1.

My subconsciousness is a night sky in a super clear summer night. Whenever I look up, with my eyes closed of course, there are stars blinking at me, millions of them up there. There should be more stars on the night sky, if not for the city light. Every time I look up, something bright up there captures my attention and make me lose sleep and appetite.

It's a night sky full of wonder. For example, it goes out and gathers its own elements and conducts its own business. It pays no attention to the brain that works to control everything. Our rational mind has little affect on or control over the moody mirror. This is nothing abstract, really. I don't know how many of you have the same experience. There have been a pair of eyes which lighten up my night sky day and night, night and day for years. They look at me with tenderness and maybe love. Sometimes tenderness can be so heavy, I am telling you.

I have no idea where these eyes come from most of the time. Maybe too many years have passed that I have forgot the person or persons who own those eyes. Sometimes I feel if I concentrate hard enough to trace back and recount all the eyes that have cast tenderness on me, I probably could verifiably recognize her. Other times I cry names in my dreams.

Looking up at those eyes, we know that our life has, indeed, traveled a road of its own. We may have bumped into some stars and are getting farther and farther away from them. And we aren't sure that our life has not been a vast wasting of time since then. We live, simply because we no longer know or care about happiness in its true sense. Is happiness really timelessness of purpose? Whose definition is that anyway? And what does that mean?

Funny that the farther away I am wandering from these particular pair of eyes, the brighter they become in my night sky. It matters little now to whom these eyes belong, really. They are there, two brightest stars in the night sky of all my dreams. They blind my vision and exhaust my energy. For them, my soul is becoming shriveled in despair. Essentially two bright eyes hold my consciousness or subconsciousness hostage. And the real wonder is that I feel good from time to time to be their hostage. I crave for dreams, fantastically sweaty dreams, dreams that could end up in death, glorious death. In those dreams all the details come together to make coherent stories; in those dreams I learn more about life than when I am conscious. Please go away, for I want to spend more time with my subconsciousness.

The only trouble is that subconsciousness does not recognize the fact that these eyes belong to a chapter of life that was too trying for a revisit.

2.

In this life of ours, not everything or everyone is appreciated in the way they are supposed to be appreciated. Under-appreciation is ungoverned everywhere.

My father became a widower when he was in his early 40s in the countryside, the hinterlands of China. For centuries it was tough for a Chinese peasant to get married once, let alone twice. So my father had no choice but to take on the responsibility of rearing my brother and me all by himself. Life was hard. Wait a minute, I take it back. I just made a terrific understatement. I am sorry. Life was absolutely horrendous as three of us often staggered out of the smoke-blackened cave of ours under-nourished in funny clothes and bad hygiene. Yet there was nothing to be laughed about the way we hanged on to life because we were supposed to look like that. The whole damn country didn't look any better than we three hapless bachelors who had a hard time to get a woman to look at us. It was sad, really sad; yet it was real, preposterously real.

The real agony, or the pain on the butt, for my father and myself in this matter, came from none other than my own brother. Linsheng, the Sound of Forest or Erwa (second boy) as villagers called him, was five years older but twice of my size. He was a dumb ass simply because he took his own father as the example of utter failure in this damn life of ours and never gave the old man any credit for the struggles he had to put up, mostly for the sake of him and me. Respect is a concept that only comes from a loving heart. When a heart is distorted by ignorance and resentment, be they external forces or internal incompetence, nothing but hatred spews out of it. There are so many dim wits mixing in with us who can't deal with the tenderness of their own heart.

Noticing this "criminal act in the heart" committed by my own brother, I grew into a sensitive little fellow. But I couldn't fight my brother, for he was too big. Actually, I learned to get out of harm's way to avoid getting roughed up, as he was constantly looking for easy targets to vent his own frustration. Dumb guys always have trouble dealing with frustration. Meanwhile, Erwa tried to inject his view into me. He wanted me to hate along with him. He wanted me to turn against our own father. To his dismay, he couldn't stop me from consciously standing on my father's side, even during the times when our premature old man was wrong or suspicious of wrongdoing. It was like: if this cruel world of ours wished to laugh at my poor father, let it laugh at both of us. So laugh at us it did, in cold blood.

One of the biggest embarrassing moments in my childhood happened in a gorgeous late summer evening. I was about 11 years old. I still remember that it was a fabulous later summer evening in the year of 1971. The horrific revolution seemed to have eclipsed the sun in its wholesome for a few years until that day.

After a whole day of energetic shining, the sun was about to set and the rays of warm red light were filing up every square inch of our world of yellowness and brick-redness to make a fairy land with its rich colors of gold and bronze. Mother nature put on quite a show of her magnificent magic. Sadness and suffering were temporarily masked by beautiful rays of light. Every face seemed to be glowing under her great grace. By all accounts, it was an exceptionally beautiful day because the rain had just washed everything clean and clear the previous day.

Sensitive and tender hearts like mine were always appreciative of such a great display of love and care. Still I hadn't forgot that bad events seemed to always sneak on us on a splendid moment. That basically summarized our sorry life there.

It all started innocently, like all other things. The heck, even the deadly revolution seemed to be a wonderful idea, a little too good maybe, at the beginning. By dinner time we were comfortably mixed in with the mob of villagers who stood or squatted at the town square or crossroads which was also the bus stop, having dinner out of our gigantic clay bowls. Our dinner bowls were so big that it can be used for a salad bowl for a family of three here in America. We mountain dwellers toiled all our life. Fantastic appetite was what kept us going. Our life only had one purpose: to fill up the big bowl every day. That was actually the toughest task for many of us. Maybe the immediate reason that our dinner bowl was so big was that none of us needed any refill during our gathering. And none of us would like to miss out any of the colorful conversation. We depended on that one hour or so time of balderdash to nourish or console our hungry minds. It was part of those unofficial rituals we formed to combat the boredom of a pathetic life. It was our way to turn tears into something less bitter thus edible.

So, there we were, chatting the evening away. No politics, no Sir. Life was enough of a hell already, none of us could afford any political trouble. Just plain gossip and grotesque stories to amuse ourselves. And it was mostly men's circle, with a few exceptions as some grandmas whose hearts were hardened enough to eavesdrop and enjoy or share some of the colorful jokes.

Meanwhile, back in our mind, we were waiting for the bus to come. Even though no one squatted directly facing the bus stop, everyone kept the bus stop in their field of vision. West Qi, our town, was the last bus stop at the southeastern tip of Shaanxi Province and Shangnan County. Historically West Qi, a haven of great soldiers and thriving bandits, had always found its way to line up with eventual losers. Our heroic association with losers could dated back to Xiang Yu or even earlier warlords or kings and princes. That ill-fate and bloodshed continued its way to Li Zicheng. Damn it, all of them seemed promising at the beginning. Then there would the ultimate defeat and bloodbath. The pattern was painfully clear: Every 200 years our men got locked up and beaten senseless. It had been so many times that our women remembered nothing sadder than how to cook for prisoners. West Qi was famous for taking a few baths in blood. However, nobody would know that coming into the town and talking to the children or survivors of this tough-luck corner of the world. Here no body shed any tears. So many centuries had passed and so many devastating events had happened that we had learn not to let death or bloodshed affect our facial expression. So many deaths made death part of life. We had evolved to the point that we were willing to die for a magnificent sunset and any touch of glory or beauty.

West Qi had plenty of reason for its eagerness to join a good fight. For one thing, West Qi belongs to Shangnan. Shangnan historically has been one of the poorest, if not the poorest, regions of China. Shangnan had the highest male-female differentiation. Women of any looks would go down the flat lands to marry a slightly comfortable life. We had too many sexually unfulfilled men with empty stomachs. We fought for a bowl of noodles, or corn cereal with or without pickles. Even birds fight with life on the line for a grain of wheat. Men from West Qi fought to earn the right to sleep with a woman, any woman. We fought thus understood and took defeat in stride. This poverty legacy lingered on way into contemporary era as most of Shangnan buses couldn't run more than 10 miles without breaking down. However broke-down, those rusty boxes brought new and old faces to our town and supplied us with new gossip materials. Without bus, our corner of the world would be truly forgotten and lost. No body knew since when we learned to depend upon the bus to inject some life into our town on the edge of falling off the cliff into a river or densely wooded valley.

That day the bus was a little late but no one showed any concern. We kept our cool. Life and death didn't mean a thing to any of us. Plus time had little value in our life. So when an exceptionally old and broken piece of junk huffed and puffed into town, no facial expression was changed for the moment in waiting. No head was turned.

"Ah, here it is and no body died, I guess."

"I bet you a hundred that this sucker broke down three times on its way here and the driver had to crawl underneath every time to fix it up and coming out with dirt, oil and shit all over his face." Another smart-ass villager tried to top the first one. It felt good to mock others.

Ugly and fatigued, however, this bus didn't kick up the usual size of dust bowl during this time of the year. The setting sun was too majestic to be overshadowed by any human activity. The passengers fell off the bus one by one, tired and beaten, pale and sick. Then the usual screaming and clamor ensured as the locals greeted their friends and relatives. We faces in the dinner bowls chewed on as some of us made disgusting lip-smacking noises and chatted away as if we were ignoring that piece of junk on purpose. Actually, we didn't have to look to know who went where. We essentially knew who went where even before they left town. Plus their voices were familiar enough for us to hear the recounts of their exciting expeditions. Staring at them would make them stop, you see. We wanted them to keep on reporting so that we could piece everything together to pass time.

Then something serious happened: the crowd of chewing mouths came to a deadly stop; some jaws were dropped even; a few mouths made the effort to swallow when they were still full. All heads were turned towards the bus now. Emerging from that rusty box was a goddess, a woman so fair that one could see her veins on her neck and on the back of her hands. Yet she had a terrifically full body. Thin was not worshipped in West Qi and its surrounding villages. Anyway, her arms that danced slowly along the sides as she walked down suddenly injected too much life of luxuriant beauty into the town of losers. Her hair which was reaching her shoulders was up in big curls. How did she do that? Was she born with curly hair? This was big; our collective imagination was challenged, for none of us could describe or even prescribe something like her in our willful fantasy tales we manufactured for ourselves at dinner time day in a day out. Today, it became clear that we had been cheated by our own arrogance and ignorance and by the injustice this damn world had inflicted upon us. Not only could someone that beautiful move but she also strut up right in our face. We saw her and devoured her with own eyes. For her, some of the world's thickest skins in the crowd of big bowls blushed for the first time ever, some veins inflated to the point of explosion. There was anxiety, anger, pain and frustration out of lust which would be forever unfulfilled. It was exuberant lust not only for sex but also beauty. And a secret thrill bolted up in the hot air with the familiar dose of hopelessness. It was dangerous electricity. Even I as an eleven year old felt the charge in the air. Maybe I was too sensitive and was exposed to some of the bawdy stories too early. Looking, we wished our parents had given us eight eyes and yet the frustration made us envy the blind. Please don't punish us like this. Maybe it was her fault, for she was in such a glorious summer dress which was mostly white, light or even transparent. Her goddessly body and her fairy tale dress did not walk but seemed to be floating in the air. We were awe struck, all of us. Someone tried to swallow his dinner unchewed and got choked up yet he dared not to make any noise as he struggled to control his cough by turning purple then blue and had to hide his face between his legs. Poor soul. Poor West Qi. Throughout the hoopla, the goddess did not even cast a glance at us. We were not even worthy. Yet all of us became her devoted worshipers, nonetheless. This is perhaps the essence of religion. Even the frown or scold on her face was the subject we would talk and marvel about for years to come. Maybe our suffering was justified because of her coming upon us. Our heart experienced such an intense and sweet tremor. We loved to be frowned upon, only by her of course. We were fortunate to be under her gaze. That evening the whole town lost our cool and felt good about it.

3.

"Could one of you good folks help us transport our belongings to Goose Landing Rock?" A man, an extremely well-mannered and obviously educated man with glasses, approached our circle of giant dinner bowls, begging for help. He must the husband of the goddess. Lucky dog.

Wait, did he say Goose Landing Rock? That tipped the wind bells off in my ears, the soft but clear wind bells, the Muzak of my childhood.

No one responded as all of us were still struggling to collect our breath while fighting through the deep silence spelled over our heads by the unforeseen appearance of her highness. It was an awkward moment, some embarrassment on us all. Historically our town had a long tradition of not losing its cool under any circumstances. Bloodshed, failed uprising, and all-out war, you name it, we had seen it all. Our men would bite our teeth into powder to suppress that moan in the face of excruciating pain and death of our beloved. Having been on the border of many states, it had been a given that we had lined up with the wrong king not just once or twice and suffered some most devastating defeat not just once or twice and yet we survived, shedding no tears. We made no effort to cover our past. Humiliation and glory are more closely related than you thought.

Yet today all the bastards, all the soldiers of lost dynasties, appeared like dummies in front of a truly beautiful woman.

"How much?" My father the silent one spoke up first as if he was the least affected by the sight.

