Geisteswissenschaftliche Fakultät

Kapitel 22

I climbed the snow-covered mountain path to the summit, and to my surprise, there was already someone in the pavilion. The Welcoming Pine Pavilion is rarely visited; even when it is, it's usually a hunter from the mountains. I've lived here for so long, and I know most of them, but I didn't recognize this person.

The figure with his back to me was short and thin, wearing a thin blue cloth shirt that made me feel cold just looking at him. Hearing my footsteps, he turned around, gave me a friendly smile, and then I froze on the spot.

The man was a young man in his early twenties. Although he was a man, he looked remarkably like A-Qiao, so much so that I almost blurted out that name. Perhaps that smile was enough of a greeting, and he turned away, ignoring me completely. After thinking for a while, I decided to continue with my plan to enjoy the snow and drink wine.

This is just someone who looks like A-Qiao, nothing special. I happily found my usual spot, set out the food and drinks I'd brought. The weather was great, the scenery was great, and my mood was probably great too. I knew that even if the real A-Qiao appeared in front of me now, I wouldn't feel a thing.

two,

A strange person.

It was windy at night, and I lay in bed listening to the howling wind, my mind wandering.

No one smiles at a stranger without saying a word. I drank and recited poetry beside him, but he paid no heed, simply admiring the scenery, his gaze fixed on the distance, lost in thought. As dusk fell, the mountain temperature plummeted, and even in my fur coat, I shivered with cold, but he seemed oblivious. He remained there until I left, his standing figure resembling a silent statue.

What a strange person, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

three,

It was snowing again when I woke up this morning, so I went up the mountain without telling Lao Zhao. The swirling snowflakes were cold against my face, but they brought back memories of playing in the snow as a child. Do people become less happy as they get older, or do they grow older because of unhappiness? I don't know.

When I arrived at Yingsong Pavilion, I saw that person again. He was in the same spot as yesterday, dressed in the same clothes. Hearing my footsteps, he turned around, smiled at me, and then turned back to look at the scenery.

What a weirdo!

Thinking about it, I walked back to my spot. It's really funny; this pavilion has somehow been silently divided up, with half of it belonging to me and half to him, each keeping to their own interests.

But that's alright. Anyway, this person isn't noisy, so even if the space is half the size, I still have my peace and quiet, but my loneliness is halved.

Four,

This person arrives before me every day, but leaves after me. He smiles when we meet, spends the whole day sightseeing, never says a word, and never misses a day. Occasionally, if I don't go, I wonder if he did. It turns out that without realizing it, I've become accustomed to his presence—even though we still don't know each other.

Sometimes I think that when a habit disappears, it must be very painful.

Ah Qiao, that used to be my habit...

five,

I really wanted to say something to him, introduce myself or talk about something else, but I just couldn't bring myself to speak.

There seemed to be an unseen force within the Yingsong Pavilion; all I could do was smile and remain silent.

However, it's all good; a gentleman's friendship should be as pure and simple as water.

But I don't know if he thinks the same way?

six,

Some things are held together by a faint tether, invisible to people, yet easily broken.

If I had known the ending, I would never have asked him that question, or even said a word to him.

However, it's too late to undo it.

You look a lot like someone I know. I don't know if you know her.

As I spoke, his turban fell open, and his black, waterfall-like hair danced in the wind like a black snowfall.

“Songtao, you shouldn’t have asked me,” he said sadly.

"You are...Ah Qiao?" I couldn't believe it. "Are you really Ah Qiao?"

"I am Songtao. I've come back to find you. I gave up everything and traded it with that person for the chance to stay by your side. If you don't ask, if you don't tell, perhaps I can stay with you until spring..."

"Why, Qiao?" I suddenly found it funny. "You betrayed me first, so why are you saying this now, as if I owe you something?"

"Songtao, you don't understand."

"I don't understand. If you could abandon me and marry someone else for the sake of social status and wealth, why are you back now?"

“Songtao…” Aqiao looked at me sadly, “So you never knew my heart!”

"I know, I'm the one who understands your heart better than anyone else in this world."

“Songtao…” A Qiao sighed, “Just consider it my fault. This is for the best. You won’t have to be sad for me anymore. From now on, there will be no more A Qiao. You can live happily, find a good wife, and have many children. And I will no longer have to be sad for you. Soon I will not remember anything. No, I should say I will soon be unable to think of anything.”

"What are you talking about, Qiao? I don't understand what you're saying." I suddenly felt a little flustered; Qiao's words seemed to have a deeper meaning.

“You don’t need to understand, Songtao, because we will never see each other again.” As A Qiao spoke, her slender figure suddenly lurched backward, falling into the deep valley of Sihe Mountain.

I screamed and reached out to grab her, but I couldn't grab anything.

Why can't we catch it?

"Because I'm already dead, Songtao."

Suddenly, I remembered that night when A-Qiao told me she was going to get married, and the next morning, her body was floating in the moat.

