Canciones errantes en los confines de la Tierra

Capítulo 4

I understand now, he is Zifan.

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [14]: The gray and sparse hair, the crisscrossing wrinkles on the forehead tell of the passing years, the slightly bowed waist, and the withered hands with bulging veins.

My eyes suddenly welled up with tears, a feeling I had never experienced before filling my heart. I turned my head to look out the window, trying not to look at him, and said, "Zifan." My voice was so hollow that it startled me.

The old man smiled, unable to hide his joy. "I knew you would come back, Jinjie. I've been waiting for you! Look, I haven't changed my address, because I was afraid you wouldn't be able to find me when you came; I haven't changed the locks, because I was afraid you wouldn't be able to get in; everything in this house hasn't changed. Living here feels like you're still by my side!"

The mist in the fairy's eyes grew thicker. "You were waiting for me? Why?"

The old man coughed with joy, and after catching his breath, he hurriedly said, "You said that if I could make your white lips red again, you would believe in my sincerity!"

Really? Zifan, you still remember? You still remember after all these years.

The fairy finally understood what tears were; the hot liquid was flowing down her cheeks.

I'm sorry, Zifan. I've long forgotten the promise I made back then. All I wanted was to create a knot for you that could never be untied. But little did I know that this knot would bind you for life.

The aged Zifan walked up shakily, reached out to touch me, then suddenly withdrew his hand, and said with a bitter smile, "Now you've finally come, that's good. I was always worried that I wouldn't live to see this day."

A pale face was faintly reflected in the glass window, with a delicate chin and long, thick eyelashes concealing eyes like pools of autumn water... Zifan was not at all surprised by my agelessness. Yes, he was the one who could hear the laughter in my heart.

I settled down in this old house. The elderly Zifan said he wanted to restore my white lips to their former glory, saying it was his lifelong wish.

When his aged voice uttered "a lifetime," the fairy could not resist.

I have not yet turned into a wisp of smoke or a fish. I still live in the room and sleep on the only bed. The old and frail Zifan is huddled on the sofa outside the hall, and every night there are bursts of painful coughs.

I asked to swap beds with Zifan, but he refused. His thin, age-spotted hand gently stroked my hair as he smiled and said, "This way, I can find some of the feeling I had when I was young." His eyes held a complex and lingering affection.

I found an exquisite glass box by the bedside. The aged Zifan stood quietly at the door of the room and said, "I always thought of you as glass. When you stand far away, you can hardly see it; when you stand close, you are easily cut. But I was always afraid that you would shatter."

There was a long strand of hair in the box.

It was this strand of hair that entangled Zifan's heart and bound him for life.

Every day, Zifan would bring me a bowl of medicine to drink. It was brownish-red, with a strong herbal smell and a pungent, fishy odor. I would hold my breath and drink it down. Zifan said this medicine could restore the color to my pale lips, and I didn't want to upset the aging Zifan.

The days passed quietly, and it seemed like time was moving very slowly during this period.

Often, I would wear light lipstick and accompany Zifan to the street. Passersby would point at us and say that this person's granddaughter was so filial. Zifan's cloudy eyes revealed utter desolation, but a faint smile appeared on his weathered face.

Zifan's coughing became more and more frequent at night, and his steps became increasingly unsteady.

Surprisingly, my pale lips gradually regained their rosy hue. First, a faint, almost imperceptible red appeared, slowly developing into a subtle, delicate crimson. And that day, as I sat before the mirror, admiring myself, my petal-like lips were a vibrant crimson. For so many years, so many years had I not seen this beautiful color fully present on my lips. I gently touched my lips. Zifan struggled into the room, his hands trembling as he handed me a steaming bowl of medicine. I turned to look at Zifan, smiling happily, "Zifan, my lips have regained their color!" Zifan smiled with relief, "Yes, I knew this method would work."

I took the medicine Zifan handed me. Its pungent, fishy smell was awful! But it could restore the color to my pale lips. I drank it down in one gulp and glanced back at the mirror. In the mirror, my profile was reflected: long, glossy black hair cascading to my waist, partially obscuring my face; my dark eyes shimmered, my face was almost translucent with snow-white skin, and my lips were a vibrant, luscious red. I saw that Zifan's pupils had stopped moving as he looked at me in the mirror; I could hear his heart pounding fiercely. I turned to Zifan and smiled slightly. The wrinkles on his face smoothed out, and he said, "Do you believe me now? Do you believe in my sincerity?"