"Pa!" roared Erwa my brother who looked like a raging bull, face absolutely red. My father was getting us, the family and the village altogether, into a big embarrassment. My brother hated nothing more than this. There were plenty of folks on the spot who would give a free hand just to get close to the goddess. A few of the strong and hot-blooded young men loved nothing else but to form a human sedan to carry the goddess on their shoulders to wherever she wished to go. To smell her scent, the essence of a beautiful woman that graced our corner of the world in this century. But my father, the quiet man, asked for a price. Could you believe that? Even I felt a little startled by his action. We villagers had our ways of conduct. My father was committing a misconduct, a blatant misconduct. My head almost dropped into my bowl.

"However much you ask, uncle." The man with four eyes was eager to strike a deal. He appeared frail in comparison with the crowd of thick bodies and bronze complexions. Funny the man called my father uncle. In actuality, my father was no more than four or five years older than he was. But looks were very deceiving as my father looked at least a century old in comparison. The man with glasses was also very fair. He shaved so closely that his chin appeared bluish thus looked at least 10 years younger than his age. That was a clear sign indicated that he worked indoors. Indoor folks were revered by folks in our part of the country. We had been defeated many times but we harbor no hard feelings for those who worked for the ruling family. Whoever has stuff upstairs is a talented me that we respect. We as a town had tremendous respect for those with good intelligence and education. Maybe it was a statement that we did not choose to be ignorant and unruly.

"How about twenty?" mumbled my father under his breath, avoiding eye contacts with any one and afraid that my brother would scream at him again.

"Twenty yuan, that was a lot of money. Are you out of your mind? You are crazy, Pa!" protested my brother immediately, even before the man with glasses could replied.

"It's OK. Twenty it is." The man was happy to get the deal done so quickly as he turned around to attend his goddess wife and luggage. The real magic was that my brother was reduced to nothing but heavy breath whenever that man spoke up.

"Let me go get my double wheel carrier. Erwa, are you coming?" My father was afraid to look in the direction of my brother while begging the roaring lion to give him a hand.

"No! No way! I am not coming with you to lose my face that way." Erwa thought about smashing his dinner bowl against something but there was still dinner in it. He did the right thing, for we might have trouble financing another bowl for him. At the end he just kept his red face, staring at my father and breathing heavily. I was afraid that the veins on his neck would explode and blood would shoot up sideways. Poor guy.

"I will go with you." I quickly finished up my dinner. It was one of those occasions that I must stand by my father before his tears came out to make the situation more unbearable for all of us. I never liked his tears. We were laughable thus we needed to grow some thick skin. Tears was really for the weak. Wait a minute, my father was weak. Anyway.

My father sighed. "It will be a hard ride, Sanwa." Sanwa (the third son) was my nickname. My father seemed to have forgot my real name. I was the third in the family. Da Shan, Shansheng, or the Sound of Mountains, died soon after his birth, something my father blamed himself for the rest of his life.

"Sanwa, the road between here and Black Rock is so rough and winding that it will break your fanny just hauling an empty double wheel carrier." Remarked a smart ass villager.

"But a deal is a deal, you know that, uncle." He turned to my father and laughing out really loudly. Sinister laughter. I hated those bastards with mean spirits. They always complained that the grapes were sour simply because they weren't getting any. Too much defeat made us bitter. I am not sure that some of us did not shoot their own in the back. There was reason for us to be trotted in mud and forgotten. Too many events in the course of centuries, we seemed to deserve our fate now. The f*** with them.

My father got up and went to fetch our double wheel carrier and some spare rope. Soon a mountain was piled up on our carrier as the wheels were screeching from underneath. It was quite a load.

"Sanwa, you know that Pa is selling us short today because it's more than twenty yuan worth of sweat and toil." My father kept on mumbling to keep himself going and to make me feel better. He carefully tried to avoid looking at the direction of the goddess for the fear of gossip perhaps. He was after all a widower. Who knows? Maybe he sold us short just to get close enough to sniff the scent of the goddess. But he appeared to be all business as he directed me to tie the ropes here and there while my dear brother puffed and huffed aside. For the moment twenty yuan seemed to make my old man look clean. Greed is not crime but indecent thoughts are.

"Those folks look like they had run into trouble in the city. We have to treat them decently here."

I looked up at my father first puzzled then nodded.

Along the way we learned that this man with glasses was Dr. Ouyang, a famed young surgeon in the city of Xi'an, who was dispatched to work in our town hospital. Because he disagreed with the Party line, they sent him down to get some reeducation. Because he grew up in Goose Landing Rock, he was being sent there as a punishment.

Oh, I see. Goose Landing Rock and the Ouyang family, both had legendary tales to tell. Ouyang family used to the chief monk of the Goose Landing Temple which locals called Black Rock. Nobody knew when but the monk was ousted and the temple was closed. So the monk got married. This Dr. Ouyang was the monk's only son. My father must have realized that at the instant when Dr. Ouyang approached us.

Dr. Ouyang was a nice man, warm and talkative, although his eyebrows were twisted all the time. I really enjoyed the fact that he paid attention to little details which my father and other villagers tended to ignore. Maybe intelligence is the ability to comprehend, capture, enlarge and find the significance in details and nuances.

"Such a foolish young man," my father still mumbled on under his breath. "City life is like heaven. It's so hard to get out of the bottom of the pit. Nobody wanted to return. Such a fool. One has to learn to bend his neck once in a while, for the sake of food in the dinner bowl of course."

Meanwhile, it became painfully clear that the Goddess was in a deep fury at the situation she and her family were in now. Her name was Wen Mingmin, daughter of a famous surgeon in Xi'an. She was a nurse in the same hospital with Dr. Ouyang. When she was in her dating days, she had many handsome and well-placed pursuers in the form of newly graduated medical students. She chose Dr. Ouyang, because her father treated him like a genius. But her choice first got her husband into the tug of war triggered by jealousy then both her father and her husband into political trouble. Some men who had strong interests in her were now holding high offices. Revolution was an opportunity for ants and thugs. Now was the time for the thugs to step on the head of the genius and urinate down his neck. It was f** crazy. Dr. Wen Zhenzhong, the revered master surgeon, was made into a janitor cleaning toilets and sweeping streets. And the new star, Dr. Ouyang, was being sent down to the mountains where here was born. To Wen Mingmin's credit, she chose to come with her husband.

4.

Goose Landing Rock is at the point where three provinces join, Shaanxi, Henan and Hubei. The joint of three provinces or ancient states is a mystery spot.

A daring stream flies down from the wide-shouldered mountains from the Shaanxi side, that's Eagle Fly Creek. There isn't much water in the flow actually. However, the height of the mountains and steepness of the slopes push that small stream of water off rocks and their horrifying formations. As they say in Chinese, when the mountains are barren, the water is also vicious. An angry eagle jumps off the ugly protruding mountains and stirs up a valley full of vexatious virility in the form of mist and shrieking noise. Yang Qi or the energy of Yang over-spills the valley and the 50 mile radius. Screaming, crying, echoes, mists, non-stop noises, this part of world is alive and kicking, thousands of years and still going.

Small Goose River from the Henan side, however, has more than ten times of the water flow, compared to Eagle Fly Creek. By contrast, she strolls leisurely around the mountains and through the valleys, plays with flowers and birds, kisses grasses and tree leaves, clear to the river bed, tender and sweet. Small schools of little fish of bright colors and strange fins can be seen with vivid details in the body of her dancing water. One can stop and count the pebbles down and under. Small Goose River also sings, in her small voice, tender voice. Only attentive ears can hear, of course.

Small Goose River and Eagle Fly Creek meet, exactly at the provincial border between Shaanxi and Henan. The strangest thing is that the joining of two rivers does not produce a bigger river. Goose Landing Valley is green, fantastically green all year long. Big trees with giant leaves block off everything. The sky is never blue and the clouds never drift. Shades, damp shades forever. Outside world ceases to be. The Goose Landing Valley forest grows too thick for birds to fly through or wild animals to pass. Even the most seasoned hunter has to take a detour here. Such a thickness seems to be a conspiracy. A cover-up of a secrecy with the size of the heaven or the earth. It's all peaceful inside the forest. But nowhere could the sound of a running river be heard. There is no river, there is no water. Period. It is all dry, all gone. Big tree trunks join each other to lift up smooth black rocks of giant proportion. There is a heavy, heavy silence guarded by all the rocks. Rocks, rocks, lips all sealed.

Goose Landing Valley rock is as smooth as black marble; clean, no dust can land on it, no moss can grow on it. Don't even try to walk on it, for you might slip and fall and crack your skull. You might become liquid and disappear into the thicket of rocks. Locals call them black gold. Heavy, and silent. Rocks, rocks, lips all sealed.

The thick jungle stretches a few miles to the banks of the Crimson River; yet in the backside of this majestically mysterious forest, there is a huge rock, black in color of course, lying there peacefully amidst some of the tallest trees that could be found in the three provinces combined. The rock has roughly a rectangulor shape, about 10 yards wide and 20 yards long, shining like a black mirror. As if blessed with divine power, it cuts out a small inner world of interesting size in a heavily guarded or even hostile environment. The surface of the rock is so even and smooth that one easily envision divine design. There must have been a heavenly ax that cut it to make this magic mirror, a mirror so shiny and so black that every particle of dust shall slip off and moss shy away from growing on it. Legends say that when the sun reaches the pinnacle at midday, all kinds of colors dance and weave around the rock, a magic world of charm and beauty is created and destroyed in a matter of a few minutes. And really not many common soul have witnessed such a magic in the corridor of time. However, a few dynasties back, a high court official passed this place on his self-awarded plain-clothes vacation. For the deeply devoted Taoist, wandering the mountains was his way to pay his pilgrimage. He was the one who saw everything, including the dancing colors. That moment of heavenly revelation inspired him to the point of contemplating about resigning from the emperor's court and becoming a hermit right here at this spot. However, the images of his wife and children and all other this-worldly things pulled him back from his day dream. Instead, he ordered and allotted funds to build an exquisite temple around the rock, Black Gold Mirror or Buddha's Halo. A small pagoda was erected at the spot where the two waters join. That minister was a meticulous man, he emphasized that no one shall touch the rock. Any blemish would result in severe punishment. All the building material must be taken from outside of the forest. The trees that must be cut down for the sake of the temple should be buried with due respect. It was quite a spectacle and yet persuasive in a Chinese way. There is a higher logic in the Chinese way, so it seems.

The temple is small in size but rather extraordinary in craftsmanship, all the doors, windows, walls and gardens are carefully laid out and decorated with class and taste. Red pine trees are cut from elsewhere to erect this great pagoda of five stories, the high point of the pagoda is about a few feet above the tall trees around it. The entrance of the pagoda faces the Crimson River, or the South. It is a miracle, a small man-made treasure sways her elegance in the majestic ocean of nature, preserving its holy harmony by adding serenity and dignity, something that lasts in one's heart and soul till the end of time.

Of course, the pagoda is called Goose Landing Pagoda. Did the minister believe that the Small Goose (River) was indeed struck down by the Flying Eagle (Creek)? Maybe his learning into the Taoism blessed him with the insight that this rock is the bed of Mother Goose, the goose of them all. The fact is that hordes of geese come and go, in their particular formation which resembles the Chinese character 'person' or Ren. It has been a long, long time, since the temple and the pagoda were first built. Nobody remembers anything now. The same can be said about the three provinces which used to be independent states with their own kings and princes. Yet, nobody remembers. Goose Landing what? The only thing that is still certain in many minds of the locals is that wherever there is a temple, that spot must be blessed with exceptional Fengshui. Maybe Mother Goose was a phoenix? You prove to me otherwise. Never mind that two rivers disappear here. They may have flied high and dove deep. Centuries have passed, dynasties have changed and died, only the super craftsmanship still stands above winds and storms of all sizes.

And also nobody knew when the temple suddenly were attended by civilian monks, or monks who were married with children. Even the chief monk changed his Taoist name back to his civilian name, He was an Ouyang. Ouyang might also be the family name of that minister but no one has anything to prove it, right or wrong.

The sound of the wind bells only makes the forest seem more dense, silent and even mysterious from time to time. The sound has this unique quality, not too loud from distance or even under the pagoda. And through the years, the wind bells never stopped tingling. Not even in my dreams or unconsciousness, that clear summer night sky.

5.

My eyes were opened rather wide. Perhaps my eyeballs popped out a bit, when Dr. Ouyang's daughter, Ouyang Luoyan, appeared in my field of vision. The amazing thing that mattered a lot to me was that she was exactly my age. I couldn't believe that she had been with us all the time and had her eye on me all the while.

That day she experienced a devastating case of motion-sickness. Given the condition of that bus, a man as strong as an ox would come out sick, let alone a ten year old. Ouyang Luoyan was so weak physically that she could not stand on her own feet after getting off the bus. So she sat on the luggage in a corner all the while when all the deals were made, laughter exchanged, jealousies flamed and suppressed; and finally everything loaded onto the carrier. There were simply too many people around and I was too embarrassed to raise my head to look around while assisting my father and feeling indecent about working for a lousy twenty yuan.

