Firefly

Author: Lu Wenbin
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2002-08-01
Features: Ailang always fails to get into university and has peculiar habits. In the eyes of many, he is a person of questionable character, at least a monster. Yet, there is an innocent and simple girl who falls for him, and naturally, he falls for her too. That girl is Yin Zhu. They often meet in the cornfields. During their meetings, Ailang enjoys reciting poetry, while Yin Zhu loves listening to him. They lived a life of simple-minded bliss until one day, a villain rudely destroyed Yin Zhu's innocence. This is a novel about emotions. In today's modern world that surrounds us, how are we truly doing in our emotional lives, and to what kind of emotions should we truly be attached?
Excerpt: Seeing the dense cornfield ahead, my mood relaxed slightly. I squeezed into it, and immediately, my father's anger and curses were blocked outside. As I ground the inkstone, I thought of my brother's letter. The ink had been ground down significantly before I noticed. A sudden sound made me momentarily set aside my brother's letter. The sound was intermittent, sometimes distant, sometimes near. Just as I was about to ask who it was, I saw a figure appear. Getting closer, I realized through the gaps in the corn leaves that it was Yin Zhu.
"You're really good at finding me wherever I hide," she said.
"Are you hiding from me?" Yin Zhu wiped the sweat from her forehead with her hand, but her footsteps suddenly stopped.
"No, no, no," I rushed to explain, "I was just wondering why you haven't come to see me these past few days." Yin Zhu relaxed and walked towards me with large steps.
"I've been reading the book you lent me these past few days," she said.
"Have you finished?"
"Just finished." Yin Zhu took out Half a Lifetime from her small cloth bag.
"Is it good?"
"It's great. I even showed it to my aunt, and she said it was wonderful too. She asked me to borrow it from you again."
"No problem."
"How did you find me here?" I suddenly remembered this question.
"I saw that you weren't home and thought you went fishing, so I went to the reed riverbank to look for you. It wasn't there, so I thought you might have gone up the mountain, but I didn't dare go alone, so I came back. On my way here, I smelled the scent of ink. I guessed you must be inside, so I squeezed in. This cornfield is so big; it took me half an hour to find you." Yin Zhu said, rubbing her arm with her fingers. I noticed her hand and arm were scratched by the corn leaves, leaving bright red marks on her pale skin.
Yin Zhu stood there, her legs facing my face. Her skirt just covered her knees, revealing her tall and round calves. On her bare feet, there was a row of petal-like crimson nails. A strong urge to touch her legs and feet suddenly arose in my heart.
"Is it pretty?" Yin Zhu noticed me staring at her legs.
"It's beautiful."
"More beautiful than the ones in the wall calendar?"
"More beautiful than the ones in the calendar."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Then you should take a good look." Yin Zhu lifted her skirt and twirled in front of me.
"Are you done looking?" Yin Zhu asked.
"I'm done," I said, still wanting to touch her myself.
Yin Zhu lowered her skirt and crouched in front of me. I picked up some corn leaves and spread them on the ground for her to sit on. Yin Zhu said, "I know you like to look, so whenever you want to, I'll let you. Just for you." I took the collection album from the plastic bag and handed it to Yin Zhu.
"What is this?"
"My collection, and Li Qingzhao's poems."
"Why is it written as The Poems of Lady Yi'an on the cover?"
"Lady Yi'an is Li Qingzhao's pseudonym, just like Qinglian Jushi is Li Bai's."
"Why don't we have pseudonyms?"
"This," I was genuinely stumped.
"Hmm, I understand," I said, not sure how she understood.
Yin Zhu opened the collection album and exclaimed, "Wow, such small handwriting—it's like it's printed right on these legs!" She flipped through it and said, "Writing such small letters must be tiring, right?" Seeing that I didn't respond, she asked again, "Is it?"
I shook my head. Yin Zhu closed the album and looked at me seriously. "Are you really giving it to me? Don't you like them anymore?"
"I don't want to see them anymore," I said weakly.
"Why?"
"Because now I can look at your legs." I tried to keep my enthusiasm up.
Yin Zhu's cheeks immediately flushed, and even her eyes seemed red—hard to tell if it was from shyness or excitement. She carefully put the album in her bag and said, "I'll keep it safe for you. When you want to see it again, I'll give it to you."
A grasshopper landed on Yin Zhu, and I reached out to catch it, but she stopped me. "Don't hurt it. It'll fly away on its own in a little while." We watched the grasshopper together, waiting for it to fly away. The grasshopper jumped around on Yin Zhu, from her legs to her head, staying there for a full five minutes before finally flying off happily.
Yin Zhu glanced at the inkstone beside me and then at my brush. "Write a few words on my legs too." I looked at the faint blue veins on her legs and asked, "What should I write?"
"I want you to write Lady Yi'an's poems too."
"Alright," I dipped my brush.
Yin Zhu pulled her skirt up, presenting her straight legs to me. After a moment's thought, I held the brush and wrote a poem titled Alone with the Wild Goose on her fair skin, which seemed to glow slightly:
"Tent bed and paper curtains, morning sleep awakens,
Unspoken thoughts, endless worries.
Incense burns low, jade stove cold,
Companioning my feelings like flowing water.
Flute melody three times, plum heart startled,
Spring feelings overflow.
Light wind, sparse rain, howling,
Prompts a thousand tears to fall.
Flute player gone, jade tower empty,
Heartbroken, with whom to lean on?
A branch broken, in this world or above,
No one to send it to.
The poem filled one leg perfectly.
After finishing, I leaned back slightly and examined the with great interest.
Yin Zhu said, "Don't just look at it yourself. Read it to me too." I recited it and explained it to Yin Zhu.
Yin Zhu said, "When Lady Yi'an wrote poems, she always seemed so unhappy."
"Lady Yi'an was one of the ancient poets who excelled at writing sorrow," I replied.
"Why was she so sorrowful?"
"Perhaps it was because she was too sensitive," I said, imagining a goatee.
"Sensitive? What does sensitive mean? How come I don't have it?"
"How do you know you don't have it?"
"Because I've never felt sorrow."
Seeing Yin Zhu's innocent expression, I couldn't help but laugh. Looking at the poem on her leg, it seemed to change color, shimmering with a blue light. I sighed, "Who says words are best written on Xuan paper? Written on skin, especially on someone like Yin Zhu, that's truly the best."
Yin Zhu stood up, tugging at her skirt, and walked back and forth in front of me. The words seemed to move too, not following her legs but floating and swirling in the air, playing with her graceful legs like a group of flying tadpoles.
"It's so beautiful, so beautiful," Yin Zhu said. "I want to keep them, let them grow on my legs."
"Don't joke. If your aunt saw them, she'd scold you, and I'd probably get in trouble too."
"No, your aunt would think I bought a new pair of socks."
"Let's go wash in the reed river."
"No," Yin Zhu looked at me mischievously. I pulled her by the arm. "I'll write for you again next time. Be good."
Yin Zhu pouted deliberately and reluctantly followed me.
Through the long cornfield and across someone else's vast wheat field, we took a shortcut to the reed river. Seeing some children playing in the water, we walked upstream until we found a quiet spot where no one was around before stopping.
Yin Zhu picked a bunch of colorful wildflowers along the riverbank and stuck several in her hair. She planted the flowers in the wet sand by the river, then poured some water over them.
When she turned to wash her legs, I took off my outer shirt and jumped into the river. The splashing water soaked her skirt, and Yin Zhu shivered before bursting into laughter.