I believe it, of course I believe it. How could I not believe someone who has used their entire life to prove their love for me? Even fairies have feelings. The medicine I just drank lingers in my heart, sweet and comforting. I believe that my smile at this moment is the truest, purest, and most enchanting it has been in a thousand years.

An old man named Zifan had been filled with boundless joy in his eyes, but suddenly collapsed to the ground. I rushed over to help him up, and suddenly noticed dark red blood seeping from his sleeve. I rolled up his sleeve, and on his old, withered arm—ah, what was that! Deep streaks of blood! I suddenly understood. All these days, the medicine I had been drinking was actually made entirely of Zifan's blood! Zifan had mixed his blood with Chinese herbs, brewing it into bowls for me to drink!

The sweet medicine I just drank suddenly transformed into a thousand needles, each one piercing my heart. Zifan, why did you do this?!

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [15]: On the ground, the old and frail Zifan had sparse, gray hair and a face full of wrinkles—I remembered a long, long time ago, that young man's face, that young face that was either happy or sad—the fairy's tears flowed freely. This was the second time in a thousand years that I had shed tears, and for the same person.

I helped Zifan up, letting him lean against me, my tears falling in streams onto his face. Years ago, he shed a single tear on the back of my hand; now I must repay him with so many tears. Is everything fate?

Zifan was too weak to speak, and his cloudy eyes were gradually dimming... Back then, he left a drop of blood on the back of my hand. Now, should I return the favor with several times the amount of blood?

I picked up the mirror, glanced at my unchanging face reflected in it, and then let go, causing the mirror to fall to the ground and shatter into many pieces. I picked up a shard of glass and slashed my wrist hard. Clear liquid flowed out, cool and devoid of temperature, transparent and colorless. Was this my blood? For the first time in a thousand years, I had seen my own blood, and perhaps, it would be the last.

I dripped this clear liquid into Zifan's mouth. His eyes were almost completely closed, and he lay motionless and still, without breathing.

Zifan, is your life about to end?

A clear droplet slowly flowed from my wrist. I suddenly felt a warmth in the liquid, and looking down, I saw it gradually turning a faint reddish hue. I knew it was Zifan's blood.

For thousands of years, with each stage of my life and each witness to the vicissitudes of human nature, each rebirth has chilled my blood and deepened my indifference towards the world. My lips, too, have gradually faded with this chill and indifference, until they are now completely colorless. But Zifan, with his blood, infused my body, and with his life, showed me the warmth of the world, warming my blood, warming my heart, and restoring the color to my pale lips.

Zifan, what I owe you, I could never repay even in a thousand millennia!

My blood dripped faster and faster into Zifan's mouth. His white hair slowly turned black, and the wrinkles on his face gradually smoothed out—my vision was already blurry. Through the blur, I saw the strands of hair in the glass box by the bedside disappear little by little, until they were gone. I knew that I too would vanish into this space, dissipating like dust, with no more rebirth or reincarnation. My whole body was weak, and I was about to forget time again, but this time there was no excruciating pain, only ease and joy. After forgetting time this time, there would be no more rebirth, and I had no regrets—when the blood finally stopped dripping from my wrist, I saw Zifan open his eyes, clear and full of vitality. His young face was radiant with a happy smile, and he winked at me affectionately.

I gave him one last smile, and in an instant, my body melted into the air—my long, glossy hair, bright eyes, lustrous lips, and pale face all vanished into thin air—I felt myself take flight—ah, for a thousand years, though I am a fairy, I have never flown. In the dreams of fairies, we always dream of flying, of one day flying like the fairies of legend… Today, I have finally taken flight… I smiled softly to myself… I am a fairy, a thousand-year-old fairy. For a thousand years, I have lived in this space, silently serving the people of this space, doing my best to bring them joy and happiness.

I am a fairy, without any magical powers. I cannot transform into a wisp of smoke and hide inside a large snail, nor can I turn into a fish and hide in a water tank. I only experience excruciating pain every cycle, so intense that I forget time, and then I continue my life, still with the same face, remembering everything that happened before.

My face in the mirror, the face of a young man, beaming with a happy smile. I blinked, and the face in the mirror blinked back. My lips were as red as blood.