"Maybe your little girl would like to take a ride on the carrier. She doesn't look particularly well. You can see the load is so large that having her on top shouldn't make any difference." My father halted the carrier and stretched his head out to ask Dr. Ouyang just as we got out of our village. Dr. Ouyang followed behind the carrier with his wife to safeguard the load in case anything popped loose. Girl? What girl? That was when I turned around and saw a frail young girl with a pair of crystal clear eyes holding Dr. Ouyang's hand. There was, ah, so much calm, incompressible calm, and, ah, maturity. Feminine maturity wielded so much power over us pre-teen boys. Her eyes provided the strongest positive counter force that kept all the seemingly bleak forces at bay. She provided the leadership for her parents, instead of the other way around. Courage and firm belief in her faint smile ironed out every crease that creep up into our life and our foreheads. There were so many sad wrinkles around those days.

I must look like a fool when I stared at this precious gift of life and was deeply lost in my budding and unclear thoughts. There she was, smiling at me, more brightly than ever. That was when the sunset at her most glorious. My goodness, where did she come from? Or which heavenly chamber did she descend from? Would the Heaven send troops to capture her and take her away from all of us? Ah, good heavens, please have mercy. She was extremely frail, pale and even ashy. Yet her frailness erased all the sadness on our land of yellowness and that sad shade of crimson, all components of barrenness. Who dictates to us life must thrive on a lifeless corner of this vastly expanding universe?

"Let's move it, Sanwa." My father hushed me along as if I was a little pony, a little carrier puller. I turned back and dropped my head down, pulling the rope on my shoulder really hard. Oh, those eyes! Oh, those eyes! I didn't know what magic she possessed, her eyes cast down on me with so much gravity that the landscape of my soul was forever changed. The dikes of my imagination were burst. My life started a new chapter, with color, all kinds of color, bright and dim, spectacular and depressing. All my senses were overwhelmed at the same time. I didn't know how to describe it, a force that was so primitive and yet so powerful. So lively. I thought I understood how the villagers felt when they first saw Wen Ayi (Chinese spelling for Auntie) off the bus. But it's hard for me to elaborate my own feeling towards Luoyan now. There was more, eh, beauty in my heart and much less dirt. Suddenly I felt my father was right that we had to be nice to those folks. Suddenly I didn't feel embarrassed by what my father and I were doing for a lousy twenty yuan. Suddenly I felt strong and could fly in the air pulling, no, carrying the carrier all by myself. Suddenly I was annoyed that Erwa the idiot might change his mind and rush up to join us. Good thing that the stubborn mule couldn't get over with his own feelings in his life.

I was dying to talk to Ouyang Luoyan but didn't know what I wanted to tell her. Maybe I ought to tell her that there was a river lost between our town and Goose Landing Rock. We kids went to and played around the silent forest a lot. We love our Small Goose River and its clear water and round pebbles. Sometimes we forgot how deep the water was or how much a force the flow of the water possessed. One of our little friends once tripped and fell due to a sudden fear and disorientation while wading through the seemingly shallow water. We were all scared and shrieked. The river appeared shallow because we could see the riverbed. I had this feeling for a long time, ever since I was born: a picture perfect sight in the bright morning sun suddenly bring out the dark fear of death and injury. Little hearts panic and tears flow. Still that the picture perfect scenery preceding the disaster would linger in my heart forever until I am one hundred years old. Now I was dying to describe it to someone who could appreciate its simple but deep meaning. However, no one cared. Now, in Ouyang Luoyan I saw hope. There seemed to be a ripple or two in my heart. I wanted to talk. Everyone, please take a look, look how much eloquence had been choked under my throat. Please, everyone, please look around to see how much pride our mountains, waters, land, soil, trees and grass, possess. There is such an ocean of beauty, both in the landscape around us and deep in our heart and soul. Small Goose River has side lakes, the size of puddles and there would be schools of little fish doing their synchronizing swimming. The sights always touch my heart. Because of the wonderful sights around us, I for one didn't seem to mind the material poverty that plagued our life. Again, there was no one who would appreciate the depth of such beauty. There shouldn't be so much sadness. There ought to be a world full of Ouyang Luoyan and her smile.

I wanted to say it out aloud that Eagle Fly Creek sings, it's beautiful music, music that is ancient and everlasting. Loud, yes, but very, very sad, thus very, very beautiful. The music and its beauty drive me mad, absolutely mad. But because of this madness, my heart and soul can never leave this land, no matter how far my body has left. The sound of falling water and the wind bells harbors my soul. And the soul needs a home.

"You were so kind. I never saw so much kindness in a pair of eyes in my life. No, that was not it. You were so deep, there was so much in your eyes and you were struggling to hold it back, though I doubted you could articulate fully of what you had in mind. I can't describe it myself but I could see it. I still see it in your eyes. My father used to tell me that there was a lot beauty in that part of the country. I was not touched. The natural beauty was kind of expected. It was actually a little sad, pale and less lively. But in your eyes I have seen something much deep and vast." Luoyan told me approximately twenty or so years after that double-wheel carrier day. I remember I looked at her while she was peeking at me from the behind of her father and the enormous carrier. She tried to smile but it was more like a frown, one that pained my little heart. She was suffering. So was my heart, for her.

Luoyan was quite adamant in refusing the ride. Unlike our way of life where parents petty much decide everything for us, whether we like it or not. The Ouyang family members enjoyed equal rights. Luoyan seemed to have an upper hand in decisions from time to time. It was Luoyan, for example who got her mother off the carrier when we faced a stiff climb. Plus, the fresh country air had brought life back to her and her smile had become giggles. In her stead, her mother the goddess took my father's offer as the country road was torturing her leather shoes and her delicate feet. My father held the double handles of the carrier like a lead horse and I was given a rope pulling the cart in the front as the rope bit deep into my frail shoulder. I was a calf, a pony. I didn't care. I was happy, frightfully happy. I was frightened by the presence of so much beauty. Meteor never lasts. Yet deep down I was thankful for her coming.

The road to Goose Landing Rock on this side of the forest was bumpy but the field was relatively flat. Soon we had to wind around the forest and its many black rocks. Steering the carrier was now a trick which my father could handle easily by manipulating the carrier with his prowess and experience. It would have been quite a show had the queen paid any attention to the wrinkled premature man. The goddess was mighty unhappy that Dr. Ouyang had politely asked her to come down to ease the load. Now, as we climbed rather high in altitude some part of the road took brute strength. It was like carrying 500 pounds on bare shoulders going uphill. Dr. Ouyang was kind enough to give us a hand. So did little Luoyan. The goddess got off our shoulders, that was her contribution.

Luoyan was tentative at the beginning around us. But quickly she became her relaxed self. She came to the front of the carrier walking side by side with me when the road became flat and went back to rear to push the carrier with her father when the going got touch. She tried to relieve me the rope but my father told her that she ought to take it easy.

"You don't want to get sick, young girl." My father was such an explicitly loving man that day. Not only did Ouyang Luoyan listen to my father but she also was very appreciative of the advice. We of course had seen silly guys and single women work themselves sick and thus chronically ill. There were too many examples. There was silence. But the silence was like some kind of bonding. We were like a family, with my father as the grandpa.

When we finally climbed out of the valley, Luoyan asked me. "Do you go to school, Sanwa?" Yeah, she even got my nickname right.

"Fifth grade. And my name is Qi Shuisheng." My face was red. I had no idea what to do with so much beauty and warmth. All in one day, that was too much. Sometimes too much good things for poor souls like me and my father was usually followed by really bad things. It scared my heart to submission, to alertness, to face too much goodness.

"Sound of Water, that's a nice name." Ouyang Luoyan was being sincere.

"My Sanwa is the top student school. He scores 100 points on everything." My father spoke in such a calm and proud voice that I hadn't known he was capable of. He was often too quiet to be noticed or heard even. He was a confident man that day. He had his own angle, trying to impress the beautiful guests, maybe.

"Really? You look really smart. My papa tells me that this part of the country has excellent water and beautiful mountains. Consequently it produces many smart kids. Of course he himself grew up here. However, I believe him now." The long walk did not wear down but revived the frail princess. She started to smile brightly. But like her father, she had this background frown, something her mother did with exaggeration.

"I am also in fifth grade," added she, winking at me. She was quite different from girls in the village, looking shy but really very outgoing. She was proud of her beauty but treated it as part of her strength, instead of fragility. I liked that in a girl. Beauty also needs presentation.

"You know, my father will work in the hospital in your town. I may come to join you when school starts this fall. We may become classmates."

"That will be really nice. But you know it will be a long walk from the Goose Landing Rock, going around the forest and all."

"I will stay with my papa during the week." She was confident, that was part of her beauty. Too much bashfulness makes life difficult for everyone. Yet that was basically our culture.

6.

I really looked forwarded to having Luoyan come to our school all summer. It was such a lively desire that led to dreams of going to school with Ouyang Luoyan. Reason? Not so clear to put in words. I even didn't know how to act in her company because there would be eyes watching, lips talking and tongues slapping. One thing was clear that it would be so exciting to be able to see her everyday. There would be no dark days. The idea kept me awake day and night. For the first time in my life I couldn't wait for the summer vacation to be over. I even felt that the road leading to Goose Landing Rock appeared beautiful as if a halo of some sort bouncing up and down. I spent a few mornings looking at that road and lost in silly thoughts.

Of course Ouyang Luoyan never showed at our school when the school started. Soon we saw Dr. Ouyang's name was painted on the hospital wall many times with red strokes rudely crossed on the top. He was a rightist, an anti-revolutionary, a reactionary, a revisionist ... Whatever. Those were all serious names, names that could mean torture, dark room, and even death. He had to stand in the front of the whole hospital, his face all red and sweaty, to be criticized as the revolution in our town finally found a big fish to fry. Fists were raised in the air and loudspeakers were installed on top of trees and rooftops so that the whole town could hear. We kids climbed on trees after school to witness the ferocious events a few times. My heart jumped up and down in great fear and bewilderment. I was angry, not at Dr. Ouyang of course but at those crazy people who appeared so ignorant. And so ugly. I felt sad for Ouyang Luoyan but happy in a sense that she was not in town. I hated to see her being embarrassed. I would rather take it for her, though I don't know how. Most of all, I felt terribly wronged on her account. Compared with Dr. Ouyang, Ouyang Luoyan and even Wen Ayi, all the rest of us were like dirt, ignorant dirt. Who gave us the right to spit in his face, not the other way around?

"Pa, Dr. Ouyang was locked up in the back of the hospital, in the mortuary." I was in some panic and tried to hold back my anger. Somehow the double wheel carrier trip made me feel that Dr. Ouyang was part of the family.

"This is all crazy, Sanwa." Pa fell in deep silence, only his tobacco pipe was going, on and off, off and on.

"Sanwa," after a few moments of his customary silence my father called me for attention, "can you climb a tree with a bag on you?"

"Yeah, I can do that. What's for, Pa?"

"We have to send some food to Dr. Ouyang. That's the least we can do now."

"Yeah, yeah, good idea, Pa. I can climb the tree and get into the hospital with no problem."

"But we have to wait until it is dark. If any one sees you, all of us, especially Dr. Ouyang, will get into bigger trouble."

"I know that. I will be very discreet." Actually, I have more than one person in my mind.

So Pa cooked up some dumplings, with fried eggs and fresh vegetables as filling. He put them in a tin can and I tied it up with a piece of cloth around my waist. I strut on the street casually. Good that I was as small as a cat. Nobody noticed my wiggling around. In our part of the world the revolution was kind of day thing only, a show. At night, all the dogs fell asleep. There wasn't even a guard on duty in case Dr. Ouyang escaped. On the other hand, it was also infuriating negligence because it was very possible that Dr. Ouyang could commit suicide in the face of great embarrassment and hopelessness. My father reminded me of that fact when I came back and told him about that seeming positive situation.

The moment my hands touched the tree trunk in the dark, I was scared. My courage ran out completely when I landed in the back of the hospital. It was pitch black. The mortuary dug out a special place in our little hearts. We were scared by the dead and there were plenty of dead who passed through this room.

I walked with all my body hair standing up on the feet. I was sweaty and yet the sweat was cold.

"Dr. Ouyang..." I was afraid to knock and my voice was almost gone.

"..." My heart was jumping out of my throat when I heard no response. I started to walk back. Actually I wanted to run back to that tree.

"Dr. Ouyang." I couldn't go back. Pa would twist my ear off.

"Yes, who is that?"

"It's me. Shuiwa."

"Shuiwa. I am so happy to hear your voice. But what are you doing here at this hour?"

"Pa cooked some dumplings for you. It's still warm." I was much relaxed.

Then I heard Dr. Ouyang sobbing.

"What's wrong, Dr. Ouyang? Are you hurt?"

"No, Shuiwa. Just a moment ago, I felt dead, lying in the middle of the room in which many died in the past. Now, my feelings are back. I can even cry. I am so grateful, to you and your father."

"You know, Dr. Ouyang. Pa said that you have to finish the food and I have to take the empty can back. Otherwise, there will be evidence."

"I know. It's delicious. Really delicious."

"Pa asked me to tell you not to think too much and take it a day a time."

"I know, Shuiwa. Every time I feel tired or hopeless, Luoyan's face comes to me. And his mother, your Wen Ayi. And please tell your Pa that I will be all right."