My father, a high-ranking official, was reprimanding his subordinates in his study.

"Didn't you tell me to just teach her a lesson? Why did it turn into someone dying?"

"But, but that old man wouldn't listen, and Sixth Brother wanted to teach him a lesson, but who would have thought that woman would rush over? We just lost control in an instant..."

It turns out that what truly saddened me, what drove me to flee the capital and come to Sihe Mountain, was A Qiao's death. But why did I forget it?

"You traded your sad memories for your frozen heart, while she traded her soul for the short time she spent by your side. It seems that she was the one who loved more deeply."

Someone was speaking in my ear, but I didn't want to look. I knew who it was—the shopkeeper in that strange market. When I was in unbearable pain, he took away my memories and gave me a heart unmoved by anything. A frozen heart, incapable of feeling joy or sorrow. Even though I stood in the Yingsong Pavilion every day, gazing at the beautiful scenery, my heart remained desolate, until A-Qiao reappeared.

“So, it seems like I’m the one who made the money.” That was another person’s voice.

"Okay, I admit you have better taste."

Listening to their conversation, I suddenly had an idea. I thought I should have done it from the very beginning. Between those two adjacent shops, between the twin shop owners, I should have chosen one of them instead of this one to do business with.

"I want to do business again."

"What?" The two of them stopped their discussion at the same time and asked me together.

"I would give my life to be with her for all eternity."

seven,

"These two pine trees are so strange. They're both so big, yet they're standing so close together. Aren't they worried about not getting enough nutrients?"

"Haha, maybe they're a loving couple like you and me~"

"Ugh, who said they'd be your girlfriend?!"

The young lovers left laughing and joking, leaving behind an empty ancient pavilion and a pair of ancient pine trees.

"Songtao, we won't be separated again, right?"

"No, look, we're hugging so tightly..."

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Master Painter

Name: Lu Baibi Gender: Male Age: Appearance: 23 or 24

Occupation: Painter; Address: Stall No. 6, Bomeiji Central District

Wei Changliao kept running, desperately, ignoring his fatigue, running without stopping!

He couldn't remember how long he had been running, probably about two hours. When he came out of "there," the sun was still setting in the west, but now, the entire world was shrouded in silent darkness. The stars, rarely seen in the city night sky, twinkled against the azure backdrop, reminding him of time, and also of space.

This isn't a city, this isn't a place you're familiar with, this is... where is this?

As Wei Changliao watched the dazzling lights getting closer and closer, he became distracted and tripped over a clod of earth, falling heavily to the ground. However, after only two seconds, he quickly got up, or rather, jumped up, and then looked curiously at the market that had suddenly appeared on the open ground below.

Few people could run such a long distance and still have the stamina to jump and leap like Wei Changliao. Few could endure the same mistake once, twice, or three times and still let their curiosity lead them astray. But Wei Changliao was just that kind of person—curious, never stopping, and always a step behind his actions. So, even though he had just suffered such a terrible loss two hours earlier, he could still fearlessly, even gleefully, wander into the desolate market—a place resembling the house of a fox spirit that suddenly appeared in "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio"—and stroll around with great enthusiasm.

"Young man, come and see these freshly harvested pearls, they're all top-quality..."

"Hey young man, how about buying a Zabakudo (a type of spirit offering) to bring you good luck and protection?"

"Hey, hey, that's not for sale! Don't touch it!"

Actually, if you look closely, this market isn't just strange; it's downright bizarre. Leaving aside the shopkeepers dressed in a motley collection of styles, blending ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, the sheer variety and abundance of exotic goods alone should leave most people bewildered, even frightened. But Wei Changliao is the kind of person who's completely oblivious to these things, for example…

"Young man, this griffin is very fierce, don't touch it! Do you hear me!"

"Young man, how did you manage to open the cage I had locked up with the Hydra?"

Actually, after that terrifying and bizarre encounter, Wei Changliao's curiosity should have subsided somewhat. Unfortunately, in this market, his barely suppressed curiosity was reawakened and surged to unprecedented heights. He wandered around aimlessly, completely absorbed in his fun. It wasn't until an old woman, who seemed to be selling tea eggs, stared at him menacingly with three gleaming white eyes that Wei Changliao slowly shuddered, a chill rising from the soles of his feet and coursing through his veins. Only now did he remember why he had inexplicably wandered into this market, remember those murky, crazed eyes, remember that other old woman…

Speaking of Wei Changliao's recent experience, it might be excellent material for supernatural novelists and horror enthusiasts, but for Wei Changliao himself, it is definitely a terrifying experience he would never want to recall.

The story begins four months ago. Wei Changliao is twenty-six years old, a college graduate, and currently works in a technical role at an IT company. If you disregard his unusual curiosity, Wei Changliao is an extremely ordinary person. Average looks, average work ability, average personality, he has a girlfriend, and earns a below-average salary. Such a person could easily make a living in any moderately commercialized city; he's nothing special. However, Wei Changliao is also truly different from others; he has no past!

