Chapter 121: To the Lighthouse, Like You and Me

“Mm… Gou Wazi… he was my childhood playmate… If I find Gou Wazi, I’ll have found my home…” Su Bao’er turned back to gaze at the net of little dried fish being laid out along the shore, growing farther and farther away.

Lin Shenlu shook his head.

It had been more than half a month, and he had still thought “Deer Boy” was such a fine name.

…

The island tour continued at an unhurried pace. The sightseeing bus followed a route that circled Temple Lake Island.

Leaving the pier and continuing clockwise, they had the sea on their left and guesthouses on their right. After departing from Dongji Rock, they climbed toward the hills, passed through a residential area, and arrived once more at the bird-watching platform.

The bird-watching platform was also a place to watch the sunset.

It was the most beautiful spot on Temple Lake Island for watching the sun melt into gold.

In the distance, misty blue-green waters stretched endlessly toward the horizon.

As for whether the sunset would be beautiful, Lin Shenlu could almost picture it without seeing it. He had admired the sunsets over the world’s ten most famous beaches countless times in videos and photographs.

Some people held a special affection for sunrises and sunsets, but not everyone did.

Lin Shenlu, at least, was not that devoted to them.

It was already afternoon, and the sun was slowly sinking westward.

Warm yellow light enveloped nearby Huangxing Island. Sunlight scattered across the sea, turning its surface into a field of glittering ripples. The entire scene resembled an oil painting.

The sea breeze was a little cold. Surely the sunset here would be beautiful too.

Lin Shenlu turned to look at An Muxi.

She was the girl who had watched sunsets with him.

A sunset could be beautiful, but what was harder to forget was the person who watched it with you.

Perhaps, whenever the two of them recalled their memories of sunsets in the years to come, those memories would remain something private and entirely their own.

An Muxi seemed to have arrived at the same thought. She turned and met Lin Shenlu’s gaze.

They both seemed to know that the other was thinking exactly what they were.

They exchanged a smile, and Lin Shenlu suddenly felt a little embarrassed.

The sunset in Dali had been painted in pink clouds.

That had been the first sunset they watched together.

How many more sunsets would they see, in the years ahead?

In Lin Shenlu’s heart, it did not matter where the future took them. As long as An Muxi was by his side, that was enough.

…

The sightseeing bus continued onward. This time, it passed a military base, where photography was strictly forbidden. Temple Lake Island served as the entrance to the foremost outpost at sea, and many soldiers stood watch here.

Guarding the eastern gateway of their homeland, the Maritime Frontier Guardians Viewing Platform was an especially rare sight.

The three of them rode the island-circling bus all the way, passing Dongji Rock Beach before arriving at Dongji Pavilion.

Unlike the bird-watching platform, Dongji Pavilion was the finest place on Temple Lake Island to watch the sunrise.

The view was broad and unobstructed, and Qingbang Island could even be seen in the distance.

According to legend, at five in the morning, before the sun had risen, faint blue-violet halos could be seen hovering over Qingbang Island.

The light was dreamlike. Of course, it was rare to see such blue-violet radiance on an island.

This was one of Dongji Island’s great marvels.

Continuing onward, Lin Shenlu finally saw the little house he had long yearned to visit—the one blown apart in the film The Continent.

It had become a newly popular check-in attraction in recent years. After filming ended, the house was reconstructed as a tourist site. A typhoon had reportedly destroyed it again several years ago, and even after being rebuilt, it remained uninhabited. Still, it attracted plenty of young women eager to take photographs.

This was the final destination of their island tour, and the only place Lin Shenlu had come specifically to pay his respects and take pictures.

The legendary God of Freedom.

The statue of Lord Cai.

A colossal yellow statue dressed in a fisherman’s vest and loose cropped trousers.

Unlike the Statue of Liberty, the statue of Lord Cai was known as Dongji Island’s God of Freedom. This was probably because of the legend passed down through Qingbang and Temple Lake Islands that the Bodhisattva wore fishermen’s trousers. The statue of Lord Cai, too, held aloft a bright red torch.

