decide

Author: Liuli

Link: https://zhuanlan.zhihu.com/p/435915529

Source: Zhihu

Copyright belongs to the author. For commercial reprinting, please contact the author for authorization. For non-commercial reprinting, please indicate the source.

Tonight the moon is particularly bright, the water of the Nameless Lake clear to the bottom. A gentle breeze blows the willow branches hanging in the water and the full moon reflected in the water. A boy in white was sitting in a tree, his back against the trunk, looking down at the shadow of the moon in the lake, his face sad. The young man sighed, broke a willow branch, desperately stirring the lake, as if this can be the full moon and sadness together broken. Suddenly, the boy heard something and turned his head to the shore. The sadness on his face was suddenly washed away by something and there was no trace of it. A woman older than the boy was walking towards the lake. The woman was dressed all in black, with a long sword tied around her waist, and her long, silky hair, which hung down in the moonlight, looked very beautiful. The woman looked around for a few times, and then went straight to the willow where the boy was, turned over the road, and sat beside the boy. 'I knew you were here! The woman smiled at the boy and then said. The teenager opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but in the end said nothing. The woman saw the young boy did not speak, he said to himself: "When I was a child to play hide-and-seek you like to climb to this tree, the thick willow branches just can cover your body, no one can find you. You can't hide it now that you're big." The woman put an emphasis on "Can't hide," as if it meant something. The young man understood what the woman meant and finally said, "No... Not going?" Now it was the woman's turn to be silent. She lifted her head, raised her longsword, and turned it into the light. The longsword borrowed the moonlight and showed a soft shine like jade. The young woman does not speak, some anxious: "Go to the words you may die!" After a long time, the woman said, "If I don't go, many people will die." The boy was silent. The woman continued, "If I hadn't gone, you wouldn't have eaten the crystal cakes at the street Dim Snack shop, the sour and sweet ice-sugar gourds, and the hot and sweet baked sweet potatoes." "That's not as important as you! I'll never eat dim sum again. Don't go, will you?" The boy's voice was already in tears. The woman took the young man's willow branch, with a point of water, like fishing willow branch down into the lake. "Aunt Chen selling dim sum, Uncle Wang selling sweet gourd, Uncle Niu selling sweet potato, they are good people, good people do not deserve to die." The boy was silent again, holding the branches of the hands slightly trembling, for a long time, out of a barely audible "um." The word seemed to have exhausted all his strength, so that all his words of retention could not be said. The woman shoved the willow back into the boy's hands, smiled, then stood up, drew her sword out of its sheath and waved it gently against the glittering water, sparking a splash across the distant lake. "My sword blows and breaks. My martial arts skills can break water with one stroke. It will be fine." The woman said to him, and then repeated in a faint voice, "It will be all right." "Well, I'm going. It's been cold lately. You should remember to put on some clothes. Remember to eat more vegetables during the week. The woman bent down, pulled the hair from the boy's forehead, and kissed his forehead with her red lips. Then the woman jumped lightly, as light as a swallow. Tiptoe lightly, in the water with a circle of ripples. The lake was not frozen, but she was walking on the lake, so she ran towards the other side of the lake. Young looking at the woman's far back, want to finally say something to the woman, but the voice is blocked in the throat how also can not come out. His nose suddenly turned sour and he was on the verge of crying, but thinking that this was unlucky, he quickly wiped his eyes with his hand and stopped them. In this short period of time, the figure of the woman has disappeared, the lake also returned to calm, as if a woman in black had never come, and the young man to talk about the past, and then kiss his forehead with red lips. The moon was still bright, and the boy stared across the lake to see the figure again, but he knew he could not see her even if the moon was as bright as day. Young continue to stare at the lake shore, eyes gradually blurred, he does not want to think, do not want to go to sadness, do not want to think of the shadow in black. He drifted off to sleep in the gentle breeze of the lake shore. The boy had a dream. In the dream, he was over thirty years old, still dressed in white, still sitting on the willow tree, still at night, the moonlight still shining through the nameless lake. In his hand he carried a long sword, as clear as water. It was just like the scene ten years ago, except there was no one around him. He suddenly felt that the world is very big and cold, and the people who can stay with him to keep warm are already gone. The teenager woke up huddled up like a squirrel escaping the winter. He stood up, leaning on the tree trunk, and looked out into the lake, where the moonlight was still bright and the water was still sparkling. He did not know how long he had been asleep. It was as if he had been asleep for ten years, or as if it had been only a quarter of an hour. Is this a dream or a projection of the future? He looked into his palm. The willow branch the woman had put into his hand was still there. The boy took a deep breath. He knew what he wanted to do. The young man rose and lifted up his coat. He had a dagger at his waist. He drew his sword out of its sheath, its body as clear as the lake in front of it, and it was sharp enough to cut off fate. "I'll die sooner or later." "It's good to have company." Then the young woman in black to learn to leap, toe on the lake a little, splashing scattered water. Young so toward the other side of the lake, toward the heart of the figure ran. The moonlight on the Nameless lake is still cold, and the willows are rustling by the wind, like a lament, also like a song. —————————— About this time last year, I accidentally turned over the work, originally wanted to correct, but after thinking about it, I could not write. Although the world is vast, this essay is no longer available (suddenly ethereal record up), each period of their own mood, missed it is difficult to find again, just like the east never look back to the river. May the beginning always be there.