A thousand years ago, when I began my first fairy life, I opened my eyes and saw a pale face, long, glossy hair, bright eyes, and luscious lips. A smile graced my face, but in an instant, it vanished into thin air. I wondered if I was dreaming. I sat up and found my face covered in tears, but my eyes were dry. Whose tears were these? So many tears. A sweet feeling welled up inside me; a clear liquid was flowing. I saw a glass box, an empty glass box. My heart skipped a beat, and I heard myself say, "I've always felt you were like glass; from a distance, you're almost invisible; up close, you're easily cut. Yet, I'm always afraid you'll shatter."

Is it shattered? You. Your scent lingers in the air, a faint fragrance. My fairy heart has been bound by a button, bound for a thousand years.

For thousands of years I have lived quietly, doing my best to give people all kinds of warmth and to warm many cold and indifferent hearts.

Do you know?

I know you know, don't you? Even though you're silent.

But I heard a soft laugh in your heart.

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [16]: Looking at these poignant and touching stories, let's cherish the people around us!

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [17]: Classic Story No. 3: The Spirit Spider

Author: Unknown

I am but an ordinary spider, an ugly and insignificant creature in this universe, yet I am also an extraordinary spider, for I spun my web under the eaves of the Leiyin Temple in the Western Paradise. Every day I hear the chanting of monks, the rhythmic sounds of their wooden fish drums, and the murmurs of Buddhist hymns; I receive the incense offerings from devout men and women throughout the land. Gradually, I too began to develop spirituality, and I was able to comprehend some profound Buddhist principles.

Finally, one day, Buddha sensed my existence and my progress. Buddha asked me, "Spider, what do you value most in the world?" I carefully replied, "I believe that nothing in the world is truly valuable. Only two things are truly valuable: one, that which has been lost; and two, that which cannot be obtained." I was deeply proud of my answer. But Buddha said, "Spider, you are wrong." Was I wrong? Was I really wrong? Buddha was about to go on a journey. Before he left, he instructed me to contemplate this carefully, as he would ask me again upon his return. I don't know how much time passed, perhaps a thousand years, when Buddha returned. Upon seeing me, Buddha asked, "A thousand years have passed. What have you thought about?" I remained silent. I didn't know what was wrong with my previous answer. Buddha smiled and then ignored me. I thought Buddha was angry with me. So, I continued to busy myself spinning silk and weaving webs, studying Buddhist principles in my spare time. Another thousand years passed in the blink of an eye.

One day, Guanyin Bodhisattva passed by me. Perhaps she was in a hurry, for a drop of dew fell from the willow branch in her hand and landed squarely on my spiderweb. The dew's destiny is to transform into rain, nourishing all things on earth; my web was merely a place for it to linger. It was so crystalline and dazzling; its existence only served to make me feel inferior. I ignored its presence, knowing it would eventually disappear from my life on its own. Another long millennium passed, and it remained, quietly accompanying me, without a sound or a trace.

Finally, one day, a long gust of wind swept past me and carried it away. After it left, I began to understand that before it came, all I had was loneliness, and now that it was gone, all that remained was endless solitude. There are many things in life that I may never possess in my lifetime, but if I don't have them, I won't feel any regret. What is regrettable is having some things and then losing them. I am increasingly unable to calm that feeling called loneliness. Although I keep myself very busy every day, loneliness is like poison, coursing through my body and causing me immense torment.

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [18]: Finally, the Buddha was alarmed. The Buddha said, "Spider, this is your destined calamity. Go, there is another way for you in the mortal world." I fell into a deep sleep, and I don't know how long it was. I heard a noisy sound in my ears. Someone was hitting me. I couldn't help but feel pain. I opened my mouth and had a voice and tears that I didn't have when I was a spider. I heard my loud and melodious crying. In this way, I became the little daughter of Grand Tutor Lin - Lin Zhu'er. Yes, it was the loneliness that I could not fight against that pushed me into this mortal world. Maybe I will find some things I want, or maybe I will be doomed. Who knows? I think the Buddha favors me. Otherwise, he would not let me still retain my memories as a spider. I want to find my sweet dew, the sweet dew that has silently protected me for a thousand years. I want him to stay by my side forever and kill all the loneliness and solitude in my heart. My father is the Grand Tutor of the court. He is related to the late emperor by marriage. That is to say, my mother and the Empress Dowager are sisters. My elder brother and sister are also from wealthy and noble families; our family produced two princes-in-law and three princesses. Buddha has taken care of me, allowing me to be born into such a prestigious family and to receive the love of everyone in this household.

