I named this story Don’t Look Back, after the poet Bai Juyi’s poem “Farewell at Nanpu”: “One glance, and my heart breaks. Go well, and don’t look back.” It means that what’s past is past, so don’t keep turning back again and again, hurting your heart over and over. Despite the title, the people in this book are always being pushed forward by the world around them, even as they keep looking back, again and again.
This story is a deep regret.
The protagonists have something they must do, something more important than love and too important to fail. So they keep their feelings hidden and restrained. But affection cannot be concealed. Even if you keep your mouth shut, it will escape through your eyes. The two of them cautiously test the waters, draw close, then pull away. Their relationship is full of ambiguity, stirred by the slightest ripples. One is too kind to know how to refuse; the other too stubborn to know when to yield. So after their first parting, they never meet again. Through a cruel twist of fate, the world keeps pushing them along until they reach a point from which there is no turning back.
The girl in the story meets the boy while doing something she absolutely cannot fail at. She knows she can’t work hard at it and be with him at the same time. She mustn’t fall for him, but she likes him so much. He feels the same way, and they share an ambiguous closeness. But fate conspires against them, and they miss their chance. No one she meets afterward ever compares to him. Everyone she falls for has some part of him in them. She dreams of him and often takes out her diary to remember him. He is both the white moonlight in her heart and the cinnabar mole she can’t forget. But she never sees him again.
Theme: I once shared a piece of instrumental music called “Night, Fireflies, and You” with the person I liked. The top comment was written by the composer: “You and fireflies have two things in common. In my eyes, you both shine, and I haven’t seen either of you in years.” Those words are practically the story I want to tell.