We got the routine mapped out for us. Whenever they locked Dr. Ouyang up, I would climb the tree. Dr. Ouyang wasn't too sad any more. He actually winked at me once when I was watching him being criticized on the tree with my friends. But I didn't smile. I was too angered.

7.

That year Ouyang Luoyan was supposed to come to our school and didn't, we had a new transfer student, nonetheless.

She came in really quietly behind our teacher, tall, pale or fair, thin, shy and withdrawing. Amazingly, she had this gray dress on which made her look like a Chinese nun. Only her eyes were lively, big, moist and shiny no matter how she tries to dodge gazes from other people. Our teacher, an old lady, was very pampering of shy ones. The young girl had the looks that she did not grow on rice, flour, vegetables. Definitely no meat, no eggs or other fattening stuff. Instead, she was nurtured by air, pure water, so it seemed.

"Today, we have a new transfer student, her name is Lin Yuxuan. Look here, Jade and Mystery. I want all of you to be nice to her. Yuxuan, come here, tell me where you want to sit. If you don't want to choose, I will choose it for you."

"I want to sit next to him." Her lean and elegant finger pointed at me as if she made up mind up before she even set her feet in our classroom.

"Good choice, Qi Shuisheng is a real good student and a very caring young person."

It was no accident that Lin Yuxuan chose to sit next to me. I had seen her before, many times actually. But we never had any conversation with words. We might have spoken in volumes with our eyes. She had been a fixture, a statue in my life for years. It struck a nerve in me when she stepped into the classroom. When she saw me, a faint smile appeared on her face. It was a mysterious smile but I liked it very much. I knew she was quiet but not necessarily shy. Not shy with her eyes, that is. My heart sped up a bit, for now I felt that I could finally talk to her, with actual words.

Auntie YueYue, my mother's younger sister, was married to someone with the nickname Iron Abacus on the banks of the Crimson River. Because the land there was relatively flat and soil much more fertile, life was much easier down there than up here. Port Lin was what the village was called as a couple of boats carried people across the Crimson River. This little port had grown considerably over the years simply because the cross province express way runs through the erstwhile five family inn for hunters, lumber hustlers, Goose Landing Temple visitors, and of course bandits. Our area was famous for bandits, due to the fact that none of the three states or provinces paid much attention here. Lawlessness was daily life. Hordes of bandits scattered around the mountains that hugged the borders of Hubei, Henan and Shaanxi.

Port Lin was the final stopover between the relatively flat land and the wild mountains or the civilization and the underground wilderness. This little port town used to be an important stop for travelers because the inn owners kept whatever the travelers forgot to bring or have run out. Yet the business was at the scale that only five or so families could survive. But when the road was built, things started change drastically. Some hunters decided not to return to their homes thousands of miles away; some of them went back and brought their families over here. First villages started to mushroom around the port and soon they became one big town.

Then Communists came and they showed no mercy whatsoever to bandits. The Communists essentially choked the livelihood off the bandits as many of them were captured and executed. The rest of them left. So suddenly there were more smiling faces who owned some newly developed properties in Port Lin, West Qi and other villages. One thing was clear that our mountains could hide a lot.

The real boom was in the lumber business. Despite the ever tight control by the government, people build houses. Nesting instinct is in Chinese baby cry. It's a stubborn ambition. If a man can build a house for his family, his name will be remembered for generations. House-building is the sure sign of material success. And there has been population explosion; houses, many houses are needed to be built. Plenty of lumber has been smuggled through this port town. Lumber hustlers not only open their trading yards here and even started a twice a month lumber fair here to attract hustlers from more than three provinces. Again the vital factor is that transportation had become an advantage here. The mighty Cultural Revolution only managed to suspended the lumber fair for two short years. Unlike bandits, lumber hustlers do not like conducting business amidst flying bullets as the revolution did reach a crescendo of riffles and machine guns. Maybe this remote part of the country was hungry for some of the metallic sound effects. Guns were made to be shot, not hidden in basement. Certain political refugees tried to escape the city and seek hideouts here and their pursuers came right on their heels. Old-time sharp shooters shot down some moving targets for the heck of it.

Iron Abacus, the sly lumber hustler who took Auntie YueYue as his wife, owned his own yard. However, this bastard would rather sleep in the gate house up front to guard his lumber than with this gorgeous woman who was my aunt, my childhood idol. He never touched her in her life. Nobody touched her. A beautiful woman was laid there wasted in an enormously large and luxurious house by local standards. The big house was like her coffin. She was locked in from the day she was married until the day death took over.

Auntie YueYue got no child, of course. Highly debatable was if she ever had any sex in her life. My mother died shortly after giving birth to me and it was almost automatic that Auntie YueYue came to take care of us. She would have adopted me had her husband not been so strange. Anyway she would come twice a year to wash and saw for us. I was basically brought up by her. Actually I was the only privileged visitor allowed in Auntie YueYue's house. She fed me, dressed, and slept with me. When I was a baby, I held her round and firm breasts to go to sleep and woke up. But when I was eight, her husband told her that I couldn't sleep with her any more. If I had to sleep over, I must sleep in the gate house up front.

The gate house was the biggest mystery. I was scared the first night. But soon I discovered that Uncle Iron Abacus did not sleep in the gate house during the night. He would leave the house around midnight and returned before dawn and sometimes even later. That was great because I also sneaked out after him and went to sleep with Auntie YueYue. She was so warm and held me so tight. I would come back before he did. Nobody was in way of anybody's business.

There was something definitely going on between Auntie YueYue and my father. They didn't talk much in words but with their eyes, sort of like between me and Lin Yuxuan. Auntie YueYue was always happy to come to see us, though ours was small and shabby, in contrast to hers. Of course, during the days of Auntie YueYue's visit, my father had to go down to help Uncle Iron Abacus out. It was a barter of labor and a calculated move to avoid gossip and its harmful force. Iron Abacus would give my father some cash so we can get salt and soysauce and other little necessities in life.

Lin Yuxuan was Auntie YueYue's next door neighbor. Her family used to own the inn. But the Communist revolution reduced the value of the property a great deal. The real trouble her family had was there was no male child in her mother's generation. Her mother was the only child. And the biggest open secret was there she, just like Lin Yuxuan, had no father. She couldn't marry out and although many hunters, hustlers, such as Uncle Iron Abacus when he was young, had their hots on her. To marry into a woman's family without a legitimate father was too shameful even for a bandit.

However, there was no argument that Yuxuan's mother, Aunt Qingyin, was a local goddess. Auntie YueYue paled in comparison. Legends said that once Aunt Qingyin shed her clothes under a full moon to take a bath in a hot summer night, the moon dimmed. And many dogs barked and horses neighed in high pitched voice and excitement. It was amazing that when there were so many bachelors who couldn't find a woman, any woman, a goddess remained unmarried. There must be some one all powerful residing in the mountains or temples who wanted Aunt Qingyin to remain available forever.

What we heard was that the verdict from Goose Landing Temple was that she was to remain a nun to avoid catastrophe and to save a great many, she was to sacrifice pleasure for people she would never meet. In spite of such a holy order, she gave birth to this cute little girl, Yuxuan, and the gossip was somehow suppressed on this scandal. No one was talking about this. It was like a river lost. There was a lot we didn't hear and were not allowed to discuss.

Those were all adult affairs. What mattered to me was that every time I went to see Auntie YueYue, Yuxuan would be sitting under the gate house in the front of the old inn, doing something or nothing. She was there as if waiting for me to come. She was very fair, frail, and silent. What charmed me was her smile. She had that smile on her face all the time. It was like a dream that never ended. I didn't remember she was upset even once. Sometimes curiosity would take me close to her. I wanted to take a good look at her. She never seemed to notice me. I could only imagine her eyes were beautiful because her eyelashes were extremely long. Oh, the silhouette of her under the sunset was something for poetry. Yuxuan was one of the things in my childhood that supplied me with endless warm memories and imagination.

One evening I tried to walk up to her to say something or anything to or just a smile at her. But Uncle Iron Abacus jumped up from nowhere to scold me with such fury. "Don't even think about approaching her, you bastard."

I felt terribly wronged by that horrible facial expression on his face and told Auntie YueYue about this. That was the first time I saw her cry. "It's all wrong, Shuiwa. It's all terribly wrong."

In any event, Lin Yuxuan and I grew up together a I stared at her from distance all those years. We had exchanged a lot with our eyes. Yet little did I know that the gate house was how far she was allowed to wander out, except when she had to go to school.

8.

Fear plays such an important role in our life. Fear makes some of us want to scream and yet keeps most of us quiet for as long as we are sane. Fear makes the majority of Chinese docile wives and gentlemen. Fear brings death to us sooner than later.

I had no idea that Yuxuan would be such a terrific story teller. There was a dark kind of charm in her voice and in the way she chose her words. I felt that sometimes I was listening to a grand old woman speaking to me across centuries. I was the only one she would communicate with words at the time thus it was hard for others to imagine how an ordinary story could gain grotesque meanings in her small voice. Her voice was one of great courage supported by steel nerves that were on the verge of being shattered. So much nuances had been gained and so much room reserved for imagination in her story telling, I don't feel that anyone could penetrate my heart the way she did so masterfully.

"Have you ever run into a wild wolf, Shuisheng?" Yuxuan was the only one in my hometown who addressed me with my real name.

"Hell, no. If I had, do you think I would be sitting here listening to you?" The image of a hungry wolf and its long dragging tongue sent chills down my spin, all the way to my toe nails.

For years Popo (grandma in local dialect) and Mama kept telling me that wolves come to our village each night. Wild wolves have tongues hanging out two feet long, bloody red and slimy, tongues that slap around back and forth to create wind, dark and whistling wind, wind that would scorch one's skin and blur one's vision. There is no magic ointment, no cure, for wolf burns. Ugly scars forever, especially on one's face. Wolves' eyes are green, green fire burning with rage in the dark like graveyard lanterns. Ill-behaved girls would be taken first. Saying so they look at me with such intensity. But I looked away.

"Go to bed as soon as it's dark and keep your eyes shut." Mama keeps reminding me every day with such urgency. Then Popo would come to put cotton balls in my ears. Hear no evil, my angel, and keep your mind clean and heart tender."

Have you ever opened your eyes during the night, Shuisheng?

Uncle Iron Abacus once came by when there was no one around to tell me the story of how to kill a wolf. He tried to smile but I would rather see him cry. He started by telling that one must attack its hip area first. Wolves have heads made of steel but hips of Tofu. Only fools would attack a wolf like attacking a man by hitting its head first with a stick. That would surely make the beast mad. Pain but no structural damage will only turn an ordinary animal into a beast. Not only do mad wolves bite back but also kill. Guys often get hurt, badly hurt, this way. Some of them were eaten alive by a pack of them hungry wolves. Women and children stand no chance. Zero. Only death. To die in a wolf's month is the worst kind of death. Absolutely the worst.

Uncle Iron Abacus did not know how to smile, everything out of his mouth means serious business. I would rather die than hear his stories. They made me sit up in the middle of night all sweaty. And yet I could not cry or even moan. That is when I hear the bed screech in Mama's room and Mama moaned as if in pain or in great happiness. Sometimes I could hear Uncle Iron Abacus moan and cough, too. And he seems to be also in Mama's or Popo's room. Still I learned not to scream. The house is so big, and had many rooms. So many room are now collecting spidewebs and scared souls.

One morning Popo did not come to wake me up. Her body temperature left her completely in one of the rooms of the old inn. We buried her somewhere near Goose Landing Rock. But she comes back often, in the form of an angry ghost, still hushing me to hear no evil. I have to sleep with my door tightly shut and my ears covered with cotton balls to avoid confronting with her wrath. Ghosts are less reasonable.

Strange that she told me that she was the reason that our family inn was such a success. "Guys from many provinces came to see me." She had no shame. Her smile made me look away.

I have no friends. Only you have looked at me all the time. You looked at me with warmth and friendship. You never judged me with your eyes. You had nothing but nice feelings for me. You wanted to be my friend. I see you all the time, in my sleep and during day time. I see you even when I am not looking. You don't know how much I wanted to have a friend. I wanted to have a friend just like you. You know they can tell me to close my eyes but they can't close the eyes in my mind. They can put cotton balls in my ears but they can't clog up my ability to hear. I see people walking in the dark. I hear noises from as far as the mountains beyond Goose Landing Rock. I see Uncle Iron Abacus come to sleep with Popo and Mama for years. I have no interests in what they do. Big deal. There is nothing to scream about. The noises they make, hisses and moans, disgust me.

I don't see wolves. I have never seen any wolves in my life. That's a lie. They want me to shut up. I don't talk. Still I can tell a lie is a lie.

You are different, Shuisheng. You are like pure water coming down from the mountains. You are nice music, though you are quiet. Because of you, I see hope. Because of you, I don't feel lonely in our deserted corner of the world. Because of you, I even feel beautiful.

You know, Shuisheng, you are the first one I am talking to. In the other school, I didn't talk to anyone. No one there was worth my story. They wouldn't understand. They would gossip with wrong ideas in their heads. But Mama said she saw me talk to someone in school in her dreams. So they sent me up here. I know they want me not to talk to those in our town. But I am happy to come to be next you. I am truly happy.