I turned sixteen, and I was so eager to find the Dew, afraid I would miss it without realizing it, just like last time. Fate finally brought me and the Dew together. On the Empress Dowager's fiftieth birthday, I was granted permission to attend the royal banquet with my mother. This banquet was much grander than I had imagined. Because it was the Empress Dowager's birthday, not only members of the royal family but also the families of all high-ranking officials were present. The Emperor even invited the newly appointed top scholar to compose poems. I think my appearance amazed everyone present; many eyes were fixed on me, which terrified me. Yes, I thought I was beautiful, but this beauty was displayed only for the sake of the Dew.

My eyes searched through the crowd; I wanted to find Ganlu. My family rules were strict, and I rarely left the house, so I had to seize this opportunity. My eyes were finally drawn to a pair of bright eyes. Yes, that's him! I could hardly breathe. When that bright light that had kept me restless in Leiyin Temple appeared before me once more, it was him—the newly appointed top scholar—Ganlu, without even changing his name. He was constantly busy, writing poems for the Empress Dowager. Many women surrounded him, daughters of high-ranking officials and nobles, their eyes filled with longing for him. I wasn't jealous. I was happy to let my lover be the object of everyone's pursuit. I was confident that I was the only wife destined for him in this life. I was so outstanding. I sat there quietly watching him, and he noticed me too. His eyes told me that my presence had deeply moved him. When our eyes met, he smiled at me, then buried himself in writing poetry again. The eunuch presented his poems one by one to the Emperor and Empress Dowager, who then critiqued them before having palace maids sing them to the tunes. I heard a song: "Why does the fairy maiden leave the Jade Terrace, pausing every three steps? Only for the Queen Mother's birthday celebration on earth, where she dances gracefully between heaven and earth." I knew it must be written for me. Lost in my own beautiful dream, I was suddenly led to the Empress Dowager by her eunuch, Eunuch Chai. I had never seen the Empress Dowager since I was old enough to understand. She seemed quite fond of me, gently stroking my hand with affection, her eyes constantly smiling. She also introduced me to her youngest son, Prince Xiang. We were born on the same day, month, and year. Xiang kept stealing glances at me; he was so shy and inarticulate, despite being a prince favored by everyone in the palace. I don't remember when the banquet ended. I only know I drank a lot of wine and was a little drunk. I was so happy because I had found him—Ganlu. He was my happiness and life in this life. My sixteen years of life only had meaning after meeting him.

I told my parents about my feelings for Ganlu without any concealment. As I wished, they didn't object. My parents love me, and they can't bear to see me suffer even the slightest grievance. They will always agree to whatever I want to do, as long as it's not too absurd.

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [19]: Monkeys are idiots

---Mint Rain

Reply [20]: The second time I met Ganlu was at the White Horse Temple on the outskirts of the capital. My mother accompanied me there to pray for a good marriage. As soon as we entered the temple, the abbot told us that Gan Zhuangyuan was accompanying his mother to offer incense, and then led us to meet him. My mother chatted with Gan's mother, and they sent me and him away.

I knew Mother must want to tell Madam Gan about me and him. A wave of joy, mixed with a few inexplicable excitement and shyness, welled up inside me. He accompanied me as we walked around the temple, followed by a large group of servants. He was so close, yet I felt almost suffocated. He was so polite, always addressing me as "Miss," and I was a little annoyed with him. I said, "Call me Spider! Spider as in spider. Can I call you Brother Dew?" He asked, "Isn't that inappropriate?" I smiled gently. "Didn't you always call me that before?" He was confused. "You used to call me that in your heart. Back then, I was a spider weaving a web under the eaves of Leiyin Temple, and you were the dew that accidentally dripped onto the willow branch of Guanyin Bodhisattva on your web. You accompanied me for a thousand years. Then you left with a gust of wind, and I began to be lonely. Loneliness led me into the mortal world, interrupting my cultivation, which also allowed me to meet you again." I just wanted him to regain his memories as Dew, so that I could hear him tell me, in person, what he felt during those thousand years of companionship. His behavior disappointed me. He was laughing, like an older brother listening to his little sister's babbling in her sleep. I heard a "thud," the sound of my heart breaking. Had he forgotten me? Or was Ganlu simply heartless? I prayed to the gods in my heart. "Your ideas are too romantic. With such talent, your poetry must be quite good." I began to despair. Where had I gone wrong? I entered the mortal world to find my Ganlu, and the person before me was clearly Ganlu, yet he had lost his memory of her. He seemed to be deliberately teasing me, mocking, "You said you used to be a spider, but you're so beautiful, you don't look like one at all! You're a thousand times more beautiful than it." These were meant as a compliment, but they hurt me deeply. I began to accept my fate. I was so foolish. Ganlu's destiny was to benefit all living beings; my web was not his true home. I slowly left him, saying with a desperate sorrow, "It weaves threads of love by day and a net of love by night, eventually becoming deeply entangled and unable to extricate itself. Yet you men find it ugly and laugh at it, thinking it is nothing more than a bit infatuated." Dew! Dew! You are ultimately heartless, I think.

