From then on, Qiu Ping fell in love with driving around every alley in Shenzhen, hoping that another miracle could happen and allow them to meet again in the typhoon.
But the typhoon season has passed, then it comes again, then it passes again. How many more typhoons can one experience in a lifetime, especially during the typhoon season of one's prime?
Searching aimlessly, waiting blindly, unable to hear the call, unable to see any hope.
All we can do is persevere.
But how long can we keep going?
The Ending Gold
And so, two years passed, and it was typhoon season again.
In a film shop in a hotel in Hainan, a beautiful yet haggard woman in her thirties greets a steady stream of customers with a serene smile. Her face is somewhat swollen, a result of mild alcohol poisoning from a period of heavy drinking. During that time when her life was out of control, she lay in the ruins of cigarettes and alcohol, unable to stand, until one day a doctor told her that her sudden heart palpitations were caused by excessive alcohol consumption. Then one day, she decided to live a mundane life, facing all the mediocrity and inaction, drifting along with the current. On this island, on this edge of the world.
Often unemployed, I rely on writing to make a living, and am often impoverished. Occasionally, I receive a not-so-small sum of money, but who cares about the future? Once I have it, I spend it, and then keep writing. When I feel lonely, I go out and find a job, but I don't need to stay for too long, because I get tired of it quickly. Therefore, I can never find a job that I'm truly satisfied with.
Living in this city gives one a sense of vicissitude. This place, where scholars and poets were exiled in ancient times, still retains the desolation and sorrow of that time. Moreover, that emotion reaches the depths of Hu Ni's heart, making one feel even more the desolation of "the ends of the earth" and "the corners of the sea".
A newly arrived group of guests were resting on the sofas in the lobby, waiting for the tour leader to collect their room keys.
"Mr. Meng, your room is 1206, a room with a sea view." The secretary handed the room key to a tall, well-built man dressed in casual trousers and a T-shirt.
"Thank you!" The man took the room key, packed his simple luggage, and headed towards the elevator.
Some customers complained that the film here was too expensive, but Hu Ni explained calmly that it was a fixed price.
Life seems to continue, but each day is a monotonous repetition, as if life has stagnated, time crawling by so slowly that one almost forgets to breathe. Seabirds fly across the distant sea, and Hu Ni watches them silently, momentarily lost in thought. If one has already lost enough strength, one can only avoid the past and passively resist the future. Even so, occasionally some restless elements will leap out, stirring up eternal memories within life.
A dreamless night, a long time since she'd dreamt. A piercing ring pulled Hu Ni from her slumber; her dreams were shrouded in darkness, and so was her vision. She turned on the lamp; beside her lay a messy stack of manuscripts, the result of her desires. The ashtray beside her was filled with the ashes of cheap cigarettes burned the night before. Qiu Ping had once said that yesterday was merely the ashes left after time had burned, floating in yesterday's faded sunlight. Qiu Ping didn't understand; some ashes, like nightmares, drifted into today's sunlight, refusing to dissipate.
After washing up, I put on a white cotton maxi dress and beach shoes. It was still dark.
I want to go to the beach to watch the sunrise today, to witness that breathtaking spectacle of hope being born. It's been so long since I've seen a sunrise.
The sea breeze was still cool. Hu Ni walked slowly on the soft seashore. What lay at the end of the sea? Perhaps there really was nothing there.
A few tourists were strolling along the beach, all there to catch the sunrise and collect seashells.
The sky gradually turned red, a magnificent and spectacular red, a poignant and vivid red, an incomparable red. A crimson sun rose above the sea, only a tiny sliver showing. Its rays shone on the sea, and amidst the shimmering red waves, occasional ripples of cold blue appeared. Water and fire thus strangely merged, as if the cold seawater itself was burning passionately...
On the distant beach, a man dressed in muslin shorts, a white T-shirt, and beach shoes was strolling slowly along the shore. His department was having a meeting there. This was the hotel where Hu Ni worked in Yalong Bay, where they stayed last night.
There was a brightly colored conch shell on the beach, washed ashore by the high tide last night. He bent down, picked it up, examined it closely, and then looked at the slowly brightening sky, sighing with a sense of loss.
Then, he saw a woman slowly walking towards him in the distance. The sea breeze was blowing through her long hair and dress. He had stroked her hair countless times, and he still remembered how soft and cool it was. The sea breeze made her shiver. She hugged her arms tightly and slowly approached.
His heart began to pound wildly. It was that face etched into his mind—a melancholy, silent face, a neurotic, pale complexion, and a deep desolation and sorrow hidden in its eyes. The woman he had waited for in vain for two years…
She stopped. She saw him. She struggled between a hazy dream and reality. Perhaps, she had always been waiting, waiting at the ends of the earth…
The two gazed at each other again, silently, as if the past and the future were seamlessly connected. (The End)
First draft, August 15, 2002
Second draft, September 6, 2002
Third draft, September 21, 2002