No one knew Wei Changliao's past, nor had anyone seen his parents. What high school he attended, what he looked like as a child, how many relatives he had—even Xiao Li, who had known Wei Changliao the longest, didn't know any of this. Those around him simply assumed Wei Changliao had some quirk in these matters, that he didn't want others to know about him, but no one ever considered that even Wei Changliao himself was unaware of these things.

Wei Changliao, in a sense, is an orphan, but he is not a typical orphan. For example, orphans who end up on the streets, in orphanages, or are fortunate enough to be adopted, though they lack parents, still have their own past, whether that past is unbearable, bitter, or once happy. They at least know of their parents' existence, know that they were ruthlessly abandoned or helplessly discarded. However, Wei Changliao knows nothing. Wei Changliao's lack of a past is not an act; even he himself is unaware of his own past.

"This is a very strange disease!" In the past, when Wei Changliao suddenly realized that there was a gap in his brain, he had seen psychiatrists and psychologists. After examining Wei Changliao repeatedly with all sorts of strange, frightening, or incomprehensible instruments and methods, those doctors often came to the same conclusion.

According to the diagnosis, Wei Changliao's brain and nerves were perfectly fine. He had no organic or pathological diseases that could affect his memory or thinking, and he didn't even have the slightest bit of the trendy ailments that are common in modern people, such as mild depression and anxiety. Yet, despite all this, Wei Changliao couldn't remember anything from before his junior year of college.

Isn't it strange? A person, living to their twenties, has a past that's nothing but a void. The years of their growth, the traces they left behind—elementary school, middle school, high school, freshman year of college, sophomore year—they can't remember any of it, and there's no one around them who could have witnessed it. Xiao Li, Wei Changliao's college classmate and now colleague, only remembers Wei Changliao from the first semester of their junior year.

"A transfer student, a strange transfer student." That's how Xiao Li summarized his first impression of Wei Changliao.

Wei Changliao's neighbor said, "This young man is a nice guy, but a bit strange. He suddenly moved in a few years ago without any prior warning. When we came home from get off work, hey, the empty house next door had been magically filled with people!"

Wei Changliao, of course, also possessed various documents identifying him. His ID card, issued during his junior year of college, listed the address as the apartment he moved into. According to the household registration office, Wei Changliao's application for a new ID card stated that it was being replaced due to the loss of his old one. His household registration booklet clearly only listed his name. Even more incomprehensible was the thick file that everyone—every citizen of the People's Republic of China, or a criminal whose citizenship has been revoked—must possess. This file records every aspect of a person's life from childhood to adulthood, good and bad, a step-by-step record of their actions. Yet, Wei Changliao only had a few thin pages, starting from his junior year of college. The people at the file management office privately believed that these documents were likely lost during the relocation process. Since Wei Changliao himself had no right to access them and was unaware of such a matter, he naturally wouldn't complain. This "private opinion" has remained confidential to this day.

Fortunately, Wei Changliao was born optimistic, cheerful, and easygoing. Even without a past or family, he was able to live a vibrant and fulfilling life, stumbling through graduation and finding a job, which he's been doing for three years now without ever considering changing jobs. However, this balance was shattered four months ago!

Four months ago, Wei Changliao was strolling around the streets after work when he stumbled upon a small alley. The alley, its construction date unknown, looked quite old, with square bricks, blue walls, and a network of interconnected passages resembling spider tentacles. As mentioned earlier, Wei Changliao was an extremely curious man, naturally susceptible to the unknown and steeped in history. So, even knowing his girlfriend Sherry was waiting for him outside the Picasso, and even with his watch repeatedly reminding him of the urgency, he couldn't resist exploring the alley. Then, at the corner of the seventh alley (the stone steps of which had blue spots) and the thirteenth alley (the one with scattered wildflowers), Wei Changliao encountered the first person he saw in this maze-like network of alleys: a middle-aged woman in her fifties. And this woman recognized him.

"Hey, isn't this Liao from the Wei family?"

The young Liao from the Wei family?

"No, that's not right, it can't be. I clearly heard that Xiao Liao from the Wei family died a long time ago."

Dead?

"It seems like it was during the second semester of my son Qiu Da's sophomore year..." The middle-aged woman muttered to herself as she walked away, lost in thought.

"Wait a minute." Suddenly realizing that his past might be exposed, Wei Changliao grabbed the middle-aged woman's arm without thinking.

"What are you going to do?" The middle-aged woman looked at Wei Changliao in a panic, her eyes filled with fear and a little curiosity.

"Uh, sorry." Wei Changliao realized his lapse in composure and quickly let go. "I wanted to ask you, ma'am, were you saying I looked like someone?"

"I'm the youngest, and he calls me 'auntie'!" The middle-aged woman was clearly extremely dissatisfied with Wei Changliao's words and actions. She complained loudly while rubbing her arm. "Look at young people these days, what kind of behavior is this? They're bullying an old person."