Chapter 133: White Emperor City (Requesting Subscriptions!)

At dawn I bid farewell to White Emperor City amid colorful clouds; a thousand li to Jiangling, I return in a single day.

The cries of apes along both banks never cease; already my light boat has passed ten thousand mountains.

This was a classical poem Li Heng could recite before he turned ten.

Yet standing before White Emperor City, he was still awed by the town’s deep historical weight.

He and his English teacher each held an umbrella with a wooden handle and black canopy, imitating Li Bai’s demeanor as they strode boldly through wind and rain.

After walking two stone-paved streets, his English teacher, who had remained silent, suddenly spoke: “The forecast says tomorrow will be cloudy turning clear—shall we set off?”

Li Heng stopped at a cotton candy stall, spent ten fen to buy two cotton candies, and handed one to her.

“If it stops raining, we leave. We can’t linger here too long—I still have many places to go.”

The English teacher took the cotton candy, bit into it, and smiled: “Don’t give me candy anymore—I need to keep my figure.”

Li Heng glanced at her instinctively and blurted out, almost against his will: “You could afford to be a little plumper—might be more appealing.”

The English teacher’s gaze sharpened; she turned her head, half-lidded eyes narrowing at him, and scoffed: “I think you’re looking for death.”

Li Heng stared at the sky, pretending not to hear, and kept eating his candy.

On the way back, they ate a bowl of spicy sour rice noodles—numbing and fiery. They stared at each other, like two lapdogs, saliva flooding their mouths, utterly delicious.

The English teacher swept her hair back: “Why is it so spicy?”

The vendor asked: “Where are you from? This is exactly the extra spice you asked for!”

Li Heng smiled: “We’re from Shanghai.”

He dared not say he was from southern Hunan—this level of spice would be embarrassing.

Shanghai would do fine—after all, they didn’t eat spice, and their standard Mandarin could pass.

The vendor raised his thumb: “You two look like people from a big city—no wonder you’re from Shanghai! Daring to challenge our extra spice—admirable courage!”

The word “couple” left them both silent; they hurriedly finished eating and slipped away quickly.

When they entered the hotel, Li Heng suddenly asked: “Teacher, do I look old?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re teacher and student.”

Oh ho!

The English teacher’s chest rose sharply; she instantly exploded, her glasses glinting with a dangerously cold glare as she retorted: “What? Am I old?”

“Ah ha…”

Li Heng cheerfully entered his room.

One downside of summer: you have to wash clothes every day—so annoying. Damn it! When will a woman take care of all this for me?

A great writer squatting to scrub laundry—so damn undignified!

After indulging in self-pity, Li Heng washed and hung his clothes, then pulled out a book he carried everywhere and read with quiet contentment.

Not long after, the English teacher knocked on his door: “Li Ran and Zhang Zhiyong haven’t come back yet.”

Li Heng sat down and kept reading: “These two have done this before—just wait.”

He tilted his head and glanced at her: “If you want to come to my room, just come—no need for such a clumsy excuse.”

The English teacher crossed her arms and clearly spat out one word: “Go!”

Li Heng sprang up reflexively, then sat back down dazedly: “Wait, this is my room—why are you so arrogant?”

The English teacher smiled faintly, adjusted her glasses, walked to the window, leaned on the railing, and gazed outside—ignoring him completely.

At just after ten at night, Li Ran and Zhang Zhiyong returned, carrying a bag of wild game and several bottles of beer.

The four sat together, chatting and sharing their day’s observations, not sleeping until very late.

…

The next day.

As the English teacher had predicted, the rain had stopped, the sky cleared, and it was a fine day.

Early in the morning, the four bid farewell to White Emperor City and entered the Three Gorges, stretching two hundred kilometers.

On the water, two hundred kilometers is no short distance. Yet you will never feel the Creator has written too long a passage. The power and beauty gathered here, if stretched over two thousand kilometers, would still never bore you.