The statue stood at the highest point of the mountaintop. Beneath it lay a small garden, whose walls were covered with colorful paintings recounting his legendary story.

Beyond the woodland on the mountain, at the edge of the sea, stood Dongji Island’s foremost internet-famous lighthouse.

When Lin Shenlu had painted a lighthouse on the Art Wall in Lishui, the lighthouse he had imagined was this one on Dongji Island.

Though he had never visited Dongji Island, whenever he thought of the place back then, this red-and-white lighthouse would appear in his mind.

Lin Shenlu got off the bus with An Muxi and Su Bao’er, ready to take a look at the famous lighthouse.

After passing the rainbow stairs, he drew closer and closer to the lighthouse.

In the voyage of life, there should always be a bright lighthouse in one’s heart.

That was the phrase associated with the famous lighthouse.

Amid the vast blue-green sea, the red-and-white lighthouse pointed the way for passing ships.

Lin Shenlu stood quietly to one side and took a photograph of the endless sea and the lighthouse.

He posted it to his social feed.

The caption read:

A young man goes in pursuit of light. Though he cannot withstand the tides, he will always remember the lighthouse.

In truth, everyone carries a lighthouse hidden within their heart.

Go to the lighthouse, and amid waves splintered by drifting light, witness the romance of sea and sky meeting in a kiss.

Go to the lighthouse, cross the sea standing in the fog, and illuminate the confusion of those traveling through the night.

Go to the lighthouse. Look upon the sea beneath the stars, the radiant road ahead. Ignite the torch within your heart, preserve your love, and set out toward the next range of mountains and seas.

Go to the lighthouse. Look back across a hundred years. The righteous path is weathered by time; life is an inn for travelers, and I too am merely passing through.

Spring winds grow warm again, and the world returns to its daily rhythm. Fortunately, there is light, and we will always meet again.

…

No matter how complicated the world may become, never let the lighthouse in your heart go dark.

Evening arrived.

Would the lighthouse shine?

Would it kindle a single orange light in the blue night sky, illuminating the vast sea and heavens?

An Muxi quietly posted to her social feed:

Evening is the romance of orange and blue.

Perhaps it was because they had seen the lighthouse at dusk.

Lin Shenlu gently drew An Muxi into his arms.

A lighthouse might not be able to illuminate the whole sea, but Lin Shenlu was willing to illuminate An Muxi’s entire life.

A lighthouse never searches for ships. It simply shines in silence.

Just like Lin Shenlu. He had never deliberately intruded upon her, yet he had always been there.

Even if the night swallowed everything, the sun could begin again.

An Muxi understood all of this.

Though neither of them spoke, their hearts held everything.

Just like the lighthouse before them.

This lighthouse seemed less a beacon than a watchman, crossing the sea and the dawn to accompany you and me across the lonely ocean.

If you are lost, you must come to Dongji Island and see the lighthouse.

…

After they had finished admiring the lighthouse, Lin Shenlu and An Muxi realized that they had been lost in their reflections for so long that they had forgotten Su Bao’er was there.

At that moment, Su Bao’er was lying on a reef, using several small stones in her hands to build something.

She had made a little person.

The little figure stood upon the reef, gazing toward the lighthouse.

Lin Shenlu smiled.

Sure enough, everyone carried a guiding lighthouse within their heart.

It showed them the way forward.

“Mm… Deer Boy, you lot are here… Come and look at my little person… Too bad I don’t have a pen…” Su Bao’er’s regret was that she could not draw eyes and a mouth on the little figure.

An Muxi bent down, took an eyeliner pencil and a lipstick from her handbag, then gently picked up the stones and drew the eyes Su Bao’er wanted.

Lin Shenlu was deeply moved.

He was not the only lighthouse. An Muxi, too, was illuminating the lives of others.