Volume 3 - CH 1

The sky chills, the rain falls, the girl walks

It’s clear, my love, has been lost

The leaves on the lake have fallen asleep

Put this down, can’t put down, tears will fall

What you see, you’re blind to lose *

….

The train steadily chugged forward. Outside the window, the scenery melted and changed along with the song’s rhythm.

*This song is from Jay Chou’s (one of the most popular modern singers ever in China, comparable to Adele or Beyonce) “Saying Goodbye”. Here is the link. youtube.com/watch?v=KKsioz-zaZY

The railroad snaked around mountains, valleys, and terraced fields on low bluffs planted with summer crops. Small river streams peppered the bottom of the mountains; eventually, they’ll flow into large lakes and rivers, heading east to become one with the bottomless ocean.

I don’t know why, but I always liked to open my phone and listen to some sad music while on the train.

In the infinite world of music, eighty percent are about romance. In that category, another eighty percent is about breakups.

Just as the poets of the old have said, if their lives weren’t full of hardship and anguish, they wouldn’t be able to write such complex and abstract poems. Music wasn’t any different; besides staying warm and eating food, the other basic human need was the desire of the opposite sex. If the road of romance was so smooth, there wouldn’t be enough time to make music. All the writers and singers would be busy doing the “nudge nudge wink wink”.

….

Maybe it was because I’ve heard too many sad songs that I’ll think of these ludicrous thoughts. While taking a nap on the train’s bunk bed, I dreamed of a ridiculous story between me and a stranger girl.

Jiang Muqing, I thought of a name.

A very beautiful girl. She had delicate features, a head of soft black hair, and a balanced body.

A gentle rise on her chest, a supple waist, and a slender waist.

Please forgive my shameless description. When a man looks at a woman, their eyes are invariably lustful.

No matter who looks at her, they’ll always feel that she’s a very comfortable type.

But her mind needed a little work.

She will be a Yandere,

I thought of a personality.

Maybe I’ve been watching too much yandere tragedy anime lately, that I would have such a logical and sound dream. It was almost as if the girl actually existed.

To be obsessively loved by such a beautiful girl, was probably the dream of every boy.

It does sound like becoming a “winner of life”, having a girlfriend fall out of the sky without doing any work. To have her cling onto you, to make you spoil her, you might think that life would be fantastic.

But have you thought of the times when she’ll charge at you with a cleaver raised.

Her empty pupils dilate, staring dead into yours. Like a parasite in your stomach, knowing all that goes in your heart. Her possessive desire sucks all the oxygen from the air, choking you.

“Besides me, you don’t need anybody else.” She seems to say, sending a chill through your bones.

….

In my belief, if yandere truly exists, it definitely isn’t love. Rather, it’s a disease.

Thankfully, it was just a dream. However, it’s not a bad idea if I were to use that to write a novel. Those stupid otaku readers would probably enjoy this kind of girl.

Just like that, an idea was created.

I brooded a little more, and opened the notes app on my phone. I started to write some rough drafts and take a few notes.

Every concept and feeling was to be recorded, and even so for the easily-forgettable dream.

I must never have the readers feel like it was a dream, I must make it seem as real as possible. Since, the dream felt extremely realistic in the first place.

….

“All the young people in this generation are the same. If it’s not phones, it’s computers. How useless you all are.”

The old auntie on the opposite side saw me tapping my phone furiously with an enlightened expression on my face, and muttered in disgust.

Indeed, I’ve been on my phone for quite a while ever since getting off from my bunk.

“Auntie, now that’s just wrong. I’m using my phone for something important, see?”

I replied in annoyance.

“What important things can you even do with a phone? Finding a girlfriend? You’re not that old, you should focus on your studies?”

“I’m not doing anything like that!” My face grew red.”

“Then what are you doing?”

The old woman pursed her lips, glaring at me with suspicious eyes.

“I’m writing articles, and I can publish them, too!”

“Wow, you can write articles at such a young age? Amazing, and they can be published?”

The auntie stared in amazement.

There are many types of publications. Official paper publications and internet issuances were still two very different things. But the auntie didn’t know that, she thought that I meant the type done by colleges and universities.

And I was merely a shrimp on an entertainment novel site.

“Amazing, you’re already a writer at such a young age.” The old woman gave me a thumbs up.

“Ahh, I’m getting embarrassed…”

“Then, what types of articles do you write?”

“Light novels.”

“What are light novels?”

“A form of writing originating from Japan.” I explained.

“Young people nowadays are so fixated on the outside world, is their moon any rounder than ours? What good could come out of what the foreign devils make?” Immediately, she returned to her stubborn self.

“Ehh….”

…

In the last week of summer, I went back to my grandparents’ house to stay. When grandpas and grandmas miss their grandsons, they must return.

To satisfy the elderly’s desires is one of our country’s most prestigious traditions. Caring for elders is a responsibility of the young.

What the elderly crave most is the company of their descendants, so I don’t have to worry about anything except having fun. I felt the most relieved in this week than any other time in summer break.

I’ll go take a look at that old white mansion, too. I hope it hasn’t been demolished yet.

….

Saying goodbye

But never seeing each other again

I can’t just lose your smile like this

Your lipstick remains at the table

But I can’t find you anymore