Three hundred years ago, I was you.

Author: Xi Lingxue
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-09-01
Features: Passing the kang table and walking inside, there was an ancient tree with a trunk as thick as an embrace. It had been standing there for who knows how many years, but it would soon be felled to die for the house. Yet at that moment, it seemed to be completely unaware of its impending fate, still faithfully providing shade with its lush green canopy over a row of three brick-and-glass-roofed houses. I pushed open the slightly ajar door of the main house and was startled—there stood a young man in a white shirt and gray trousers, bending over in the center of the room, tidying something. Upon seeing me, he was surprised, shielding his eyes with his hand from the sudden sunlight and looking at me curiously from beneath his palm. I was flustered, "Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be here." But as soon as I said it, I realized my mistake and quickly tried to, "I meant to say, I thought no one lived here and could just look around." Oh my, that was even more incorrect. I further explained, "No, I mean, I passed by here and was curious. Seeing that it was about to be torn down, I just wanted to take a look." The young man laughed. He straightened up and politely lowered his rolled-up sleeves, saying gently, "Please feel free to look." His gentleness dispelled my tension. I asked, "Is this your home?" "It once was." He looked around the walls with a sense of nostalgia. "But it’s not anymore. The notice said it will be torn down tomorrow, so today I’m just coming to check one last time to see if there’s anything worth keeping." Now I could clearly see that what he was clearing was old magazines and picture books—some of them were even from half a century ago. I was astonished, "These are treasures! Are you going to throw them away?" "They’re my grandmother’s things. She passed away a long time ago, and these have been piled in a box, never looked at. Would you like them?" "Can I take them?" I widened my eyes, hardly believing my good fortune. "Of course. You’re their lucky day." "I’m the lucky one," I said, overjoyed and immediately hugged the boxes tightly. The young man laughed again. "Put them in the box and take them with you. It’ll be easier to carry that way." I accepted his suggestion, thanking him over and over, then turned and practically fled, afraid the owner might change his mind and take them back. When I got to the roadside to hail a taxi, I realized what a terrible thing had happened: my wallet had been stolen! I recalled the person who bumped into me on the street earlier—maybe that’s when my wallet was pickpocketed? But what could I do now? Go all the way back? I looked up at the noon sun—it was impossible. Not only was the weather too hot, but the box was so heavy, most importantly, I was already lost and had no idea which way to go. I wandered in front of the courtyard gate, hesitating whether to go back and ask the kind young man for ten yuan to take a taxi home. But then I thought, to bother someone so soon after meeting them was a bit greedy. Just then, the courtyard gate opened, and the young man saw me. He looked very surprised: "What? You’re still here? Want to return these old magazines to me?" "No, of course not." I clutched the box protectively to my chest, only then realizing I had been sweating profusely and hadn’t put the box down the entire time. "I was thinking—could I borrow ten yuan from you to take a taxi? Here’s the thing, my wallet