From One Second to a Lifetime – The Love Volume

Author: Qiu Yepeng Gong Lei
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-01-01
Features: If I love you—
I will not climb the clematis,
showing off on your high branches;
If I love you—
I will not sing the monotonous song,
like a lovesick bird, under the shade;
Nor will I be like a spring,
bringing cool comfort year after year;
Nor will I be like a cliff,
adding to your height,
accentuating your majesty,
even the sunlight.
Even the spring rain.
No, none of these are enough!
I must be a cottonwood tree
beside you, standing together
as trees. Roots tightly clasped underground,
leaves touching in the clouds.
With every breeze, we nod to each other,
but no one understands our words.
Delivery room. Tao Yujie is sorting newspapers and letters. She skillfully categorizes them,
tying them into bundles and placing them into the bicycle mail bag. She, focused and dexterous,
wears a grass-green uniform, exuding a simple and elegant beauty. She has excellent cycling skills,
and when she proudly rides her shiny green bike, she adds a touch of life to this remote county.
The young men on the streets see her and feel a strange sense of comfort in their hearts.
She places the newspapers, then walks to the table. Busy as she is, she takes a sniff of the "Jasmine" on the windowsill:
The flower stretches its long neck,
showing off its delicate beauty.
Outside, fine rain is falling;
the sky is a misty, gray-blue.
She pushes open the window, peeks out,
raindrops on her face;
she frowns, then glances at the door—no one there.
She checks her watch, glances at the door again,
as if waiting for someone to come in,
yet afraid of someone coming in.
Actually, no one comes in.
Every noon, when her mail truck stops at No. 27, Baihu Lane,
a young man is always waiting in advance:
tall, fair-faced, with a neatly combed head.
From the mail delivery, she knows his name is Xia Yutian.
As soon as the truck stops, he eagerly comes forward,
says, "Thank you for your hard work,"
and offers a flattering smile,
reaching to take the newspapers and letters.
For some reason, she smiles warmly at others,
but in front of him, she won’t say much.
Look at his eagerness:
"When will People’s Literature arrive?"
"Has China Youth come yet?"
"Why is there one less newspaper today?"
"Truly!"
"Are you tired every day?"
"What about rainy days?"
"Where do you live?"
And so on.
He always tries to linger and chat a bit longer,
offering drinks and inviting her to sit.
Whenever this happens, the girl’s cheeks flush,
nodding or shaking her head with just "Hmm" or "Ah."
Honestly, Yujie isn’t deliberately showing off in front of young men,
but she despises their attempts to curry favor or play tricks in front of girls.
When driving down a street or lane,
three or five young men often suddenly appear in front of her.
She rings her bell frantically,
but they pay no attention.
So, she doesn’t back down,
drives the front wheel into the gap between them,
twists the handlebar, and skillfully pushes through.
Laughter and whistles follow behind.
Even when she drinks soy milk at a breakfast stall,
they appear again:
sitting opposite her on the bench,
winking at each other,
then boasting about their new imported color TVs and recorders,
intentionally matching watches,
showing off the white light of their imported automatic watches.
In such situations, Tao Yujie remains dignified and unyielding,
returning them a challenging glare.
Only once, when the young men mispronounced "Kasuga Shoko" as "Piyou Xiaojuan,"
she couldn’t help but chuckle and corrected them.
But they were flattered and eager to please,
about to awkwardly start a conversation,
when she wiped her lips with a white handkerchief and left.
They noticed: her lip-wiping motion was truly charming.
P3-4