For a time, public opinion was in an uproar. "China's first female writer to win the Nobel Prize for Literature is suspected to be Lily" became the headline.
I grabbed the exclusive interview with Xie Ming as soon as possible
: "Sir, tell me your story."
The octogenarian old man was wearing a brocade cheongsam, with silver hair and red lips, and still looked slim and graceful. "The stories are all in the book."
"Sir, that's not your story. I want to hear your story."
After a long silence in the face of my aggressiveness, Xie Ming said, "How do you know that's not my story?"
She was trapped in memories:
"I wish I could buy a ticket to 1964. I would tell myself at that time, don't go to Hong Kong, never go.
But I know that the wheel of fate will drive me there, and she and I will eventually meet.
In the face of the determined fate, I have no choice but to do anything. "
Mr.'S story was long and boring, and I yawned.
"What happened next?"
"Later, I was disfigured and blind, but I still wanted to find her."
"I inquired about her all the way from Hong Kong to Shanghai."
"Then, I heard that she was engaged, and then, I completely lost the news about her."
"Sir, do you regret it?"
I don't know why I ask this
I couldn't understand the emotion in my husband's eyes, but I felt her great sadness.
"No regrets, I brought her favorite wild lily."
Only then did I notice the flowers in her hand
The petals are wilted and the stems and leaves are gradually turning yellow.
"Sir, but the lily she loved has withered."
Purpose: Praise love