Yuxuan over-estimated my capacity of understanding at that age. She was a few centuries ahead of me. I was really very confused after listening to all those "nasty stuff." But I did promise not to tell any one. It takes a life time or two to digest the depth of Yuxuan's mind. I was just happy to be her confidante.

9.

A year later, we graduated from elementary school and transferred wholesomely to West Qi Middle School on the other side of the same town of ill-fate.

The first day we reported to school, I saw Ouyang Luoyan. I was originally assigned in the same class with Ouyang Luoyan and Lin Yuxuan. Finding her name there excited me. I couldn't believe that. Was that the same Luoyan? That excitement did not last long, however. A teacher of aggressive nature wanted me to be in her class as by then I had a fat reputation as the top student in the radius of 20 miles.

"Shuiwa, Shuiwa. I am so happy to see you. You have grown so much in a year." Being with the shy and reticent Yuxuan for the past year, Ouyang Luoyan burst into the scene like warm sunshine. A year of countryside life did not seem to depress her as much as one would have thought.

"Luoyan." My face was reddened as there were many eyes watching us. Quickly we had reached the age to know the distinctive difference between boys and girls. Our life was so boring that we made a habit of guarding such a line. Maybe we were wishing that some nuts would dare to cross the line to provide us with some cheap thrill.

"I was so happy to find out that you were in my class. But ..." Her face became pink as excitement made her perspire.

"I want to be in the same class with you, too. I have been waiting for a year." My voice became progressively small. I could never dodge the eyes of others who watched us with intense interests.

"Me, too. You know, they sent me to a school up in the mountains. They wanted to separate us from Papa. They thought West Qi Elementary School was too good for me. Hah. But I love the school up in the mountains. The school has nothing but a pretty name, Swallow Tail. Have you ever been up there? It's gorgeous. The air is so fresh. Anyway, the school had no chairs, no desks. A plank high and another low serving as desk and bench shared by five. We had 25 kids. Five grades are crowded in one room with one teacher. He had to teach each grade while the rest of us either watching on or doing our homework. I cried the first couple of days. Then I fell in love with the place. I had never seen any dust-free place in my life. Yes, the poverty was like hell but I felt like I was in heaven. Someday I would like to go back there and become a teacher. People are so pure and honest. Oh, poverty, I know." Tears came down Ouyang Luoyan's cheeks. Her face is so beautiful. I started to feel a deep wrath, a ball of fire raging inside me. They punished Dr. Ouyang wrongly and they also extended the punishment to Luoyan. She had been innocent. She was innocent! Damn it. I felt hopeless and wanted to cry with her, though for different reasons. But there were so many eyes watching us. This must be the most depressing part of our life. We had nothing. Yet we deprive ourselves of everything we could possibly think of. Why should any one even pity us? We deserve part of our fate. We are deplorable, let's make no bones about that.

In the past year Luoyan had grown taller and healthier. She was beautiful a year ago but much more so now in a different way. She was attractive that teachers and students would stop doing what they were supposed to do when she happened to pass by. There was something so goddessly about her that I doubted any of our village kids could ever acquire that air in five lives. Yet she was still sad. She was happy to see me, of course. Still she was sad. Life contributed so much to her beauty and yet life made her sad. Now sadness had become an integral part of her beauty.

During the course of two years in middle school, Luoyan and I couldn't be seen together much at all. It was virtually impossible for us to talk. The line between boys and girls was clearly drawn. A lot of kids put a lot of energy into watching the line. If someone eye-balled someone else who happened to be in the opposite sex, rumor would fly all over town and even to other towns in the area. Something as natural as looking at each other became scandalous. It was crazy. I didn't remember that I said one word to Yuxuan during our two years there, for example. This pitiful development in our kind of human evolution simply reduced two best friends into total strangers.

However, from that day on, I always felt a pair of big crystal clear eyes staring at me, especially during those gatherings, meetings. There were so many god-damn political meetings those days, even for us middle school dummies. Because I maintained my top student status, I was often asked to speak in front of school gatherings and even much bigger audiences at town squares. There were always a pair of eyes in the audience, so luminously beautiful and so obviously sad.

Our middle school was formerly a Buddhist shrine as there were pagodas, pavilions and courtyards connecting through circular gates. It was covered by trees thus always dark, damp and mysterious. One day I was passing one of those circular gates, Luoyan jumped on me from the back of the gate to give me a scare. That was hilarious. I could never forget how Luoyan giggled. And her eyes were always looking at me. Or maybe those eyes were Yuxuan's?

10.

Rumor was spreading fast around West Qi and the surrounding villages that several people saw Wen Ayi take showers under the Eagle Fly Creek and swim in Small Goose River totally naked. She ran naked around the big dense forest and hugged black rocks as if having sex with them. Women are not supposed to expose any unnecessary part of their flesh. Unless she is insane. Wen Ayi lost the control of herself and experienced those periodic nervous breaking downs while forced to be separated from her husband and the comfort of her former life.

"Shuiwa, could I ask you to carry something to our village for my mama?" asked Luoyan one day.

"What is that?"

"My mama's ration of flour. Papa's is too busy to go home this month."

"OK." I knew what busy meant.

"We will take turns. I will carry a while, and you will carry a while."

"Too bad I am not strong enough to maneuver our double wheel carrier."

We talked along the way. Luoyan remarked that the countryside was actually pretty and good for her mind. The revolution was more relaxed here, for example. But life was harder.

"But my mama is becoming crazy. She has no job since the hospital fired her as a nurse."

"Why did they fire your mama?"

"To make it harder on Papa, I guess." She lowered her head.

The revolution seemed to hit Wen Ayi the goddess the hardest. When we got there we saw her, still as beautiful as ever, still in her city clothes, sat in the front of her new home, semi-naked. She cursed many things with her cute profanities.

"You bastards. You want me. Come and have a look. I am free. Not like the zoo in Xi'an where you have to pay to take only a look ... You bastards. Don't dare to knock on my door at night to scare my Luoyan." She started to cry then to laugh. Cry and laugh. She raised both hands high in the air and spun around like a little girl, giggling with tears coming down like a river.

A few kids gathered there laughing at her. Luoyan and I first chased the kids off. Luoyan rushed into the house to get her mama's some clothes to cover her up.

"Wen Ayi," called I tentatively. She looked up and focused her eyes on me then smiled. "Luoyan talked about you a lot. Do you want me to be your mama." She took me into her arms. I was in total red. Luoyan started to cry.

That was the last time Luoyan invited me over to her home.

11.

The middle school was really a two year rush job. We didn't stay in the classroom much and went out to the fields and factories a lot, "to learn from peasants and workers." Our blessing was that we had no military base nearby; otherwise, we had "to learn from some dumb soldiers" who couldn't make it school.

However, those were the years when Luoyan grew slim and tall and breathtaking. She seemed to be calmer and more courageous than her mama. That confidence added a lot to her beauty. She did not purposely alienate the local culture. She appreciated the honesty and the openness of the local culture and refined it with her city rearing.

The agonizing situation between Luoyan and me was that, although we didn't talk much at all, there were still terrible gossips spreading around town. Like she jumped on me around one of the circular gates, it was an important episode of our indecent conduct and contact. It was mostly against me, as though Sanwa the toad dared to taste swan meet. I was made to live at the bottom of the food chain and ground level of the social ladder. There wasn't anything lower than I was. And I'd be better off to stay down there.

At the time, the stormy revolution was tapering off. Dr. Ouyang's political fortune was about to change for the better. Rumor said that the Ouyang family was about to return to the city in a matter of days. That made me think. In a few days the sight of Luoyan would disappear from our land. What wouldn't change was my social status, a cave that offered no exit whatsoever.

At the graduate ceremony, I was honored as the top student of the class. Another speech. Only this time it was non-political. Luoyan somehow got herself situated only a few feet away from me. For the whole afternoon she was looking at me as if she had many words for me.

At the end there was no word spoken. But I sensed that something important was about to happen. Maybe she was leaving.

One day I was assigned by the village to watch out for kids who stole the tender sweet peas. It was a big field so I had to climb onto the top of a tree to oversee it all. It was quiet all afternoon. But just as I was about to doze off, I spotted a little tiny movement at the far end of the field. So I slid down the tree and ran to my subject like a swift cat. There someone was tasting the new crops of our sweet peas.

"Hold on. I got you." I jumped at that person in an ambush style.

"Aah!" It was a she. And she let out a big scream.

"Luoyan. Good heavens. I am sorry to scare you like this."

That was the best moment of our life. By then we were old enough to understand something and feel the real attraction. Still I couldn't put everything in verbal format. Instead, we let our eyes do the talk.

"Sanwa, my papa is getting out of trouble. We may go back to the city soon. My mama is feeling better, too."

"It has been years. How many years?"

"But I don't want to leave so soon." Her eyes spoke a lot of dreams and hope.

"I wish you well. I do." Next thing I know was that she kissed me on left my cheek. Later events proved to me that that kiss was a casual act, something in the variety of mischief. Unfortunately for me, however, I did not take it casually. That kiss put me in an alternate state of mind for days or even months. I became moody, something a man in our part of the world glared at with utter venom. I would easily get bleary-eyed and scream and yell at my father. The poor old man kept on shaking his head. He must have thought that the idiotic Erwa finally converted me.

What really upset me was that I had no way to keep Luoyan, no matter how much I desired her. Now, I was not sexually enlightened at the time. I just wanted to be with her for a little while longer. And yet she was about to disappear totally from our life. Life would fall back to it bottomless abyss.

12.

For some reason, the hospital in Xi'an was not eager at all to take their top surgeon back. So Luoyan stayed on for another year with us in high school. I knew it was none of my business but there were moments I wished she had left. Life comes at us with great contradiction.

Our high school was out of town. We had no idea whose plan it was. This school was built in the middle of a vast area but there was no nearby town. In other words, kids from big towns and small villages alike had to travel a fair distance to get here. And it's a boarding school. We boys stayed in some of the filthiest and broke-down dorms.

Another interesting development was that this high school hosted a bunch of good teachers who were exiled from the cities around. Some came down from as far as Xi'an City, just like Dr. Ouyang, Luoyan's father, in a different field and with a different set of troubles of course.

In high school Luoyan was by far the center of many wide-eyed pursuers. Boys were wild about her. Who could blame them? Luoyan was such a rare beauty that graced our corner of the world; many of us realized that it was our fine fortune to meet one like her in our life time. Of course we had this crazy revolution to thank. Without it we had no chance.

And the boys of the exiled teachers, doctors, writers and poets were ecstatic to meet a beauty queen in this bleak corner of the world. There was nothing more exciting for them. Some of them suddenly realized that they might have been sent here fore a beautiful reason.

At the time I had not grasped the concept of possessiveness. But it bothered me to see some pursuers with better looks, better family backgrounds, city connections, ahead of me. I kept a fair distance from the hot spots. I knew I would never be the winner. I was not even a finalist. I wanted to block everything completely out of my mind. But I couldn't help myself quietly gathering information about what Luoyan did and where she had been every day. The more I knew the farther I was falling off the competition which I didn't have the guts and self-esteem to enter. My life was really pathetic.

This frustration reached a high point and completely knocked me off feet one day when I saw someone kissed Luoyan in the mouth. That boy grew up in the city. His parents' political trouble landed them here in our high school as his mother was teaching chemistry here. By all standards, he and Luoyan were a much better match as both of them would return to the city someday.

As it happened, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. In a gorgeous mid spring evening, the sunset was ever so glorious. Bad things kept happening in a delightful day for me. I decided to take a solitary stroll, something I did quite a bit those days. Just as I thought I found a nice quiet spot for myself, I saw them kissing behind a grove of apple trees which were poised to bloom. The school depended on the apples to get cash to buy teachers some meat and vegetables. If I was not involved, that kissing scene was nothing short of a splendid picture of love and innocence. But I was in no mood to appreciate any form of beauty. My head was swollen to the point of explosion. I almost ran out of the school and staggered to the backside of the campus.

Tell me, you magnificent season of spring, why can't I enjoy your best and warmest day? Why do I to have to be stabbed in front of all the stunning beauty? I tried but my eyes couldn't focus on the valley behind the campus which was full of apricot trees. Oh, the snow white blossoms, so glamourous, so innocent and so young. So much aura. So much radiance. And so much tears coming down my eyes.

There was a huge reservoir which added ample elegance to the valley and the surrounding area. Like everything else, the reservoir had received a few suicides and some involuntary drownings. What was spooky was that when the sadness pierced through my heart like a bolt of lightning, there was a strong pull from the direction of the reservoir. An alluring force, the way was leading. It was weird. After witnessing that someone else, not I, who kissed Luoyan, I no longer felt threatened by this kind of splendid radiance. I felt that I could walk into, as opposed to staying outside, the grove of lovely trees and flowers. A destiny was mapped out for me. I had given up all my resistance.

After the tears ran off, I felt a little better and calmer. I decided to walk down a trail which led down the valley. It was a nice hike, very spiritual and therapeutic. I told myself that whenever I felt down, I should come here for a walk.

