly into her embrace.

After Yan Song smiled, she began to cry, crying for a day or two until she seemed to understand something, then pulled herself together to study. After studying for a day or two, she fell into a daze again, and as she kept dazing, she began to sob. Ah Heng called her daughter and listened to her cry for a while, and because she loved her so much and sensed something, she sadly cried with her. Seeing her mother cry who had never cried before, Yan Song felt at a loss and instead stopped her tears, promising Ah Heng she would always be a child with a happy and optimistic heart.

After all, heartbreak was just a small matter.

Later, Song Yan called once too, with silence on both ends of the phone. Finally, they both spoke hesitantly at the same time. Song Yan said, you usually talk a lot, you go first.

Yan Song said, then I’ll say it for you, A’Yan. Dear A’Yan, let’s break up.

Song Yan was silent for a long while. The young lady bit her hand, snot and tears smearing all over the back of her hand as she cried like an idiot.

Song Yan didn’t agree immediately. Though quiet, he was gentle inside. He said, wait a few days – if you change your mind, call me.

Five

Predictably, Yan Song had also been raised with a proud princess mentality – how could she make such a call to him again? If one is looked down upon by someone they like, that frustration might leave a lifelong mark.

Like other young women, she studied well, was recommended for graduate school, changed her major to psychology, graduated with a master’s in psychology, rushed to get her certification, and then returned to B City to successfully get hired at a public hospital, settling down as a psychological counselor. Her parents had retired early, but from their youth, they had always been legendary and bright, like paired wings of a bird, deeply loving the world and being loved by the world until now. Her brothers each had their loves, and together they brought joy to their parents’ knees, viewing all this as the most prosperous and beautiful scene in the human world.

Yan Song gradually began going on arranged dates. With her cheerful personality, quite a few good young men pursued her. Her parents kept watch and chose a good young man who was ordinary and cheerful like her. She set a wedding date, picked out a wedding dress, chose rings, and then arranged the wedding planning, busy with creating happiness, but suddenly one day, she fainted at an intersection, and her hurried footsteps suddenly stopped.

By then, seven whole years had passed since that youthful romance.

She would skip the technology section when reading newspapers, skip past Z University news – she had finally forgotten that day. But then, she finally returned to that day.

When she woke up, she was surrounded by a group of people. A kind-hearted older woman was fanning her with a newspaper, saying, “Young lady, you have heatstroke, try to see if you can stand up.”

The young lady stared at the words in the newspaper, staring blankly.

A famous American journalist interviewed mechanical genius, Song Yan, asking which month his wedding with American supermodel Du Rui would be.

Song Yan smiled gently during the interview. The famous journalist described how stars sparkled in the eyes of this handsome and wonderful Eastern man – he who had never had rumors of romance before must have truly found true love this time.

Yan Song, like a newborn child seeing moving objects, unconsciously gently grabbed the newspaper. She stood up, saying “I’m fine, thank you for your concern,” but started crying as she walked away. The despair from years ago resurfaced – she hated herself for thinking she could laugh everything away, but that sense of being unable to match him had never disappeared. Yan Song hated herself – she knew her abilities were limited compared to her parents, and she knew she and Song Yan were separated by a universe, she even understood that this mismatch came not only from her inadequacy in being unable to stand brilliantly beside him but also from the fact that he didn’t love her.

At least, when had stars ever sparkled in his eyes when he looked at her?

In her youth, she loved confessing her troubles, always feeling she had a basketful of problems, but when she truly had heartache that couldn’t be confessed, looking back at those confessable matters, they were just a young girl’s concerns, while this unconfessable matter was truly life’s hidden suffering.

That suffering was named lovesickness that had entered deep into the marrow.

Yan Song returned home and, inexplicably, fell ill. She had many dreams, each dream by a sky-blue riverside, with small robots clumsily walking in rice fields. Each robot would come to her side and hand her a note saying, I do love you.

I do love you.

The young lady who thought she had contracted lovesickness woke from her illusions, looked at the stark reality, and felt her heart was utterly desolate and bleak. She took some Chinese and Western medicine haphazardly, then fell back into deep sleep.

A few days later, she was sent to the hospital. It wasn’t lovesickness at all, but rather a complicated illness even harder to cure than lovesickness. Ah Heng frowned for half a day – Professor Wen, who had never been defeated by illness in her life, sighed.

That illness not only caused her daughter’s muscles to atrophy, making her unable to stand steadily but also made her flower-like youth skeletal, no longer beautiful. She put on her white coat again for her daughter, returning to the research institute with graying temples. Meanwhile, Yan Xi traveled everywhere around the world, just to find advanced medical techniques to cure his little girl.

Yan Song’s fiancé was just an ordinary person and ordinary people can only add flowers to brocade but cannot endure major ups and downs, so he naturally anxiously broke off the engagement.