I finally reached the end of the corridor. I drew a very auspicious fortune stick, a cruel irony. The abbot himself interpreted the stick, saying I would have a happy marriage within three months, and that the happiness would come in the spring of the following year. My mother was still happy, but I already realized that there would be no happiness.

Three months later, officials arrived from the palace. My entire family set up an incense table and knelt to receive the imperial edict. The lengthy, elegant, and obscure wording conveyed only one message: the Empress Dowager had betrothed me to her youngest son, Prince Xiang, for the grand wedding the following spring. Then I would be the Princess Consort of Xiang. This was like a thunderbolt. If my disappointment with Ganlu was a sharp blade piercing my heart, the Empress Dowager's bestowal of marriage was like sprinkling arsenic on my wound. How could I bear it? Perhaps only one outcome awaited me—death from the poison, succumbing to the wound. I was dazed and confused, supported by my maid. I was drenched in cold sweat and swayed precariously.

I faintly heard my father's voice, trying to persuade my father-in-law to stay for dinner. My father-in-law smiled and refused, "Grand Tutor, you're too kind. I have to go to Scholar Gan to deliver the imperial decree! By the way, you don't know, do you? Prince Luo's youngest daughter, Miss Changfeng, has long been in love with the Scholar, and she asked the Empress Dowager to make the decision. The Empress Dowager said this matter had to be discussed with the Scholar himself, but unexpectedly, the Scholar agreed to the Empress Dowager's request as soon as he saw Miss Changfeng. So, today I'm going to deliver the decree for their marriage next month." I couldn't bear it any longer. Before my father-in-law had gone far, I collapsed. I only vaguely heard everyone scrambling and shouting, a chaotic mess. The scene was just like when I was born. I thought I was about to leave, about to return to Leiyin Temple. Ganlu had ultimately gone with Changfeng; I could no longer find a reason to live in this world. Go! Stop clinging on; what is not mine will never be mine! I told myself I was dreaming. In the dream, Buddha said to me, "Silly spider, why do you still hold a grudge against the dew? The dew has been with you for a thousand years because it waits for the long wind. Only by being with the long wind can it roam the universe and nourish all living beings; only then does its existence have meaning. But for you, it is heartless." I pleaded with Buddha, "I know I was wrong. I don't want to stay here anymore. Take me back! I still want to be a spider under the eaves." Buddha thought for a moment and said, "If you insist on coming back, I won't force you, but your mortal ties are not yet severed. Very well, I'll give you three days. I will come to ferry you back in three days." The watchtower drum struck three times, and I woke up. To my surprise, Xiang was smiling at me. His shy smile couldn't hide the exhaustion on his face. He only said softly, "I'm sorry, I should have told you about the marriage sooner." His smile broke my heart. I silently apologized to him in my heart; I could not become his queen. When the maids saw I was awake, they hurriedly said, "Miss, you scared Prince Xiang and all of us terribly! Do you know that Prince Xiang stayed by your side for three whole days and nights without eating or drinking? Miss, please get well soon!" They even started to cry. A pang of reluctance struck me; leaving all these people would surely break their hearts. And what about my parents, who gave me life? How heartbroken they would be to bury their child! But I no longer had the courage to live on in this world. My life was for the sweet dew; now that there was no sweet dew, I might as well give up my life.