Then miracle happened. For the first time in my life, beauty prevailed over hopelessness. I lost interests in the reservoir or I overcame the gravitational pull of the reservoir. The water was softened by the apricot blossoms. The reflection of the snow white beauty produced a fairy land. My mind started churning: I started to wonder how big the grove really was. That thought took me onto a little loop which led to the other side of the campus. On my way, I bumped into Yuxuan. She sat on crossed legs with her hands palm touching palm raised to her nose. Oh, my goodness she was a Buddhist. I almost broke out a laughter. It was such a wicked feeling between tears and laughter. How quickly I forgot I myself was crying like a baby lost just a few moments ago.

"I am a Taoist, Shuisheng, not a Buddhist." Yuxuan could read my mind. She talked to me with her eyes closed for a while. When they were open, I was stunned by the allure of her eyes. Oh, Good heavens. I had no idea how breathtaking Yuxuan had become. She was a treasure covered by a thick forest. Maybe it was because the peachy sunset. But no. Her eyes were not only large but also had had those curving lines radiating from her eye-lids. Her skin was porcelain smooth. But around her eyes, the curves of slightly excessive skin seemed to suggest great contents and depth in her heart, body and soul. Her face was in a perfect oval shape. Lines were ever so soft. And her manner was so calm. And this evening, she chose the best spot to face the setting sun amidst the most spectacular apricot blossoms the world could offer. By comparison, Wen Ayi and Luoyan were no longer good enough to be goddesses. Their beauty was too loud, too flashy. Yuxuan was all calm, all natural and thus all goddess according to our earthy intellect. Goddess is not an appearance but a manner, a style. And maybe a perception.

"I see you everyday, Shuisheng. I see you all the time." Just like the first time we could talk alone in elementary school, Yuxuan started her proverbial monologue. But this time I didn't follow her story.

Oh, that mid-spring evening, new and wonderful things were still sprouting. Before I had the eye to see them, a lot had blossomed quite nicely. I looked at the sunset, the apricot blossoms and then Yuxuan. It was the first time ever that I saw her so closely. I felt her closely, not only with eyes but with my breath. We did sit next to each other for a whole year in elementary school but were never this close. All I could recall was that she was a good student and got to high school with ease. It didn't even register in my mind she was a beauty superior to Luoyan.

If anyone asked me, I wouldn't hesitate to say that Yuxuan made me proud to be a Shangnan guy.

Maybe subconsciously we value our own less than what is imported. Our self-esteem and self-worth are forever under-appreciated. Or maybe we want the challenge to reach for the unreachable. We knew that we were flirting with failure and defeat. It was all part of the process, process of of dying, our dying.

Anyway, Yuxuan had grown a lot during the past two years plus. She had blossomed, more so than other girls in her age group. There were so many sparks in her eyes. OK, OK, a little empty and distant from time to time. She was also very fair, too fair, to be a local girl. But the glow of the sunset put the best make-up of golden and peach on her. There was nothing more perfect in the whole world. After having looked at her for a minute, I suddenly felt completely liberated by the cluster of feelings provoked by Luoyan being kissed in the mouth by another boy. I felt that even Wen Ayi at her prime, the instant she descend the bus for example, offered no comparison to the delicate statue that was Yuxuan. Wen Ayi was hollow, provided no content at all as a person. She was bitter, with attitude problems towards all of us. Maybe Luoyan had the same attitude towards us.

"Yuxuan, you ..."

"Yeah, Shuisheng." She looked at me attentively. She always pays attention. She took all my gaze with calm. She had no fear, after all the years of being threatened by fear by her Popo, Mama and Uncle Iron Abacus. She looked at me, with no expectation but tender sweetness.

We didn't talk much. Yet we stayed there for a long time. When it was dark, we had to return. It was Yuxuan who held my hand to lead me out of the jungle of apricot blossoms. She had steady steps. She walked without looking. She could feel the shape of the ground she was walking on. She could feel the life she was leading. Compared with her, I was still a boy. I felt so strongly about the difference that evening. But I was not ashamed. I didn't let her hand go until we came to the gate of the boarding school, until the absolute last minute of being seen by others.

That night I felt warm, awake, and most of all, I missed Yuxuan. Not Luoyan. It was clear that Yuxuan and I belong to each other. I lied down on the bed and literally staring all night at the clear sky of million stars out of the broken window of our dorm. Sure enough, a meteor fell off the sky. No matter how bright she is, she won't stay with us long. I saw it.

The next day I couldn't wait for the evening to come. After dinner, it was a so-so day without much a sunset. Still I strolled as if casually out of the campus, getting away from several classmates who would like to talk and walk with me. When I got to the spot, Yuxuan was there sitting on her feet with knees pointing out sideways. Her face was calm with her eyes closed. But I saw tears, two long lines of tears on her face.

"It's hard to get where you want after you found out where it is." I tried to be philosophical and using a line read somewhere.

"I have been waiting for you for a long time. I didn't sleep well at all last night." She didn't even attempt to wipe off her tears.

"Neither did I. I saw a meteor falling off the sky."

"I saw it too."

Silence.

"Come to sit next to me, Shuisheng."

"To meditate like you do?"

"Just come. We used to sit next to each other for a whole year, remember?"

That was true. But we were two dumb pre-teens. I went to sit next to her. She leaned on my shoulder. My shoulder was too lean and she fell on my lap, facing up, I see the tears on her eyelashes. She touched my heart.

"Kiss me."

I obeyed, a little confused. I still remember the sensation of Luoyan's quick peck on my cheek. The apricot scent permeated everywhere. We had a long kiss. My life changed. I felt I grown up that night. Most of all, I stopped feeling pathetic. A kiss could rescue a life from its inferno of bleakness.

Yuxuan played a major part in freeing my mind from Luoyan and the hopeless situation. Because of Yuxuan and her silent beacon of light, I could concentrate on my study. This was big, for without that concentration I would never have had a chance to pass the following year's college entrance examination. Then I would have been one of the pathetic Shangnan guys letting the harsh world outside get the best of me. I would never have had the chance to step out of the confines of the mountains to become worldly and to prove to the world that a son of Shangnan mountains could be as good as anyone. Our earth and water are second to none.

The flowers were gorgeous but short-lived. Still we went to the grove often, no matter what kind of weather. We kissed so much and bodies got warm. We would have made love had we not been scared by the high risk that someone would see us. Maybe we were not really ready. In a way, we were blessed because Yuxuan was a local girl. No boys would dare to fall in love by themselves without the proper introduction of a go-between and the support of their parents.

One day, Yuxuan came to me and gave me a pocket English-Chinese dictionary. "Luoyan bought this for you." She looked at me attentively.

"She left," mumbled Yuxuan. She started to cry. My eyes were getting wet. But I kept the tears back. I took Yuxuan into my arms.

"I have you," said I.

"Auntie YueYue, some day I will marry Yuxuan." I tried to share my happiness with her. She was the first one in my mind when I felt that I was deeply in love with Yuxuan.

"..." Auntie YueYue looked at me for a while. She took me to her arms. She kissed me and wouldn't let me go. Then she went to the kitchen to cook.

After dinner, she sat down next to me, looking me in the eye for a long time. I started to blush.

"Shuiwa. Yuxuan is a good girl. She is beautiful and clean. Auntie is happy for you two. But listen, my child, try to take her away from this place. Maybe you two kids can be happy some place else. Not here. Not here. It's like hell here, my child."

Then Auntie YueYue started to cry. It was the most unnerving cry that came onto me. Not particularly loud but genuinely sad and moving. It was the first I took Auntie YueYue into my arms like a man. My strength calmed her down.

"Shuiwa, I can't think that you would leave your Auntie. I will be dead."

"But I love you like my own mother, you know." Ah, I was talking like a man.

Too bad I didn't get married with Yuxuan after I graduated from college. By then Auntie YueYue had passed away at the tender age of 46. The news came, I was still college and went home to attend her funeral fulfilling the role of her son. Yuxuan played the role of a daughter, though they never said one word to each other in life. It was drama of a different kind. Even Uncle Iron Abacus didn't interfere Yuxuan's participation in Auntie YueYue's funeral. Maybe when someone dies in our part of the world, the hatchet is buried, a mountainous custom. Uncle Iron Abacus' health was failing him, too. That was when I found out that he was 20 years older than Auntie YueYue. The bastard.

A year later I graduated from college and got a job in a different city. Yuxuan came to see me. We got married without much a ceremony. She is a wonderful wife, a great lover. Yin and Yang reach great harmony in her hands. We are happy. And happiness brought the best out of her. of course Auntie YueYue was right.

With only a little touch of fashion, she stands out in the big city. I felt so lucky to have someone so beautiful inside out in my life.

13.

Life has such a weird sense of humor. It never fails to create some awkward situation and makes it as part of our routine. For example, I never liked anyone from Xi'an, although I was born close to that ancient and proud city. Most of the folks I had met from Xi'an, with the exception of Dr. Ouyang and Luoyan, were so self-important, self-impressed, self-pompous to the point that I always ended up questioning their attitude and demeanor. They were never tired of talking about their city and themselves. The most glaring problem may be that they had no idea that their city as a whole had fallen way behind the modern world. The past glory was only a nice dream at the best, a dream that had long evaporated into the thin air. They are no longer the center of the world. Or the world of today does not need any center to rotate properly and has left that blue and gray brick city into deep dust. Sadly, Xi'an symbolizes China in many ways.

On the other hand, maybe I had an inferiority complex, coming from the mountains and all. Because Xi'an was the biggest city in our daily life, we had plenty of opportunity to talk about it in details. By the time I was a teenager, I was pretty much fed up with the illness of the city and the behavior of its citizens. I purposely didn't choose any college in Xi'an, though everyone hoped that I would end up there so that they could come to visit me. Staying close to home and the social safety net is an instinct coded in our genes. We have the eye sight of a toad in the bottom of an ancient well.

Here in South Florida, our graduate secretary, Peggy, found that Chen Defu was from Xi'an.

"Shuisheng, aren't you excited? Do you know that the new Chinese student Chen Defu and you came You two come virtually from the same city. Isn't it amazing that two strangers came to the same department in a university an ocean away? There must be some karma between you two wonderful young men. You were born just outside of Xi'an and Chen Defu was born inside of it, right, Shuisheng?" Peggy kept on with her excitement with that motherly smile on her face.

"I guess." I was far too reserved about the news. But Peggy knew that I am normally reserved so she smiled on to cheer me up.

"Take him to a cafe or tea house and have a good talk with him," advised Peggy.

As far as I am concerned, Chen Defu was an OK guy, nothing extraordinary, just another nerd, good at memorizing books, words, without paying too much attention to interrelations and the new meanings created and magnified by the associations of the words. Nonetheless, he was a good Ping Pong partner, basketball buddy, and a nice sidekick essentially. Occasionally he would give me the look: who are you to control my life? Most of the time he followed along like a dog just because I got here two years ahead of him.

Chen Defu had been engaged in a fight against the US Embassy to get his wife over here even before he got here. Their case had become unusually complicated. Just after Chen Defu got here, the US immigration tightened up the admittance for F-2 visas. His wife was turned down three times and she had became extremely agitated. The frustration and humiliation got the better of her, so I heard, and she was threatening divorce. That devastated Chen Defu day and night.

"She said she'd like to give up the idea of coming here. It's too frustrating." Chen Defu almost cried in front of me. Poor guy.

I suggested him to be patient and try something other than F-2. I had no idea that he would take my advice seriously. He went out and got his wife an F-1 student visa from a community college, enrolled her in an ESL program. That plan backfired big time. The visa office had her file on record and the change of status only led the officer to suspect her as a non-returnee, the death sentence for a spousal visa applicant. So her passport was stamped with something like "permanent no entry allowed." Or something in that effect.

It's all your fault. What a terrible suggestion you gave us." Chen Defu was so mad at me that he decided not to talk to me any more. No more following around me. Oh, swell. Even Yuxuan, my wife, who maintained an amicable relation with him couldn't get him over to our place for a weekend dinner. He took our invitation as a show-off. Yeah, right. Qi Shuisheng liked to show off his happy marriage in front of man who had trouble getting his wife over. People from big cities accused us country cousins of many things that we had no idea where they got the idea. Defu, you fool, you need to seek some professional help. Don't you feel the entire world was your nemesis?

The whole turn of events was eating me inside. I must help. I ought to really get my hands dirty to restore my reputation. I didn't know what this drive was about. Maybe growing up in a town of perpetual losers, it's in our genes that we had the passion to dig to the bottom until our our nose gets blown off most of the time. No defeat, no stop.

I am putting my plan in motion. First I I talked with Peggy our secretary. She suggested that we see Professor Sloane, our department chair.

"This is sick. The Justice Department and the State Department purposely want to keep families apart. Such hypocrisy! On the one hand, we use human rights to advance our ideas on poor countries and other the other hand, we don't even treat others in a humane way. This practice really sickens me. Tell you what? Let's write letters to our congressman and senator. I am taking this issue personally. Shuisheng, I need your assistance to track everything down for me. Can you be the coordinator together with Peggy?" Professor Sloane was a former marine and acts like a general sometimes as he hammers my shoulder with a firm look in his eyes.

