I was jealous of her for ten years.
She is the talented female writer Fang Ruge, and I am the loser, Lin Xu, who rejected the manuscript, self-published, and got a score of 6.2 On Douban.
Over the past ten years, I have taken screenshots of her schedule, interviews, and Weibo, and stored them in an encrypted folder called "F".
I copied her desk, lamp, and writing habits. She even reproduced the "I want to go back" that she deleted.
I thought I hated her.
Until she forced me in front of me and said, "That anonymous comment was written by you."
Until we started writing a book together under the same roof.
Until her breath was close enough that I could count her eyelashes.
We are rivals, kindred spirits, and mirrors of each other.
She controls everything and I'm jealous of everything.
But our bodies make peace sooner than we do.
Her hand would stay on the back of my neck, and my fingertips would wipe away the ink stains on the edge of the manuscript paper for her.
Later, in the sand of Crescent Moon Spring and the sea water of Hawaii, we said many things with our bodies that we refused to say with our mouths.
After she lost her right hand, I became her left hand.
I don't write for her, I write with her.
The book we co-authored is called "Jealous Slow Rong".
The story is about jealousy and arrogance, but outside the story is how two women used their incomplete bodies to achieve a complete love.
Body and mind, wisdom and compassion, writing and sex, in the end are basically the same thing.
We rediscover ourselves in each other.
Concept: Two female writers saw each other in jealousy and arrogance, and finally completed themselves in incompleteness and reconstruction.