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [21]: Xiang seemed to see through my thoughts and said, "Forget Ganlu, okay? Let me give you happiness in this life instead of him! Do you know? Zhu'er! I have been waiting for you for three thousand years. I recognized you at the Empress Dowager's birthday banquet. You are so intelligent and steady, just like your peerless demeanor under the eaves of Leiyin Corridor back then. I am the little grass under the Leiyin Bodhi tree who has been silently waiting for you for three thousand years. I look up to you every day, wanting you to see my existence, but you are so high above, and have never noticed me." I am but a tiny speck, yet I will not give up. One day you will know that there is such a small me silently waiting for you. But in your heart, there has only ever been Ganlu. Finally, Ganlu was taken away by the long wind, but you still couldn't let go. So Buddha sent you to the mortal world. I begged Buddha to let me go with you, and Buddha agreed. Buddha said we were destined, so I believed. Finally, Ganlu left your life. Finally, I persuaded the Empress Dowager to let my brother issue the decree, but you still couldn't let go of Ganlu. ..." He couldn't go on. I began to feel shocked. Three thousand years of waiting, I had never given him a single promise, yet he had never uttered a single complaint. "Zhu'er, please don't betray my heart. Wouldn't it be better to stay and be with me day and night?" He held my hand, and my heart trembled. I had thought my heart was dead.

Three days passed quickly. I should have followed Buddha's instructions and resolutely separated my soul from my body. But instead, I clearly heard a mournful cry. "Zhu'er, you still don't want to be with me? That's alright, just please don't leave. I can give up marrying you, as long as you live well, are happy, and let me see you every day. Please don't go." For some reason, I hesitated, as if moved by something. He held my body and wept bitterly. Even a heart of stone would shed tears. My parents, while crying, were still trying to comfort him. Then, as if he had thought of something, he drew his sword and murmured to himself, "Alright! Zhu'er, since you insist on returning to Leiyin, I will follow you. No matter where your soul goes, whether it's to the ends of the earth or the bottom of the underworld, Xiang, I will accompany you." With that, he raised his sword to commit suicide. The Buddha said, "Zhu'er! Xiang has waited for you for three thousand years. You can't let him go, can you? Go back! While you're still not too far away. In your current state, even if I guide you back to Leiyin Temple, it will ultimately be in vain." My primordial spirit re-entered my body, and I merely moved my lips slightly: "Xiang, no, I'm back. I'm willing to be your queen, to be your queen for all eternity, to repay your three thousand years of waiting, isn't that good?" Suddenly, with a clang, the sword in his hand fell to the ground. He held me tightly, and we embraced and wept, along with my parents. Yes, if I had known that my departure would cause so many people who loved me unbearable pain, I wouldn't have been so willful in wanting to leave.

I finally understand that what we've lost and what we can't obtain are not truly valuable; what we hold tightly in our hands is the most precious. I once sought the sweet dew but received nothing, but now I understand that the sweet dew's value lies only in the eyes of Princess Changfeng. He accompanied me for a thousand years, and that's enough. Now, what I should cherish is Xiang's love for me!

Note: The people who love me and the people I love—an eternal theme: how do we choose in this world? I believe the most painful thing in the world is: he is right beside me, yet I don't know he loves me. But how many loves can be relived? Cherish the present! Cherish every bit of love others give you! Understand that what you hold in your hands is true happiness.

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [22]: Classic Story No. 3: If there is a present life, why seek the next? Author: Unknown Ye Qiqi was just 10 years old when her intelligence and beauty were already known throughout Jiangnan. From the age of 15, her doorstep was worn down by matchmakers. If you saw many talented men from Jiangnan on the streets and alleys one day, it must have been the day Ye Qiqi went out.

Ye Qiqi is like the lotus flowers in the green lake of Jiangnan in the morning, covered with dew, delicate and shy, with a clear beauty.

Ye Qiqi was 18 years old when she married Feng; she was like a flower bud about to bloom.

There's no need to describe all the good things about Feng, because he married Ye Qiqi, the most beautiful, talented, and clever woman in Jiangnan.

After marrying Feng, Ye Qiqi finally blossomed into a fully-blooming flower, and they were the most loving couple of their time. "Let us be united, we've made a pact to last a hundred years. If either of us dies at 97, I'll wait for you for three years on the Bridge of Helplessness." Feng wrote these words and drew Ye Qiqi's portrait. Ye Qiqi often accompanied her paintings with folk tunes from Jiangnan, adding Feng's image next to her own portrait.

"Beautiful women often have tragic fates." Before she reached a hundred years old, or even 97, Ye Qiqi fell ill and never recovered. Feng traveled the country seeking medical help for her, but still could not save her.

