Chapter 194: The Levels of Love

"Is Japanese culture this reserved?" Lady He Ben asked.

"Rather, all circles influenced by Eastern Asian culture are like this. Though their language contains the word 'love,' they rarely use it in romantic contexts."

"Why? Too shy to say it?"

Henry thought for a moment and said: "In Eastern culture, this word represents an intense emotion. If you rate emotional intensity from one to ten, where ten is the kind of feeling where, after meeting as strangers and eventually losing each other, one might follow the other into death—"

"People in Western cultures might use the word 'LOVE' as early as level three or four. And they apply it to parents, siblings, children—its objects are countless."

"Thus, the emotion conveyed by this word feels less intense. In contrast, Eastern cultures use different words to express feelings toward different people."

"Like 'reverent love,' 'friendship love,' 'caring love'—the single word 'love' is mostly reserved for romantic relationships. And even then, it might only be spoken between lovers at level eight, or even nine."

"They wouldn't even say it to their beloved in public. But this distinction existed only a century ago, before the two cultural spheres fully interacted."

"Nowadays, the line is blurred. Even for a one-night stand, the word has become so cheap that people say it freely."

Audrey He Ben asked curiously: "Then how do they express their feelings? Do Easterners have superpowers—when a boy and girl lock eyes, they instantly build a mental bridge and understand each other without speaking?"

Henry smiled and said: "That's impossible. They simply prefer metaphors—more artistic or abstract ways to describe inner emotions. For example—"

"'As long as I have him, even if I possess only a tiny corner of this world, I am utterly content.'"

"'My eyes weep rain for him, yet my heart holds an umbrella for him.'"

"'You reside quietly within my heart, like the full moon in the night sky.'"

Audrey He Ben recognized these lines and smiled sweetly: "Ah, Tagore's poetry."

"Yes. This poet, steeped in Indian tradition yet harmoniously embracing Western culture, left behind many works worthy of enduring praise."

"Hey, he's universally recognized as one of the world's top ten literary giants. How come you only think he's 'pretty good'?" Audrey He Ben laughed.

Henry could only think: when he says "world," he means the world led by the British Empire.

Islamic culture and Eastern culture were never included in this "world." Unless people from these alien cultures voluntarily entered the Western circle and followed Western rules.

As in that Stephen Chow movie: the referee and umpire are all their people—if you think you can win, you're dreaming!

Lady He Ben, sounding slightly indignant, asked: "Then, Henry, what's your favorite metaphor for expressing emotion? One that conveys intense feeling without ever saying the word 'love.'"

"And!" She held up both hands, using all ten fingers. Pouting, she added: "The emotional intensity must be close to your ten."

Henry paused, then smiled: "Wait a moment—I'll get paper and pen."

When he returned, he wrote two lines of neat, square Chinese characters in ink on a large blank notebook: "Heaven and earth may last long, but even they have an end; this sorrow continues endlessly without pause."

"This is… Chinese?"

"Yes."

"What does it mean?" Audrey He Ben asked, full of curiosity.

"Even heaven, though high and long, and earth, though wide and enduring, are finite things. But my sorrow is endless, without cessation."

"It's about hate?" Audrey He Ben widened her eyes.

"The deeper the love, the deeper the hate when that emotion is reversed. Likewise, the deeper the hate, the more profound the love must have been."

"Oh～, you can put it that way?" Audrey He Ben stared at the written lines, savoring them, and sighed in genuine admiration.

Lady He Ben asked again: "What work is this from? A love story?"

"You could call it a love story—but one with a tragic ending."

"Can you tell me about it?" The lady's eyes shimmered.

Few could withstand those eyes—the same ones that had captivated audiences in films. At least Henry couldn't.

Henry picked up his pen again and wrote two more Chinese characters: "The Song of Everlasting Sorrow," Bai Juyi. He said: "The author lived roughly twelve hundred years ago—a renowned poet of his time. His work describes…"

Traditional literature has a feature: allusion. A few words can invoke a reference, and the story behind it is assumed known—or left for the reader to discover.

So when explaining "The Song of Everlasting Regret," Henry had to explain the allusions, their meanings, and their function—whether metaphorical or symbolic, extracting some essence from the original tale.

Sometimes it wasn't allusion but imagery: the line "a single branch of pear blossoms, wet with spring rain" depicts the Consort's tearful beauty, fragile and touching.

Henry sketched with a pencil, drawing the pear blossoms, then adding the rain's atmosphere around them.

Moreover, "The Song of Everlasting Regret" contains two storylines: Emperor Xuanzong and Consort Yang, and Emperor Wu of Han and Lady Li. Translating all eight hundred and forty characters of this narrative poem into English would have killed every cell in Henry's superbrain.

Mostly because Audrey He Ben refused a flat, literal translation that stripped away the original's beauty. She needed Henry's sketches and lengthy explanations to grasp it.

So sometimes a single line required multiple revisions—even borrowing from European and American poetry—to satisfy her.

At this point, Henry had to admire the literary figure Lin Yutang, who had somehow written a biography of Su Dongpo in English and translated famous poems into forms that fit Western poetic structures.

In the end, translating "The Song of Everlasting Regret" took several days, intermittently. Without a superhuman memory, this task would never have been completed so quickly.

During this time, Robert sometimes came to offer insights or word suggestions.

Three full notebooks were used—filled with revised lines, simple sketches, and the stories behind every allusion, all written out word by word at Audrey He Ben's request.

(End of Chapter)