Can't travel tonight

Hi, hello! After hesitating again and again, I still don't know what to call you, and I can't help being a little reserved and even embarrassed when greeting you. Even though I knew in my heart that this greeting would not reach your ears, including what I was going to say next and my feelings, you would never know, but I still felt very nervous.

The afternoon when I suddenly decided to write to you was just "since I'm so curious, why don't I write you a letter". But ever since this idea sprouted, I began to fall into a kind of inexplicable panic, and I began to feel uneasy before I planned to start writing. Open a blank document, stay in a daze for a long time, or escape for a long time, and when you are ready to escape completely, you don't know what to do. This matter has always bothered me. It seems that this letter already exists, maybe it is the wordless scripture printed in the "Tian Shu Qi Tan" that I read in the morning, just put it in the water and soak it, and it will be there.

So I tried to write to you for the third time, an "untitled" blank document always made me shy, and I was reminded of a painting of yours over and over, which was actually more like writing a poem, "Hydrangea in Missing in the Rain", the painting is a blooming hydrangea, a petal turned into a small and exquisite woman, and quietly left. What kind of imagination is this, it must be beautiful, wonderful, amazing, but it seems that every additional adjective makes me feel that something is wrong, and I feel ashamed of my poverty, so I have to repeat it honestly, where are you? What to see between rainy days and hydrangea. It is raining, and the hydrangea blooms too much, and the petals are scattered, but you think it is a long-planned case of voluntary disappearance. A lively and brisk little girl slipped away to play while it was raining. I like it - I don't know how to put it, maybe it's "an image", and it seems too pompous and fake. I have been reluctant to use any high-sounding words to describe what you gave, because it is too precious, and the extra is too idiotic, and it will only make it disappear from it.

I originally wanted to use "Hydrangea Missing in Rain" as the title, but I always felt that it was inappropriate. It was a very bad move for me to take your things without saying a word. So I used a poem that I haven't finished yet. I don't seem to know what it means, so I couldn't finish it. But I have a hunch that if I put it here, maybe I can figure it out.

Speaking of the action of "taking away without authorization", I am very sensitive to what you mean by "loss". I read it from an article related to you, "Plagiarists don't just put on a mask similar to the original creator, as people think, but directly take someone else's face-- In addition to anger, the original creator of the plagiarism must feel some kind of loss." This sentence is in quotation marks, probably your original words. In short, I am very touched, because of this, "take away" ("plagiarism"), in my opinion, has an extra layer of terrifying predatory meaning. It is not copy and paste, but leaves a real one, but Really took away something. The thought of this makes you feel so horrified, and I feel more ashamed of my previous thoughts. Although I didn't do it in the end, I apologize to you for the thought.

In fact, you probably understand by now that I am not your reader, but know you through the fact that you were plagiarized, and it was only after you had been suffering for twelve years that I became like many others. Discovering you in hindsight, trying to understand your pain, and maybe wanting to do something - but what can we do, and if anyone could have done something, maybe they should have done it for you twelve years ago. Many people should be ashamed of this, including me, and even want to say sorry to you. What do we look like? We are probably watching a school violence, then silent, or accustomed to it.

I said I hadn't read you, and it was true, and was ashamed of it. Because I think, as a creator, I probably hope to know you in the way of knowing the work. But I want to tell you that I don't pay attention to you and like you because of pity and sympathy for a scar. What I can do, I have already done when I saw you reveal the truth, and as with anything I feel is unfair and wish to improve, there is only so much I can give.

Later I learned about you from someone else - but maybe you told it yourself, I know that you lived in Yunnan as a child, then worked as a salesperson, published your first novel at the age of sixteen, taught yourself Japanese, and wrote novels in addition to Translate favorite Japanese writers. That was enough to surprise me, but it wasn't enough, I wanted to know more, so that afternoon, I was like a Stalker (this is a word a friend taught me, she used to say, I feel used here So apt, I'm just interested in you), and start scrolling through your social media accounts. That's why "the hydrangea disappeared in the rain", and there are more poetic moments. You said that the roll paper you bought was like a long letter on the road because the transportation distance was too long; ", wrote the first half of Hu Yong'er's life, and drew a girl riding a tiger, swinging a fan in the moonlight, how bright and cheerful. As a result, I also flipped through "The Legend of Sansui Ping Yao", and looked for "Tian Shu Qi Tan" (the original work of "Tian Shu Qi Tan" was Luo Guanzhong's "San Suiping Yao Biography"), and I wanted to find out from it. Some clues, moments that are slightly closer to your feelings.

I looked for four of your novels to look at, but it feels like if one identity is formed first, it is difficult to embed another, such as the reader. Maybe next time I write, I'll update you on the progress. But let's be here tonight, and we'll go on a trip together next time. I wish you all your wishes in the near future, and look forward to the smooth publication of your book.