Yan Song had a period when her spirits were extremely good. She sat up shakily to do her eyebrows and makeup. She moved with difficulty like an old woman and didn’t do a very good job, but she put on lipstick, sat up properly, and asked Yan Xi: “Papa, do I look pretty?”

Yan Xi smiled, stroking his daughter’s head, looking at her with clear, warm, loving eyes. He said: “Pretty, as pretty as your mother.”

Yan Song let out a breath and said: “Then I’m relieved. Mother is so, so pretty, and I’m as pretty as her – that’s wonderful.”

The brothers Yan Qi and Yan Jing took turns keeping watch by Yan Song’s window. They treated her like they did when she was young, reading interesting books to her, and telling her the names of newly bloomed flowers outside the window.

One day, Yan Song suddenly looked in the mirror and saw her hair had turned gray. With illness weighing on her body, unable to endure the suffering, she sat by the bed and softly whispered in her father’s ear: “Papa, silly girl is in pain, let the silly girl go.”

Since his daughter fell ill, Yan Xi hadn’t shed a single tear, but now after trying to comfort her with a few messy words, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He quickly walked out of the hospital room in a few steps and sat by the door, sobbing loudly.

Since their daughter fell ill, Ah Heng had been immersed in research at the institute, only visiting her daughter regularly in the evening. Today she came hurriedly, saw her husband sitting by the door swallowing tears, frowned, and held him with tears in her eyes, saying softly: “It’s alright, Yan Xi, I’m here, silly girl will be fine.”

She acted as if nothing was wrong, fed her daughter, chatted and laughed gently with her, even braided her hair prettily, moving unhurriedly as usual. As she was leaving, with her back turned, her voice was firm: “You’re the most troublesome of you three siblings. When you were born, I was in pain for a full twenty-four hours – no mother would mind this debt, but I do, and I want you to repay it; when you were young, you were picky with food, only drinking breast milk – they say one drop of breast milk is one drop of blood – this debt I want you to repay; when you were little, you were a chubby child, and when you couldn’t walk, I spoiled you and carried you. Back then you asked if I was tired, and I said no, you asked if you needed to repay me, and I said Mama didn’t want that. Those were all lies – mama does get tired, mama wants you to repay her. Everything you owe me, pay it all back, don’t think about waiting until the next life – in the next life, I won’t be me, you won’t be you, it’s all empty talk.”

Yan Song’s throat choked up: “But, Mama, I don’t know how many more days I can be your daughter.”

Ah Heng’s eyes reddened. She took a deep breath and said softly: “Give me one more month, just one month, endure for one more month.”

Yan Song buried her face between her knees. As she lowered her head, tears fell, and she said, “Alright, Mama.”

Even if it hurts, keep enduring.

“Alright, Mama.”

Six

Yan Song, as a test subject, was sent to her mother’s research institute. Ah Heng said: “This is a dying person, afflicted with an illness seen perhaps once in ten thousand cases. Please, everyone, exercise your medical skills. If you cure her, I will kowtow to you all in her place. If not, I will carry her home on my back.”

The physicians at the institute had never heard Professor Wen speak such heartfelt words, and it seemed there was no retreat, only determination.

A month later, Yan Song survived. Her mother had found the root of the illness and cured her. The illness was said to come from genetics, and after brief consideration, Ah Heng understood – this illness came from her husband who had once been seriously ill. The reason her daughter’s illness was harder to treat than her husband’s was that she had developed a will to give up on life.

Ah Heng slapped her daughter hard, saying: “No matter who it’s for, being so afraid of difficulties, mistreating yourself like this – it’s all your fault. Your father and I waited over ten years for a daughter and raised you preciously like our heart’s jewel. Your father would ache when you just coughed. Though he naturally yearned for freedom, his first act wherever he went was to buy you clothes and toys, willingly bound by you. Later, when he heard the illness came from him, he sat on the sofa speechless for a long while. He was never one to cry, but he wept greatly for bringing you this illness, half his hair turning white. You’re young, thinking one obsession is eternal, yet lacking courage, becoming a coward, abusing yourself, and also hurting your father and me. Your father and I have relied on each other since youth, two people sharing one heart and life – it doesn’t matter if you hurt us. But you’re so young, why do you look down on life so much?”

Yan Song hugged Ah Heng, crying: “Mama, I’m sorry.”

Ah Heng said: “You don’t need to go home now, your father and I don’t want to see you for a while. Since the world is vast, why not see what it looks like.”

Seven

Yan Song left home, saw the snow on the Alps, and read ancient books in the British Museum. She stood at a European port watching the ceaseless flow of seawater and sat on Japan’s Shinkansen listening to April cherry blossoms falling. She met many ordinary friends, finally understanding that ordinary wasn’t synonymous with incompetence – ordinary could be interesting too, making every meal tasteful. She finally understood that Song Yan back then was so calm and peaceful because he understood the mysteries of the world and nature. It was her ignorance and resentment that forced him into a situation where he had no choice but to give her up.