"You can count on me, Professor Sloane. This is what I came to you for."

All twelve professors, twenty graduate students and eight staff members in our department wrote letters both to the district congressman and the Republican senator as he wielded more influence on Capital Hill. The visa officer in Beijing went off the roof under such pressure. She must have laughed her nose off. She was furious. She stood firm on her decision. "Even the president couldn't overturn her decision." Diplomatic exemption? Whatever. It was now becoming an ugly personal battle.

Now, nothing I did could make Chen Defu happy and his wife refused to go to Beijing. The trips wore her down. My guilt was thickening and made me dizzy. I pretty much had given up. Goodwill does not always bring good result and relationship. I wanted to apologize to Chen Defu but he wouldn't talk to me. Oh, well.

Then something unplanned happened. One day I was invited to the International House to speak about Chinese culture and China Today in front of a group of old alumni. I was such a charming speaker that one of the hosts stayed on to talk to me. We somehow talked about how it has been hard for spouses to join their other halves over here. I even had time to talk about Chen Defu's case. Little did I know that this woman, an old alumnus, was a key member of the US-China Friendship Association. She knew the particular visa officer and was personal friend with the current ambassador, James Lilley. My story infuriated her. She was out trying to put off all the flames of "ugly American syndrome."

"They shouldn't dispatch any Taiwan born personnel to China. It creates nothing but hostile relation," remarked she. Don't you worry, Shuisheng my dear. I will see what I can do."

My Buddha, she was a saint. A month later, the Beijing visa office granted Chen Defu's wife the visa and even wrote to ask her to come and pick up her visa. No lines, no waiting, no humiliation. What a triumph.

All the while, Chen Defu had no idea of the whole transaction and I was in no mood to tell. I wished him happiness also would like to keep an arm's distance from him. Above all, deep down my troubled soul is resurrected. So we quietly got on our business.

I promise myself that I wouldn't subject myself to such a process again. Never again.

14.

"Shuisheng, would you mind driving Defu to meet his wife in the airport tomorrow?" asked Yuxuan.

"Really?  She is coming after all." I didn't even tell Yuxuan about that episode about the woman from US-China Friendship Association.

"Yeah. She somehow got the visa and Defu is really excited. He asks me to drive him to the airport but I am too nervous to go on the freeway."

"OK, I will drive. But I am not so sure Defu wants to come along with me. He hasn't spoken to me for a while."

"He doesn't have too much a choice. It's summer break, not many people are on campus. He doesn't have a car, nor does he have many friends. You are the only one who can help him out right now."

"Yeah, right." What an honor.

Actually, Chen Defu isn't too bitter any more. His wife's coming made him much more easy-going. He was unusually talkative on the way to the airport.

"Luoyan is very beautiful. "

"Uh-humm." So Luo Yan was his wife's interesting. How interesting.

"I am so lucky. If I didn't have the opportunity to come to America, I doubt she would marry me."

"Ah, yeah?  Tell me about it."

"She said that she loves me because I am a good student. But I know I wouldn't have a chance with someone that beautiful under normal circumstances." Well, I agreed. He looked like a toad. His skin had the shades of yellow and brown that it seemed that he forgot to wash his face all the time. And the bone structure of his face was pathetic, a moon shaped face that had no contents on it. Empty. Yeah, he was such a bookworm. Maybe his wife liked bookworms.

"I'm so excited that she can finally come."

"I am happy for both of you." I lost interest in his babbling and my mind started to drift. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. It could be something I had for brunch earlier. My stomach acted pretty weird lately. Good thing that the highway part of the driving was behind us. After I parked the car in the airport parking garage, Chen Defu started to rush, without even noticing how pale I had become. He wasted no time to run to the spot to receive international passengers. I followed along slowly and entered the first man's room. I felt worse after getting out of the man's room and had to grab a bench to sit down.

I started to hallucinated. The mountains of Shangnan, the wind bells of Goose Landing Rock. Ah, these pair of eyes. She came to me, those were the eyes of Ouyang Luoyan. Wait, there was also Chen Defu. What the hell was he doing in my dream?

"Shuiwa? Shuiwa?"

"Luoyan, please don't cry." Oh, my goodness, she cries in my dreams. This has to be a first. What happened to her bright smile? She smiled under strenuous circumstances, that's part of her signature.

Suddenly I woke up, in cold sweet. God damn it, Ouyang Luoyan stood right in front of me. There eyes were real and blinking. This was not a dream. I became confused, embarrassed, saddened and lost. My heart was enraptured and bewildered at the same time as if struck by lightning. My legs were totally gone as I was floating over some thick air, stuffy air, lacking oxygen for sure. I was re-charged with life and falling off a cliff in the same time.

"You two knew each other?" Chen Defu was dumbfound.

"Yeah, we went to school together, junior high and high school." I gained my consciousness for a short instance while Luoyan continued her mighty struggle against the chaotic situation she had just walked in.

"You ... Shuiwa?"

"Yeah, it's me all right." I wiped off the sweat on my forehead and suddenly felt clear, and cynical. Maybe I had cared too much for too long.

"Wait a minute, how could Luoyan go to the same school in the countryside with you?"  Countryside is the only thing Chen Defu felt superior to me.  And he kept reminding me of that every ce he got.

"His father was in political trouble and they were sent to our area. Let's go. I have to get back home soon."

Luoyan was silent along the way. I couldn't see her in the backseat.  However, I felt that she would like to cry but couldn't for some reason. Maybe that was also my own feeling.  How very, very sad. Good thing that she could not look at me. If she could, I would be too shaken to drive safely.

15.

"Shuiwa, I have to tell me about your father's funeral. Please hear me out, for this is important for both of us." One day Luoyan came over to have dinner at our place without Chen Defu.

Like always Yuxuan acted very hospitable. She treated Luoyan as her own sister. We were all schoolmates after all.

"I will go to the grocery store and be back in about an hour," said Yuxuan as she must have sensed that what Luoyan said would be private between us. She quickly exited the apartment and went to shopping.

...

You probably don't know Papa left his phone number at the West Qi People's Hospital before we left for Xi'an. By the time we were leaving town, Papa regained his popularity and authority as an excellent surgeon. He took the advantage and asked a few doctors in town to call him if your family needed anything or should anything happen to your family.

We celebrated when we heard that you passed the examination and went to college. Papa cried. It shocked me, for he is such a calm person all the time. He was drunk that evening and kept repeating "Shuiwa really deserves this. I am so happy for him. This couldn't happen to a better person. I am just happy." As a country boy who passed the college entrance examination in the 1950s, he understood how hard it was for a kid with your background to get out of the area. Still was that enough a cause to cry for?

If any one, it should be me to cry. I was very exhilarated about the news, Shuiwa. No one was more excited than I was, I thought. I had the feeling that you were coming to knock on my door soon. I restricted my activity and stayed home a lot. I had dreams of you, Shuiwa, many times.

However, the news of your leaving for America came. We celebrated again. This time Mama even talked about how special you are. She remembered a lot about you. Papa was very impressed. However I became sick upon hearing that you had left the country. I was sick for quite a while. I wanted to cry but I had no tears. I had no reason to cry. I should be happy for you. I had no reason to blame you for not coming to see me. I couldn't blame anyone really. Oh, it was so frustrating. I started to go out a lot. I hated staying home. I went to go somewhere, all the time.

One day Papa rushed home packing. "Old Brother Qi passed away. I must go down to West Qi right the way to attend his funeral. I must. I need some cash, a lot of cash. I will buy him a great funeral." He mumbled on, with tears in his eyes. He was easily in tears whenever things in West Qi were mentioned to him. Maybe Papa was getting old.

Going down to West Qi was also one of the rare occasions Papa didn't discuss his decision with Mama. Mama didn't want to go anyway, for she barely remembered who Old Brother Qi was. Shuiwa's father. Oh, she said.

However, I wanted to go. I wanted to go badly. All of a sudden I recovered from my sickness. Energy started to flow all over my body; great energy sprung up from the ground and from the air. I felt that there would be a place for me to go and to cry. And cry I did. The villagers were very moved by my cry.

"Ah, my goodness, this girl really knows how to mourn the dead in the local way. No one cries as hard as she does. She reaches for my heart, little dear thing."

"I thought that only we poor peasants seize the opportunity to vent our misery. She has my eyes opened. This girl is something. Look at her, she is really crying. She makes my eyes moist, too."

"She had learned a lot from being here during those few years, I guess. Our way is contagious."

Strange it may sound, crying so hard, I still heard all the comments. I felt so connected with the local way this time. I felt free, sad and yet very relaxed. I enjoyed crying, I really did. Can you imagine? I never thought I would enjoy crying so much. Crying sometimes is better than laughing.

Papa ordered a music band. Five big men blew Suona non-stop for three days. Oh, the music, the most primitive music rushed out of the wood-wind pipes with such overwhelming passion. I never thought I would appreciate Suona this much. I never thought this earthy music could touch me that deeply. I was genuinely moved. No, wait, I was saturated with the sound, the passion, the energy, the sadness and the grand calm behind all the noises. In the free flow of crying, long winding and high-pitched musical notes, I suddenly discovered a Shangnan I never gave myself a chance to know the first time I was here. First the music opened me up. Then the mountains captured my eyes; the air my sense, the water my mind, the forest my body. I finally allowed myself to be assimilated to this land of great poverty and distinctive character. No, poverty didn't bother me as much as before. I no longer had any fear for poverty. I didn't have to pretend to be happy to cover up my anxiety. I felt the sadness, together with everyone around me. I felt the power of sadness, its reality and its producing force. Poverty was Shangnan and it folks. Today we expressed our sadness through the loud, the primitive pipes. Ah, music, Shuiwa, music came in the form of the mouth water of the musicians. I cried for their awesome genesis.

Sorry to be carried away. Really, you don't mind, do you?. Good. I am glad you also like to hear more about the music. Maybe some day we will get tapes of such music from Xi'an.

Anyway, there was also a huge three day lantern show on the crossroads. Lanterns with exquisite drawings were lightened up for three nights. Each series of lanterns were decorated with classic stories in exquisite drawings. Stories like the Romance of Three Kingdoms, Dream of the Red Chamber, King Monkey, Heroes of Liangshan...were all on splendid fanfare. Folks from high mountains and low land, down stream of the Crimson River, they came miles on foot. They came to feast and to enjoy and ultimately to pay their respect to your father. For three days there was an army of folks passing by the casket of red pine and many of them stayed on to watch the show and help with the proceedings. Some brought wild flowers, many brought fruit, all kinds of fruit. There was a mountain of fruit under the three candles and around the casket, to keep the air fresh. Papa and Erwa stood by the casket for three days and three nights, never went to sleep. I never saw Papa with so much energy. I wanted to stand there with them but a few elderly women took me away. "It's a man's job, girls are not allowed," mumbled they.

At least 2,000 people showed up at the burial. It was a cloudy day, a little windy and cold. Villagers asked Papa to say a few words, to eulogize your father. You know, to give a speech. To my surprise, Papa wasn't shy at all. He didn't hesitate to get up on a little platform. I still remember every word he said, for he didn't say many words to begin with.

"You folks saw me standing up like this before. Anyway, thanks for coming. I am sure Old Brother Qi appreciates the honor. I won't say much today because Old Brother Qi was a quiet man. But I want to take this opportunity to tell a story. No, Brother Qi and I were not related. But when I was locked up in the dark room during those crazy times, this man of few words cooked some of the most delicious dumplings I have ever had in my life. He risked his reputation and well-being and sent Shuiwa to climb the tree to send me meals. When the night was cold, his brotherly love kept me alive." Papa paused to take his glasses off and to wipe tears off his eyes. There weren't many dry eyes in the crowd. No smart crackers were heard.

"I must apologize to Old Brother Qi here. He begged me not to tell anyone about that episode. Yes, he feared political prosecution. When I went to thank him. He shut me up. He said that he did something for the family. Maybe he was no hero but he was a true brother. He makes me proud of West Qi."

There was a round of applause for Papa. Papa was serious as he grabbed a handful of earth and let it drop off between his fingers down to the coffin down. I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I burst out of my form and many others followed. Even the stubborn mule Erwa blew out a good sob. His cry was so awkward that many stopped crying and broke out a laughter. I even laughed. His face was all red.

"Erwa's face is as red as a chicken's ass," cracked a smart guy. And the funeral ended up in laughter.

That night the whole town was treated to a movie at the town square.

"This is by far the most elaborate funeral I have ever seen in my life. Good virtue accumulates drop by drop. That Old Qi was a good native son." An old man exclaimed.

But Shuiwa, how come you never told me that you climbed the tree to bring food to my father?

There was nothing to tell, Luoyan. My father asked me to carry some food for your father. It was all his idea. We did what we had to do when your father was in trouble. As my father said, it was a family thing. You knew the day we sent you up to Goose Landing Rock with our double wheel carrier we had taken all of you into our family. We were proud to have you in our family. I was specially proud of you, Luoyan, all those years. My father used to say that when someone is on the rise, it's better for us to stay away from that person as far as we can. We don't want to be suspected of boot-licking. Folks in West Qi fought for food but we didn't lick any body's boot for food. There was a huge difference. Being accused of boot-licking would be the worst embarrassment, a loss of dignity, for us lowly peasants. However, lending a hand to someone in trouble was in our blood, a survival instinct. Who knows that some day it will be our turn.

