He wants to burn this house, burn himself, and burn this old dream of cannibalism. Fu Ci, however, carried him on her back and entered the reality of cannibalism. "Master," his voice was as soft as a dream, "it's spring outside, I'll take you to see it."
World-weary, indifferent, alienated and accepting × humble, sensitive and less aggressive
"My love, you are spring"
Demining: I don't recognize what I wrote. I don't have the problem of me being depressed about writing in the middle of the night. When can I fix it?
Qiu Shang · The old dream of drawing the ground as a prison
"My soul died yesterday, and this body is just a delayed obituary."
[Table: Character Sketch]
· Age: 27 years old.
· Identity: The last gravekeeper of the family after the declining scholarly family.
·Appearance: His skin color is a cold white that has not seen the sun for a long time, his body is as skinny as a crane, and he is always wrapped in a dark gown made of expensive material but showing its old color. The fingers are long and slender, and when holding the cigarette, the nails show a faint green color. The eyes are empty and cannot reflect the fireworks of the world.
· Smell: old books, bitter medicine, and the vague cold fragrance of opium, mixed into a strange and addictive decadence.
Inside: Anatomy of the Soul
· Thinking: Pessimistic wise man. He saw that the current of the times was unstoppable and that his own class and cultural background were destined to be washed away. His indifference stems from a complete and desperate sobriety.
· Language: The words are concise, with aristocratic elegance and cruelty.
· "Sympathy is for beggars, I don't need it."
· "Alive? Just a slow, observed death."
· (To the courteous lady) "Miss, my heart is like a tomb, and there is no room for living people."
[Details and Metaphors]
· Hobby: Playing Western operas on an old gramophone late at night, with the volume turned up to the maximum, as if to cover up the emptiness in my heart with the gorgeous tragic sound.
· Signature action: unconsciously stroking an ancestral jade pendant, which is his only fragile connection with the past world.
· His "decay": not pathology, but heart disease. It is the disillusionment of idealism and the crisis of existentialism, and the powerlessness of "watching oneself sink soberly". He lives in a self-constructed tragic aesthetic and derives weird pleasure from it.
Fu Ci · Silent Earth Fire
"My world has never had light until I saw you. So burning myself became the only direction."
[Table: Character Sketch]
· Age: 22 years old.
· Identity: A young boy bought from the market by Qiu Shang's father, Qiu Shang's exclusive servant.
·Appearance: Delicate and clean, but too thin due to long-term malnutrition. He always wears blue cloth clothes that have been washed white, with his head lowered, like a weightless shadow.
· Smell: Clean soapy scent, mixed with a touch of herbal bitterness.
Inside: Anatomy of the Soul
· Thinking: His logic is as simple as cruel: "My life is bought by the Qiu family, and my people belong to the young master." He bases his self-worth entirely on "being needed by Qiu Shang." His humbleness stems from profound self-denial and almost faith-like devotion.
· Language: Extremely stingy with words, every sentence requires courage.
· "Master, it's cold, please put on some clothes."
· (When being stared at by Qiu Shang) "I... I'm going out right now."
· (The only time he broke the rules was when Qiu Shang coughed up blood and growled in a tearful voice) "You can't die!"
[Details and Metaphors]
· Hobby: Secretly reading Qiu Shang's discarded drafts, and clumsily piecing together the young master's spiritual world from those fragmented poems and foreign language notes.
· Signature action: Always follow Qiu Shang half a step slower than Qiu Shang, his footsteps are as light as a cat, and his breathing is deliberately slowed down, for fear of disturbing the person in front of him.
· His "sensitivity": He has an animal-like intuition about everything about Qiu Shang. Can accurately judge his emotions and needs from a sigh or a frown. This sensitivity is both his armor and his weakness.
Intertwined destinies: love sprouting from decaying soil
Their relationship is a silent sacrifice and acquiescent approach.
1. [Cultivation of dependence]
Qiu Shang initially regarded Fu Ci as a piece of quiet furniture. But gradually, he found that he was used to:
· No matter how late he comes home, the light in the study stays on for him.
· When you wake up, there is always a glass of water at the right temperature on your bedside table.
· When I wake up from a nightmare, the shadow outside the door is projected on the ground by the moonlight and is quietly guarded.
He began to acquiesce to this care, which was a silent dependence, like oxygen, which existed unconsciously and suffocated when it was missing.
1. [Cracks in the ice]
One snowy night, Qiu Shang's old illness relapsed and he coughed heartbreakingly. Fu Ci knelt beside the bed and stroked his back as usual, but a hot tear fell unexpectedly on the back of Qiu Shang's hand.
Qiu Shang was stunned. His cold hand took the initiative to cover the back of Fu Ci's trembling hand for the first time.
"Why are you crying?" His voice was hoarse, but strangely without anger, "I'm not dead yet."
At that moment, in Fu Ci's world, the glacier thawed and everything revived.
2. [The Great Betrayal: The Burning of Bai Yujing] (Climax)
As Peking was about to fall, Qiu Shang was determined to burn with his ancestral home, completing his ultimate martyrdom in the aesthetic sense. He dismissed everyone except Fu Ci.
"Why don't you leave?"
Fu Ci did not answer his question for the first time, but asked instead: "Master, are you thirsty?"
The moment Qiu Shang struck the match, Fu Ci hugged him from behind with all his strength, and then used a clean knife to knock out the god he admired and had imprisoned for his whole life.
He carried the light Qiu Shang on his back, just like carrying all his faith, and opened the burning door called "the past".
"They all say you are Huixu B, but I think you are a crane in the sky." He murmured to himself in the light of the sky. He didn't know if he was talking to the unconscious Qiu Shang or to himself.
"Crane, you don't deserve to die in Zhuyoue."
Epilogue: Human fireworks
They settled in a damp town in the south. Qiu Shang's body completely collapsed and he lay in a wicker chair wrapped in an old blanket all day long. Fu Ci used his meager income from copying books and writing Spring Festival couplets to support the two of them.
One afternoon, the sun was so warm it made people feel itchy. Qiu Shang squinted his eyes and watched Fu Ci washing clothes in the yard that were soiled by his cough last night. There was a sound of water rushing, and there were fine beads of sweat on Fu Ci's side face under the light. A shallow scar was the mark left by the fire.
Qiu Shang looked at it for a long time, and then spoke very softly.
"Fu Ci."
Fu Ci turned around, her eyes still filled with habitual questioning and a hint of unnoticeable fear.
Qiu Shang looked at him for a long time, and then a real, relaxed, almost transparent smile slowly appeared on his pale face.
"Spring is here."
Fu Ci froze on the spot, and the mallet in his hand fell into the basin, causing a splash of water. Then, tears burst out without warning.
He has been waiting for this spring for too long. It has been so long that I have almost forgotten that all my humility, sensitivity and perseverance are just to become his own, belated spring.
Intention: Write an article melancholy in the middle of the night, and then go further and further on this road.