Chen Luyu · Heart's Promise (New Version)

Author: Chen Luyu
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-09-01
Features: It is said that Luyu described Guo Hui as a bud that never blooms, and at the age of 90, it falls to the ground without opening. Hearing this, Luyu seems to have a sense of heroism and the demeanor of an elder. But based on my observation, Guo Hui, standing by the riverbank of the Nile, in the Sinai Desert, and on the Golan Heights, does not resemble a bud at all. She not only climbs mountains and hills every day without fearing hardship but also speaks eloquently in front of the camera at every location, with no prepared script. She talks about the history and politics of millennia, yet she manages to do so accurately and without hesitation. However, standing in front of the pyramids, she feels intimidated. Such a magnificent history, forever closed off, and such a small bud—perhaps it’s better to keep it closed.
The appearance of Luyu made us realize to what extent we had become dark, including Guo Hui. Later, it was revealed that Luyu’s whiteness was related to her having a bad cold, but at a glance, she looked frail and delicate, far from being the "bud" someone described her as. Everyone pitied her and wanted to find a Chinese restaurant to let her drink some hot noodle soup. They searched from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv, and back again, and finally managed to find one, but she fell asleep in the car. In this dangerous place, where guns are everywhere and explosions occur constantly, could such a frail woman deliver strong reporting to the global Chinese-speaking audience? It was completely unexpected. On the job, Luyu was a different person. The interview subjects she faced would make even the most experienced male journalists flustered, yet she faced the unimaginable West Bank, Peres, and Ramallah with ease. She argued bravely and indignantly with Iraqi customs, tearfully embraced women whose homes had been destroyed in the war, and tried to get close to Saddam by offering money. All these actions were spontaneous and had no prior preparation, yet they were always loud and powerful, like lightning and wind, energizing the global Chinese-speaking audience. At this point, Luyu seemed qualified to judge everything in front of her—even calling Israel’s retired prime minister a bud that had fallen to the ground and the new king of Jordan a bud still waiting to bloom.
Interestingly, even after her official duties were over, she became a vulnerable and helpless girl again. One night, she came knocking on my door wearing a bathrobe, saying the showerhead was stuck. Jia Guoxian heard it and fixed it in no time. Captain Guo Ying said, "I knew it, I knew it!" But what did she know? It seemed to imply that she knew Luyu always needed others to take care of her. Luyu couldn’t meet Saddam, so she went to an antique shop filled with pictures of Saddam and bought clothes. Finally, she bought a vibrant Islamic robe to wear. I noticed a small hole in the robe, likely from a cigarette, which might hold a story—whether a happy one or a sad one, I thought it was more likely the latter. But Luyu didn’t care; she carried that story with her. Her foolish appearance made it easy to forget the sharp words she had spoken just an hour earlier or an hour later in front of the camera.
Luyu had a great appetite, which I shared with her. The food in Iraq was too rustic and simple, and none of the others liked it, but Luyu and I especially loved the flatbread there. We would stuff ourselves with it every day, looking completely foolish. In fact, Guo Hui’s appetite was also amazing. Despite her slender and beautiful figure, she loved meat so much. In Greece, she always ate with me, and whenever three or four plates of meat were served, she would casually move the empty plates aside, hiding behind two heads so others wouldn’t notice her gluttony. However, this only happened in Greece. When Luyu took over, the food situation only got worse, and she was left with nothing but a longing for food.