Luoyan, I am so grateful to your father and you. My father really got a great funeral. Greater than he could ever imagine. Greater than any man from Shangnan could afford. I am really happy for him.

Thank you for going there and cry for me. Did you not do it also for me? I have felt guilty for not being there at his funeral.

Anyway, tell me more about the decorations and music. Do they still decorate everything in bright red and fresh green? Ah, I see, white was the dominant color during funeral. You know this is funny. My ears really miss the music, the classic Chinese music, the earthy music. I am dying for some of the passionate music, deep sorrow. Yeah, next time we will definitely get some tapes of Suona music.

But, I don't miss the colors. Actually the colors of bright red and green make me sick. Our ancestors spent so much energy to preserve the prime colors and their purity. And our folks spend so much time to contrast the decoration with the surroundings, the dreadful yellow and gray that dominate our life. Red and green are overly used. At the beginning they may be lively and energetic but they have worn our eyes out. My eyes ache when I see them heavily used. Red signifies blood.

Now I have learned to appreciate other colors, the colors in between, shades of colors, combination of shades. I want my life has thousands of, instead of just four or five, colors.

But music is different. Music flows out of heart and they will never discolor till the end of universe. Music puts tears on my cheeks and I don't necessarily feel sad.

Why am I telling this to you? Because only you can understand me. Because I, too, miss that part of the land.

Maybe I wanted to changed the subject so that I didn't have to confront the inevitable question about the relationship between Luoyan and me.

16.

Luoyan came to visit too often. Even Yuxuan started to show signs of awareness. On the other end, Chen Defu seemed to get the worst. As always, he blamed me for everything, only this time he was absolutely right. I really wished that had got the guts to confront me directly. Maybe in a fury, I could spell out the heavy burden deep in my consciousness. The issue at hand was too tender to deal with it without breaking it totally.

Yuxuan wouldn't say anything. Silence had always been her way of dealing with pain and everything else. I couldn't hurt her and I ought to do something on her behalf. So it was only logical that when I graduated, I found a job in California and moved away quietly.

But half a year later, Luoyan came to California. She also found a job here. Not only that, she divorced Chen Defu her puppet husband. She would spend every weekend with us. Again Yuxuan got along with her very well. Yuxuan had problems with English. Luoyan had been a good help. Sometimes I felt like an outsider of this "family."

Sincere coming to America, Yuxuan had been absorbed in everyday living now. Her belief in Tao put her in great conflict with the values of this nation. She had to deal with a deeper depression in heart most of the time. All she had been talking was that she found ghosts, ugly ghosts here in America. Having a sunshine type like Luoyan around definitely helped Yuxuan's mental well-being. But, ...

Meanwhile, something seemed to break often in Luoyan's apartment and the landlord wasn't in any hurry to help mend the problems. I guess one gets into such situation when you can't afford a better apartment. That was how I became her plumber and everything else. But mostly Luoyan got me over to talk with me alone.

Do you know, Shuiwa, the trip to your father's funeral changed my life completely. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the land, the trees, the water, the rocks, those black gold nuggets. I felt the gravity down there which now anchors in my heart. All the years I spent in Goose Landing Rock and the area came back to me and masticated me. Yet, when I am totally lost, I feel love, great love. It is the genuine love between the people. Like there was love from your father to my father when he was in trouble. And my father put on a show of his feeling in the place he should have forgotten.

It is in such a context, I feel your personal love to me the strongest. I meant you loved me, so very much. I was such a fool. The hardship of country living wore me down. I resented poverty or anything Shangnan. I drifted away from you and other local friends. I suddenly developed this envy for city life and was drawn to primarily city kids in high school. I became selfish. I was so happy to see the end of our or my exile coming. And I couldn't wait to get back "home" and away from the poverty and hopelessness. I wished that Shangnan never existed.

When I finally got back to the city and spent my last years in a prestigious high school, I was further caught up with all the material comfort. I forgot West Qi and Goose Landing Rock. I did. I blocked everything out to enjoy. And it helped that I was immensely popular. Many boys came on me waggling their tales. When I went to college, my popularity grew. I was so proud of my looks. The experience in the countryside really aided my expression and demeanor, as I looked "mature and womanly" in the words of my former boyfriend. The poverty monkey was off my back and I felt like a queen. Viva City Life!

Slowly I noticed that Papa wasn't particularly fond of me any more. He often mentioned you and your father but I wasn't paying attention. "If Shuiwa liked us, he would have come to see us." I found reason for my eradication of the past. I wished you well but with good conscience, not heart and soul. Actually I wasn't to sure what I would do if you had come to knock on my door. I would enjoy the honor but be lost with steps to follow.

"He would never come uninvited," retorted Papa. But I only took that as stubbornness.

But Papa did make me think. Later we made the trip to attend your father's funeral. It was there I realized how to distinguish body and physical looks from heart and soul. It was there I realized that no one loved me the way you did. It was there I came to the realization of how hard you had to work your way out of the countryside. It was there my heartbeat danced to a different rhythm. It was there, I found my true self.

Of course, down there I found out you got married with Yuxuan. I was jealous but happy for you two at the same time. Yuxuan is so special, so very, very beautiful. Do you realize how lucky you are?

The sad reality for me was love can't be reclaimed. Nor could I declare my love for you. My heart was smashed into a thousand pieces. And it was all my fault.

Coming back from your father's funeral, I became a changed person. I broke up with my boyfriend. All his talks were so shallow, so materialistic and so self-important. His world was filled with nothing but himself. There were an army of them. Their world was so small, so narrow. I lost my patience with such mentality and flatly refused whoever had hots on me. I became a loner for a a while. Then I married Chen Defu because he was on his way to America. I thought I might be able to come to see you. I just wished to catch a glimpse of you in this life, Shuiwa. Can you understand me?

I know it was unfair to Chen Defu. But this was the only way I could come here. My mind and body were polarized by two forces: I could either go back to Shangnan or get away from China completely. I envied you, Shuiwa, because you left and now you only have to deal with dreams, not the sound and sights. I wanted to see part of your world.

Still I had no idea that you would the one who came to the airport. And now everything is messed up. Now I am in deeper depression. I want more but won't get any.

Often I regret of coming here. But I am so damn happy to see you, Shuiwa. Off went the sad mountains; here you become so handsome. What am I talking about? Shuiwa, I am crying your names in my dreams. "Hold me, Shuiwa," begged Luoyan as she looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"Luoyan, this may not be proper." I had long ridden the ominous feeling of disaster coming after too much beauty. I no longer felt that Luo Yan was the center of my universe. I liberated myself from that force. I became calm and collected. My desire was no longer tortured by winning or defeat, acceptance and refusal. I wished Luoyan happiness. But I wanted to make Yuxuan happy. Wishing and making are two totally different acts, and commitments.

"Just once." She curled up her lips and made this "I am about to cry" gesture. It looked pretty humorous and yet she was really serious.

I put my arms around her and she wouldn't let go. We kissed. My eyebrows twisted a bit. I remembered how I felt when someone else kissed her in the mouth. I wanted to get out of her arms but she wouldn't let me go. The struggle heated the bodies. I melted down. We kissed some more. We made love. Ah, delicious love. After so many years with Yuxuan, I never thought that love could be this intense and joyful. Luoyan's body seemed a lot warmer.

That Sunday afternoon, Luoyan wouldn't let me go. Until Yuxuan called. I ran home rather nervous. But Yuxuan's calm manner settled me down. She only asked about if I fixed the problem for Luoyan.

"This one is bigger than most others. Who knows what will come next?" mumbled I.

The next time I came to fix things for Luoyan. She asked me to marry her.

"What about Yuxuan?"

She did not answer the question. In a few minutes, she started to cry. I got to go early that day.

17.

That was the last time I saw Luoyan.

"Luoyan hasn't come by for about a month," concerned Yuxuan. "Is she all right. I start to have bad dreams about her."

"Why don't you give her a call?" I really wanted to lie low under the nose of this subject. I was too confused to face all the congestion of emotion and impossibility. Luoyan had been a major source of whirlwind in my mind. Perhaps she had contributed enough headache to my life.

"I did and there is no answer. Her number seems to be terminated as I just found out yesterday. You'd better go there and have a look."

"... OK." I looked at Yuxuan and she was not troubled at all by her suggestion. She had kept an even keel throughout the disturbance. Maybe her belief made her felt that there was a higher way taking care of business. Yuxuan had kept her calm for years.

Luoyan had moved. I was told by her neighbors. She left without telling us. We could only wish her well.

A few days later, a letter came from Xi'an. It was from Luoyan.

"Dear Shuisheng:

Now I have to apologize for leaving without saying good-bye, especially to Yuxuan. I knew it would be hard if I went up to see you and Yuxuan. Actually I acted without giving myself a chance to think about what I am doing. Until now, that is.

I feel obligated to tell you my whereabouts, even though I am not absolutely ready to reflect upon my action.

The problem or the pain is obvious. The sole purpose of my enduring so much embarrassment in the US visa office in order to go to to America was to see you, with apologies to Chen Defu. I had no idea that I saw you moments after I got off the plane. That was such a thrill. Maybe it was logic in a larger scale: if I want it hard enough, it will come. However, after I saw you, I wanted more. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. This is where the problem comes in. As you said, "what about Yuxuan?" She has been good to you. No, she has been tremendous to you. She has been with you through thick and thin. She deserves you the most. You should be proud of her, her beauty and her quality.

I have realized long ago that I offer no competition against Yuxuan. The reason I came to America was my willfulness. There has been so much pampering from so many people in my life, especially in the past ten years that I have developed this strong will. I never doubted that I could get whatever I wanted. Until I got to America, of course. There I gained a fresh perspective. There I realized that no matter how others try to please me, I only deserve what I can get. No, Shuisheng, this is not a casual remark. It was a painful realization. I felt hopeless and helpless. I felt lost and defeated. I felt that I wasn't worth as much I thought I was. It was a terrible feeling. I felt a steep cliff behind and I was about to fall off. I felt a cold breeze coming up from under my feet and searching up my spine. I was falling down, collapsing, paralyzing. I must do something. I wanted to talk to you, again and again. But at the end I am the one who must do something to save my trouble heart.

Before this radical move, I concocted another plan. You can unwrap the small paper bag in the envelope now. You see a shaving blade. That was my first silly thought. I can laugh at myself now but actually my eyes are too wet to break a healthy laughter at the moment. The plan was pretty straightforward. I would call you over to fix something in the apartment like I did many times before. When you came, the door would be ajar. You came in and found me sitting in the bath tub completely naked with my wrist slashed. The shower water would be running to wash off all the blood from my body. I would be smiling at you, very pale, I imagine. There would be a note telling you to kiss me and dress me up then destroy the note. I had my dress laid up in my bed room. By kissing and dressing me up, I declared you and I husband and wife for next life. I would be there first waiting for you, of course. I also had another note with signature telling police that I slashed my own wrist so that you would be free of legal trouble. Isn't this plan hilarious? No, I am joking. I almost carried that one out. I thought it was a neat little way to go.

I didn't do it, because I can't tolerate physical pain. I am weak, even though I spent years in Goose Landing Rock, definitely a tough place. Most of all, I couldn't explain my action to my self. By taking my own life, was I punishing you, the one whom I love deeply? Or was I protesting Yuxuan? She is innocent, completely innocent. She is such saint. You are so lucky, Shuisheng. In a way, I myself love her in a different way. You need to tell her this for me, please. The bottom line is that I was looking for ways to alleviate the pain in my heart. I have no right to inflict pain on others, especially you and Yuxuan. When the plan was half executed, I realized that taking my own life is not the way to do it. It's a cowardly act. It's so much against the philosophy of the country of Goose Landing Rock. I have no right to throw all the weight on the shoulders of others and found an easy way out for myself.

I should stop thinking too much about myself and start thinking how to make myself useful. I ought to learn to love life in the way folks in West Qi do.

Losing is not shameful; not willing to put up a fight is. Remember?

Anyway, just as I was thinking about something useful I can do to give this life saved from a blade some meaning, Swallow Tail came to my mind. Remember the little school up in the mountains they sent me up the first year we settled down in Goose Landing Rock? I told you once that I would like to go back there as a teacher. That would be a nice place for an exile, a romantic way to savor love impossible. I jumped at the thought. What a wonderful idea? I pat myself on the back. "I am going to do this." So I quickly gathered all my belongings and came back to Xi'an.

Plus, life in America was hard both mentally and materialistically. I felt so inadequate. I lost control of my life. I felt like a refugee, a hapless immigrant.

I am no with my parents. Papa supports my idea of going up to the mountains with both thumbs up. But Mama says I am crazy. "Some bandit would rape me unless you marry one of them," warns she. So, after a plane ride and a self-explanation to my parents, I end up debating myself whether I should pack up for the mountains o