She finally let go and dialed that old number. Whether he was married to Du Rui or someone else, she owed him an “I’m sorry.” But she guessed the person answering might not be him anymore – after all, so many years had passed. Yet when the call connected, there was only a long silence on the other end. Yan Song heard that suppressed, broken breathing and wondered if she was hearing sadness and panic. Song Yan wasn’t that kind of person – he had always been confident and open-minded, like Zengzi among Confucius’s disciples, with the ideal and dignity of “wearing light spring clothes, bathing in the Yi River, spreading arms to the wind on high slopes, singing back.” He probably wouldn’t be like this – she must have heard wrong.

She paused, then spoke: “Is this A’Yan?”

The other party still didn’t speak but didn’t hang up either.

This made Yan Song certain it was him, and she felt unbearably ashamed. Then, she said softly: “A’Yan, I’m sorry.”

She apologized for her irresponsible abandonment years ago.

On the other end of the phone, the youth who had just begun to love had become a mature, steady man.

He spoke, concise and hoarse: “One thousand eight hundred and fifty.”

Yan Song was surprised: “What?”

The person on the other end choked slightly, and after a long while softly sighed: “I said wait a few days, and afterward thought every day, in a few days, you might change your mind. When you didn’t come back after a few days, I waited a few more days. I didn’t notice at first, but just happened to calculate – these many ‘few days’ have already become one thousand eight hundred and fifty days.”

He spoke so casually, but Yan Song first became confused, then cried like an idiot.

Eight

She called her father saying: “I’m in love again.”

Her father said: “Changed to someone new?”

She held a pair of jade-like hands, smiling slightly: “Still the same one.”

Yan Xi opened his eyes wide, thinking confusedly, still which one? He asked Ah Heng and Ah Heng leaned her gray-white hair against his gradually relaxing long neck.

They had been together half their lives. Ah Heng smiled, kissing his handsome face now covered with wrinkles, saying softly, that’s not important.

As long as the true heart remains, whether things are present or absent, whether staying in place or leaving, none of it matters.

What you truly need, only you know.

Nine

Yan Song once asked Song Yan: “Why did you so casually accept that confession letter back then?”

Song Yan said: “In your love letter you wrote, ‘Yan Song, look, spring has come, the wind is fresh but not clingy, the sparrows though gray are plump, the grass has turned green and flowers have budded, everyone wears peaceful smiles.’ You looked at me, making me feel that if I rejected you, the wind would stop, and the sparrows would become thin.”

Yan Song was embarrassed: “Those were words someone else told me.”

Song Yan said: “When I first entered university, others told me that Yan Song from the Philosophy Department was famous.”

“That’s because Yan Song had famous parents and brothers, right?” Yan Song smiled, now only feeling acceptance – accepting herself as an ordinary person, and forgiving herself.

Song Yan was surprised: “They told me there was a girl in the Philosophy Department as beautiful as a painting, whose eyes could shine. Because she loved helping others and didn’t fight for dominance, everyone especially liked her. Later, they even took me to secretly watch you.”

Yan Song was extremely surprised – no one had ever told her such things.

She had been someone others admired too.

She said: “Then that day…”

Song Yan smiled slightly: “I thought you would never ask me why someone who never ate spicy food appeared at a spicy food stall that day. So, whether you could write a love letter, who the letter was for, what the letter said – what did it matter?”

“A’Yan, why didn’t you actively look for me?”

“I was afraid you would tell me again that you wanted to break up. Rejected once, I could tell myself it wasn’t real. Rejected twice, I wouldn’t know how to make amends. After all, you were an excellent and cheerful girl, and many boys liked you. From a rational perspective, I wanted you to have better choices, but I didn’t want to let you go. So I hesitated, stayed in place, deceiving myself, as if time would forever stop on the day we were still a couple.”

Yan Song’s heart was unbearably sour. She knew she must have misunderstood something. When you fall in love with someone, they become the most excellent person in your eyes – how others see them doesn’t matter at all.

She had only been concerned with others’ views.

Yan Song wiped away her tears and took a deep breath: “A’Yan, why didn’t you choose model Du Rui? She’s an outstanding girl.”

Song Yan said: “Du Rui is a friend, a gentlemanly friendship. When reporter Lewis asked me if it was true about the wedding date with her, this universally acknowledged good girl, I told him I had a girlfriend, also a good girl. I had no reason to abandon my good girl for another good girl.”

After all, there are many, many good girls, but the good girl I like – there’s only one.

Ten

When the Yan family’s daughter got engaged, both sets of parents met for the first time.

Ah Heng said: “Hello, Song Yan’s mother.”

Song Yan’s mother’s eyes lit up, shyly hiding behind her husband, peeking out to look at her once-admired goddess: “Hello, Senior Wen, my surname is Ruan.”

Mr. Yan said: “Hello, Mr. Song.”

Song Yan’s father smiled faintly: “Hello, Mr. Yan. However, my surname isn’t Song.”

Hmm.

Hmm?!