My university didn't have a love life.

Author: Zi Chen
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2003-09-01
Features: Maybe, you're still waiting for me to write a more detailed ending for this story. Maybe you think such an ending is too abrupt and lacks originality, but can I really say any more? Give you ten thousand years, will you use your own hard bones and a full heart of crimson blood to build a towering wall for the tender and unreachable territory in your heart? Give you a second, can you demolish this wall and level the deeply scarred terrain in your heart, returning to the primordial chaos where the sea merges with the sky, seaweed entwines with jellyfish? Can you hang "Childhood" around your waist like a Walkman, rewinding it automatically amidst fading sorrow? What about the colorful marbles in your pockets? The pistol-like desk organizer that shoots soybean-sized bullets, like the Mauser C96 used in Zhu De's Nanchang Uprising? The blush when you secretly read the last chapter of "Physiology and Hygiene"? The luminous cups filled with grape wine? The beautiful dancers under your tent? Can you still remember the fear of growing up that crept upon you as you woke in the middle of the night, bathed in the faint glow of time? Can you still recall the random tremors that floated in the surging tide of time, time and again? I think of you again, my friend. Your smile is like a steaming hot sweet potato basked in winter noon sunlight—warm yet hazy, familiar yet hollow. But in reality, how could it be so distant?