On the day Ye Qiqi passed away, her face was pale. She called out, "Feng." Feng, with tears in his eyes, replied, "Let's be together, let's make a promise to be together for a hundred years." Ye Qiqi continued, "If either of us dies at 97, we'll wait for each other for three years on the Bridge of Helplessness. Feng, I'll wait for you." Feng cried out, "Qiqi!" Ye Qiqi passed away with a smile, her face instantly becoming incredibly beautiful.

At that time, remarriage was fashionable, but Feng refused to accept any woman. He quickly became thin, and within three years, he fell seriously ill and refused all treatment. On his deathbed, he told his family, "Qiqi has probably waited too long for me. Don't be sad for me; I am extremely happy." Feng passed away with an expression of profound happiness.

That's a story that's been sung in Jiangnan for a long time.

A chilling wind blows by the Bridge of Helplessness. The beautiful woman, Ye Qiqi, waits alone. She fears no danger, only to see him.

On the day the wind came, Ye Qiqi's thin, paper-like body suddenly became fuller. On the Bridge of Helplessness, what fell that day was the affectionate rain of Jiangnan, the happy tears of the lotus flowers on the lake.

On the day Feng He and Ye Qiqi were reincarnated, they made a promise: "We will never drink the Meng Po soup!" They would be lovers for all eternity.

But they never imagined that their arduous wait on the Bridge of Helplessness would completely deplete Ye Qiqi's spiritual energy from her previous life. They still believed that in their next life they would be a perfect couple.

They came into the world in 1981 AD. Ye Qiqi was born on a winter day in the Central Plains, and Feng was born on an autumn day in the Northeast.

On the day Ye Qiqi was born, she stared wide-eyed, searching everywhere, and finally found a large group of strangers. She knew she had arrived in this life. "I'm finally going to be with Feng again," she couldn't help but laugh.

Everyone around the delivery bed was startled. She heard an old woman with gray hair say, "A girl who looks like an ugly monster, and who is laughing instead of crying, is she some kind of evil spirit?" Ye Qiqi remembered that newborn babies are supposed to cry, and she began to open her mouth and let out a dry wail without tears. But then she heard the old woman say, "She'll be even uglier if she cries."

The peerless beauty from Jiangnan in her previous life has arrived in this life, but she has not received any welcome.

---Fish and shrimp

Reply [23]: Ye Qiqi in this life has a strange name: Sang Shang. Everyone thinks this name is strange, and she doesn't understand it either. At first, she didn't feel anything about this name, but when she was in elementary school, some naughty boys called her: "Sang Shang, Sang Shang, Japanese devil. Waaah~" Everyone laughed. Sang Shang returned home sadly and asked her mother who named her: "Why am I called Sang Shang?" Her mother replied: "It was just a random name, it doesn't have any meaning but it's unique. If an ordinary girl wants to stand out, she can only be clever with her name."

Sang Shang looked at her face in the mirror for the first time, heartbroken. Gone was the stunning beauty she remembered; she was just ordinary. Her eyes were large, but lacked their former sparkle; her features were plain, her demeanor unremarkable. It was at that moment that she truly began to see herself as Sang Shang, not Ye Qiqi. "She is an extraordinary lotus flower of Jiangnan, I am just a common blade of grass in the Central Plains." But, wind, you can recognize me, can't you?

Sang Shang was of very ordinary talent. She studied very hard, but her grades were not outstanding. Initially, she couldn't adapt and often wanted to destroy everything in her life. But she often thought of the wind and the happiness of her past life during her loneliest moments. "I will try my best to be the best I can be; I want to be like the lush leaves of the wind." She was a diligent and well-behaved girl.

Her life seemed to consist of nothing but reading, reading, and more reading. She sometimes wanted to learn other skills, but after a few days, her whole family protested, deeming her talent utterly lacking. Faced with so many setbacks, Sang Shang learned to protect herself with a smile. She began to think of nothing at all; only the wind was a tiny, colorful element in her monotonous dreams.

There was nothing to boast about in her upbringing, nor anything absurd. She grew up quietly and unremarkably, remaining just a faint shadow to others.

After graduating from high school, her grades were neither good nor bad, so she applied to a medical school that was neither particularly good nor bad. Sang Shang liked the school surrounded by trees and liked the feeling of wearing a white coat. She remained an inconspicuous girl there until near graduation when her diligence earned her solid medical knowledge.