Chapter One: The Bright University (2/2)

The two weeks of military training finally came to an end amid sweat and blazing sun.

The Misty Rain Poetry Club held its first gathering, with new and old members all arriving at the activity room, familiar faces mingling with new ones, laughing and chatting merrily. Mu Ningxiang, dressed in a new skirt, arrived at the activity room, and after curiously scanning every face, quickly spotted her senior schoolmate Zheng Huiwen in the crowd, then happily went up to greet her.

"Ah," Zheng Huiwen said, looking her over delightedly, "Ningxiang, isn't it? We haven't seen each other for two weeks, and you've gotten thinner."

"Tell me about it. Those days of military training wore me out, and I lost a few pounds along the way."

Zheng Huiwen laughed out loud, and then the two of them sat down together to chat.

Mu Ningxiang asked, "Senior, which poet do you like?"

"Me?" Zheng Huiwen replied. "I don't focus so much on the poet as on the poem's words themselves. The poetry and prose I love span from the pre-Qin era all the way to the Republican period. Like Su Shi's line, 'Life is but an inn on a journey, and I too am a traveler passing through'; or from the *Zengguang Xianwen*, 'Those who only know the rivers and lakes are all people of ill fate'; and Cao Xueqin's commentary on the 'Song of the Good and the Finished' is simply full of golden lines from start to finish—'What use is it to speak of rouge still fresh, powder still fragrant, when the temples have already turned to frost? Yesterday, at the foot of the yellow earth mound, white bones were sent off; tonight, beneath the red lantern's canopy, mandarin ducks lie entwined.'"

Mu Ningxiang picked up with the next line: "'Gold fills the chest, silver fills the chest, yet in the blink of an eye all men curse the beggar.' I can recite this one in full too."

"Such is the impermanence of worldly affairs. No need to grow smug with success, nor to belittle oneself unduly. The swallows that once nested before the halls of the Wang and Xie families now fly into the homes of common folk. Such things happen in every dynasty, no matter the age."

Zheng Huiwen wore a pair of silver-framed glasses perched on her high nose bridge, the round lenses so clear and clean that not a speck of dust could be seen. Through the lenses, one could clearly see a pair of eyes bright as clear ripples—both the inner and outer corners rather pointed, the tails tilted slightly upward, resembling fox eyes. Such an eye shape always seemed both classical and cool, both bewitching and dignified. The fox is a creature of wisdom, and perhaps those with such eyes are just as sharp and clever.

"Everyone, quiet down please! Settle down!" Tang Haoyang's voice rang out, and at once the whole activity room fell silent. Standing at the podium, he said, "I'm very glad that all of you juniors from the Class of 2020 have become new members of our Misty Rain Poetry Club. On behalf of our predecessors from the Classes of 2018 and 2019, I sincerely thank you all. I imagine you're all still unfamiliar with each other, so, everyone, please stand up and introduce yourself—just say your name, major and class, hometown, and your interest in poetry. Let's start with the older members first, beginning with me. Ahem," he said, pushing up the thick black square-framed glasses on his nose. "My name is Tang Haoyang—Hao as in 'vast and boundless like the great expanse,' Yang as in 'ocean.' My hometown is Lucheng District, Wenzhou. I'm a Class of 2019 student majoring in Chinese Language and Literature, so I have a special passion for poetry. Earlier this year, while I was still a freshman, together with a few friends and Ren Jie from the Club Management Department, I founded this club. I hope everyone will come often, and feel free to share any topic with me."

Then, one by one, the members stood up to introduce themselves. Zheng Huiwen, going before Mu Ningxiang, introduced herself with poise: "Hello everyone, my name is Zheng Huiwen—Hui as in 'virtuous and wise,' Wen with the 'rain' radical. I'm a Class of 2019 law student, and my home is in Xiaoshan, Hangzhou. Poetry is my after-class hobby—to me, it's an elegant and concise literary form, well worth loving. I also have my own interpretations of many poetic works, and I welcome everyone to discuss them with me. Thank you."