Qutang Gorge, Wu Gorge, Xiling Gorge—each gorge is densely packed; even the slowest pace cannot unravel them. Even the sun and moon, shining over ten thousand li, are squeezed out here.

A thousand five hundred years ago, Li Daoyuan said it best:

On both banks, mountains connect without break; layered cliffs and piled ridges obscure the sky and block the sun—unless it is noon or midnight, you cannot see the sun or moon.

Aside from Li Heng, the English teacher, Li Ran, and Zhang Zhiyong were all riding a boat for the first time; their exclamations of wonder and unrestrained laughter never ceased.

Midway, Li Ran said to Li Heng and the English teacher: “Li Heng, Teacher Wang, stand closer—I’ll take a photo of you two.”

“Sure.”

Li Heng readily agreed, tilting his head slightly toward the English teacher; they faced the camera and took their first photo together.

Though they had taken photos before, back then Li Heng had been focused on writing and hadn’t actively participated.

Then the four asked the boatman to help them line up facing away from the river for a group photo.

The Three Gorges were long, but ultimately could not outlast the light boat. At just after nine at night, there was no farewell, no excitement, no chanting.

Leaving only stillness behind for the Three Gorges, Li Heng and the others moved on.

He hadn’t wanted to rush so hard, but the agreed-upon date had passed—he feared Zou Ping would wait too long at Dongting Lake—so he boarded a train that night.

In the hard-sleeper carriage, Li Heng couldn’t sleep. After a brief rest upon boarding, he pulled out paper and pen and eagerly began writing his “Three Gorges” chapter.

The English teacher sat beside him as usual and asked gently: “Why so urgent?”

“My mind is full of ideas and inspiration—if I don’t write them down, I won’t sleep tonight.” Li Heng didn’t look up.

The English teacher understood his feeling—her question had been born of concern, not curiosity.

Seeing his dedication, she stayed silent, opened her newly bought paper fan, fanned him gently, and quietly enjoyed watching the words flow from his pen.

Li Ran, bored, had wanted to invite them to play cards—but seeing them like this, he lost the urge.

He pulled Zhang Zhiyong into the narrow corridor outside and whispered: “What do you think they look like now?”

Zhang Zhiyong cautiously peered over, then shook his head: “What do they look like? Haven’t they always been like this?”

“Idiot!”

Li Ran sneered: “If you ever find a wife, I’ll drink the entire Yangtze dry!”

Zhang Zhiyong jumped up, dumbfounded: “Find a wife? All these days you’ve dragged me running around—I thought you were chasing me!”

“You—!”

Li Ran choked on his words, then retorted after a long pause: “Forget whether I’m chasing you. With your build, you’ll be joining my dad in six months.”

Zhang Zhiyong didn’t believe it, sticking out his neck: “You’re that good in bed?”

Li Ran rolled his eyes, proudly: “Whether I’m good or not—you won’t get a taste.”

“Pfft!”

Zhang Zhiyong spat unhygienically: “You think I’m interested in you? I only like Sister Chunhua.”

“Who’s Sister Chunhua?” Li Ran asked curiously.

At this question, Zhang Zhiyong fell silent. On this return to the village, he’d learned from Liu Chunhua’s brother that she had secured a new job and started working.

Liu Chunhua’s brother had bragged that her boss had taken a liking to her and was actively trying to arrange a marriage between her and his son.

When Zhang Zhiyong heard this, he’d been so furious he hadn’t slept all morning—he’d wanted to storm into Shaodong and make a scene. But after learning the boss was someone even his aunt’s husband dared not offend, he had to suppress his rage.

That was why he’d come out again with Li Heng—to get some distance, and to avoid staying home too long and losing control, maybe even picking up a knife to go kill someone.

So Li Heng had forcibly dragged him out under the excuse of “out of sight, out of mind.”

PS: Requesting monthly tickets! Requesting subscriptions!

(End of chapter)