Chapter 5: Wishes Fulfilled, Blossoms Along the Journey

“Listen to me?” Lin Shendeer looked at An Muxi inquiringly.

An Muxi nodded.

“If you listen to me, then don’t be anxious. Let’s rest for now. Dali is a place made for a slower pace of life.” Lin Shendeer stretched lazily, grinning as he spoke.

In the gentle breeze, An Muxi remained silent, facing toward Erhai Lake, where the Cangshan mountains stretched on, shrouded by lingering clouds that would not disperse.

A long silence fell between them.

“Lin Shendeer, I actually don’t have much time,” An Muxi suddenly said softly.

Lin Shendeer lowered his head in silence, pulling a cigarette from his pocket, only to realize he’d forgotten his lighter.

He drew a deep breath, letting the sea breeze stand in for the smoke, filling his lungs.

Lin Shendeer continued, “If you don’t have much time, does that mean you shouldn’t travel properly?”

He paused, then went on, “Is the meaning of travel really just coming here to snap a few photos? Is it really about going from a city you’re tired of to another city someone else is tired of, just to keep being tired?”

“Is traveling really just about going somewhere pretty to take pictures?” Lin Shendeer turned to ask An Muxi.

An Muxi shook her head gently but said nothing.

“I don’t think travel is like that… Not in my understanding…”

“That’s enough. You don’t understand me, and you don’t know what I want.” An Muxi’s voice was still cold.

“So? What is it you want?” Lin Shendeer waved his hand, pressing on.

An Muxi looked at Lin Shendeer, meeting his gaze directly.

A long moment passed.

“I just want to be alone for a while.” As she finished, whatever warmth had gathered between them faded away completely.

With a gentle movement, An Muxi slipped off the coat draped over her shoulders and handed it back to Lin Shendeer.

“That’s all. I’m going to rest.” She quietly fastened the button at her chest, one arm wrapped around the other.

She turned and walked toward the entrance of the Erduo Inn.

In Lin Shendeer’s eyes, her figure seemed slight and frail, and yet there was a strength about her that could not be denied.

“Hey!” Lin Shendeer called, slinging the jacket over his shoulder.

An Muxi stopped, turning her head slightly to look back at him.

There was a trace of confusion and inquiry in her eyes.

The wind blew again.

It tousled the ends of An Muxi’s hair.

Yet it could not hide that exquisite face.

An Muxi brushed the strands from her cheek to the side.

“What is it?” As she spoke, a faint smile flickered at the corner of her lips, as if she’d suddenly remembered some familiar scene.

Lin Shendeer’s eyes lit up, for at that moment, as he called out and An Muxi turned, he felt the same emotion stirring within him.

From that tiny smile, Lin Shendeer knew—in that instant, their hearts were in accord.

“How about I take you to pick matsutake mushrooms in the morning?” Lin Shendeer leaned lightly against a nearby tree as he spoke.

“Is it alright if I don’t go?” An Muxi asked, tilting her head.

“If you don’t go…what are we going to eat?” Lin Shendeer feigned surprise.

“We’ll see,” An Muxi said, turning her head away, both hands clasped behind her back.

Her fingertips touched, and the gesture was elegant beyond words.

Lin Shendeer sighed, the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

He was, after all, not Yin Tianqiu, and An Muxi was not Liu Piaopiao.

Jokes aside, neither of them could utter that famous line: “I’ll take care of you…”

Not even in jest could it be said aloud.

An Muxi entered the inn, her figure vanishing from sight.

Lin Shendeer propped his chin in his hand, gazing at the shimmering surface of Erhai Lake.

An old man rowed his boat slowly closer.

“Uncle, could I borrow a light?”

…

“Boy, don’t toss your cigarette butt into Erhai, protect the environment, eh!”

…

“Uncle, could I hire your boat to pick some water buttercups? I’ll pay you,” Lin Shendeer said as he offered the old man a cigarette.

“That stuff? What do you want to pick that for? Feed it to the pigs?” the old man asked, curious.

Those words nearly made Lin Shendeer choke with laughter, but just as the old man finished, he did start coughing.

Glancing down at the cigarette Lin Shendeer had handed him, he asked, “What kind of cigarette is this? It’s so strong!”

“Kuanzhai, from my hometown. Is it alright, uncle?”

The smoke made the old man cough for quite a while.

“So you mean, water buttercups aren’t edible?” Lin Shendeer asked, curious.

“They’re edible—back when we had no money, we ate anything: bark, roots, you name it. This stuff isn’t tasty though; it’s just something to fool outsiders like you into eating…” The old man carefully tucked the spent stub into his pocket.

“But I’ve heard that when you pick fresh water buttercups yourself, the tender parts taste quite good when stir-fried,” Lin Shendeer persisted.

He had read many guides and blogs about Yunnan.

This local specialty of Erhai and Lugu Lake, lauded as a water quality indicator, was highly recommended.

To eat a plate of water buttercups and drink a bottle of Wind, Flower, Snow, and Moon—between the dishes and the drink, that was the essence of romantic Dali.

“To me, it’s just pig or fish feed… Sure, it’s pretty when it blooms, but tell me—aren’t there enough greens in the market for you to eat?” The old man’s words left Lin Shendeer silent.

“Get on the boat, boy, I’ll show you these beautiful flowers. Once you’ve seen enough, you won’t want to eat them,” the old man said, patting the little boat beneath him.

…

Lin Shendeer climbed aboard, sitting quietly and obediently behind the old man.

The old man skillfully worked the oars, the little boat trailing ripples across the calm surface of Erhai as it slipped toward the heart of the lake.

“These water buttercups—their petals are terribly fragile, like butterfly wings. Butterfly wings are beautiful, aren’t they? But once you catch one in your hand and the scales come off, the wings look pitiful. The flowers bloom by the thousands on the water’s surface… their stems hidden below. But once you pull them up—look…”

As he spoke, the old man dipped an oar into the water and hooked up a long string of green stems, dozens of little white blossoms still attached.

It had to be said, just moments before, Lin Shendeer had been utterly captivated by the beauty of the water buttercups on the lake’s surface.

Above the clear emerald waves, the blossoms bloomed, their tiny yellow centers ethereal as fairy dust.

The tender white petals and pale yellow hearts, hundreds and thousands floating on the water, turned the sparkling lake into a celestial paradise, causing one to forget all sorrow and care.

But once yanked up, stems and all, the scene changed entirely.

“Uncle, you’ve truly ruined the goddess of my heart,” Lin Shendeer sighed, gazing at the little white flowers, now even more delicate, their petals moistened by droplets.

“You only miss your goddess when she’s shining down on you?” The old man gave the oar a shake, tossing the water buttercups, and even sang a line on the spot.

Lin Shendeer shook his head in resignation.

“There’s plenty of good food in Dali—don’t eat this stuff… Even my pigs won’t touch it. If you come back in a few months, I’ll take you to my place and we’ll have fresh pork…”

With a wave, the old man scattered the buttercups across the water.

All that was left were the wilted white blossoms and exposed stems bobbing on the surface.

Suddenly, Lin Shendeer’s appetite was gone.

He had come looking to fall in love with a new delicacy, but the old man’s demonstration had… well, cured him of that notion.