Then Mu Ningxiang introduced herself as well: "Hello everyone, my name is Mu Ningxiang, a Class of 2020 student majoring in English, and my hometown is Longquan, Lishui. I have a great interest in poetry—my favorite poet is Bai Juyi, the Recluse of Fragrant Mountain. Ever since I learned 'Grass on the Ancient Plain: A Farewell' in second grade, he's been the literary hero of my heart. Thank you, everyone."

The last to introduce herself was a girl whose voice was especially soft and gentle, drawing the eyes of the entire club toward her. She stood in a corner, about one meter sixty-five in height, slender in build, her thick black hair hanging quietly down her back. She wore a pale green blouse paired with a white floral-print long skirt, her skin fair, her features delicate, her brows and eyes as if painted—her brows shaped like distant hills, or perhaps like willow leaves, and a pair of large, glistening dark eyes, deep as a spring well, shimmering with soft ripples of light. Her lashes were fine, dense, and long; her nose bridge neither too high nor too low; her lips a soft pink. "A bearing rich yet distant, virtuous and true; a texture fine, with flesh and bone in perfect harmony"—such a line might well describe her. She said, "Hello, fellow students and seniors. My name is Ren Jingting, a Class of 2020 student majoring in Art Design. My hometown... my hometown is here in Zhuji, actually, but I grew up elsewhere and only recently came back. The reason I love poetry is—first of all, the language of poetry is beautiful. Many poems conceal the truest realities of the world and contain rich philosophy, and the same truths can run through both ancient and modern times. Even things from thousands of years ago remain relevant today. Let me share two lines I recently learned: 'The glow of the firefly in the grass is not truly fire; the dew rounded on the lotus leaf is not truly a pearl.' It means that although the firefly in the grass shines, it is not fire, and although the dewdrop on the lotus leaf is round, it is not a pearl. The implication is that people should not be deceived by the surface appearance of things—the truth is always more striking than appearances."

"Oh, I know this one, sister—those two lines you just quoted are Bai Juyi's," Mu Ningxiang said.

"Indeed they are. You truly live up to being the biggest fan of Bai Letian," Ren Jingting said with a smile.

Mu Ningxiang smiled back, and after watching her sit down, quietly whispered to Zheng Huiwen, "Senior, why do I get the feeling at first glance that this girl has quite a story behind her?"

"I feel the same," Zheng Huiwen whispered back. "I sense a hint of melancholy in her eyes."

They say a woman's sixth sense is the sharpest, and indeed these two girls were not mistaken—many of the most compelling dramas unfold around the most unassuming characters.

The two girls kept chatting, while the girl named Ren Jingting continued sitting silently by the bookshelf, reading. So quiet and composed was she, like a carving of white jade, that it was a pleasure just to look at her, and no one had the heart to disturb her.

After Tang Haoyang finished greeting the new students, and seeing that lunchtime was approaching, he looked at Zheng Huiwen's retreating figure, gathered his courage, stepped forward, and carefully reached out to tap her shoulder, calling out, "Huiwen?"

Zheng Huiwen turned around to look at him. Tang Haoyang, after much deliberation, finally said, "Would you... would you like to have lunch together with me?"

But she declined: "Ah, but I've already promised Ningxiang we'd go eat together. Maybe another day."

Tang Haoyang's heart sank. He had clearly heard that the two of them hadn't made any such arrangement just now—it was obviously a deliberate excuse. His heart felt as though doused in ice water, and he felt terrible. Then he received a message from Ren Jie—it seemed he'd have to go with Ren Jie again after all. He and Ren Jie were both fellow schoolmates in the same lineage and roommates, as well as frequent companions. Tang Haoyang was usually a serious, humorless person, being something of a bookworm, with looks and physique that weren't particularly striking. He was quite nearsighted, with a pair of thick, black square-framed glasses perched on his low nose bridge, the lenses so thick they made his eyes look even smaller. He wasn't funny, nor was he particularly wealthy, so more often than not, he kept quiet. And yet, even so, the affection for another that stirred in his heart could not be buried—like a healthy sapling, though one tinged with humility.