Yeshengtao Collection - Great Masters' Small Collections

Author: Ye Shengtao
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: On this day of spring outing, the weather was excellent. A gentle southeast wind swept by in waves, and the wildflowers swayed slightly. The river surface, reflecting the emerald sky and the brilliance of the sun, was almost like a field of silver, adorned with many green jade-like ripples—because the waves were fine and soft. In the fields by the lake, the wheat had grown to about two or three inches tall. Several farmers and farmwomen, leaning by the river, were carrying fertilizer brought from the boat to the storage pond. They worked in silence, as if there was only one person there, or as if they were mechanical devices in motion. On the other side of the lake, a range of mountains was both elegant and serene. This natural scene was unpraised by anyone, except for the birds on the trees, who flew from branch to branch, tilting their heads to gaze at the scenery, then sang their songs of praise for spring. A man and a woman walked far from the field. They were probably around thirty years old. The man had deep-set eyes and high cheeks, with gaunt temples that conveyed a stubborn and self-respecting attitude. The woman's appearance was quite ordinary, and her model could be found everywhere. She was gentle and frail. They chatted and enjoyed the spring scenery, very happy; but what made her happier was going out with her husband—such an opportunity was rare. They walked to the lake's edge, feeling slightly tired, and seeing the clean green grass, sat down to rest. Her life was simple and unnatural. In her childhood, she was accustomed to the several lady relatives at home, who had no ideals or ambitions, merely following the ways of life, which became her model. After marrying her husband, her life history changed. She felt that her husband was noble among humans and that she should obey him—because he loved her. He was a writer, the main contributor to a women's magazine, writing editorials that always carried the tone of "The relationship between husband and wife is like that between ruler and subject." He also compiled works like "Fragrant Chamber Miscellany" and "Beauty Spectrum" for his magazine, considering them "surpassingly brilliant." She understood the themes of these writings, not only understood but also admired and believed in them. Her husband's happiness was her happiness. Sometimes, when her husband was unhappy, she worried and devised various methods to help him forget his troubles. Soon, her purpose was achieved, and she also became happy. On this day, her husband took her on a picnic, and they chatted happily along the way, so she was overjoyed. Sitting on the grass, her husband pointed out the surrounding scenery, telling her what mountain or tree it was. But she paid no attention to his words, and suddenly felt an extraordinary thought in her mind, though she did not know what it was, only that it surpassed the happiness she had experienced before. She gazed at the lake surface, vast and bright, with fine ripples that were clearly not man-made. She looked at the mountains, a breath of clarity as if to cross the lake and reach her. The mountain shadows reflected in the lake, graceful and solemn, as if the god of art was playing on the waves. At that moment, she forgot her past life, forgot the models of the lady relatives and grandmothers from her childhood, and forgot the imposing presence and words of her husband that lingered in her mind. She forgot herself too, feeling only that the scenery before her was natural, lively, and noble, and that she had merged with this natural, lively, and noble world. The thought deeply imprinted in her mind, and a look of joy and determination appeared on her face—something she had never had before. Her husband still thought she was happy because she was accompanying him, but in reality, that was not the case anymore. The spring outing was over. Her life remained unchanged. Yet that thought was forever etched in her mind. Based on that thought, one could not say that her life had not changed.
P5-6