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Scattered oranges on a pink and orange carpet.



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  1. Public Bookmark 40

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    Bloodied steel shone, vicious in the low light, seeping wetly under the gauzy fabric. Zhou Zishu was a butterfly mounted by his wings.

    The rescue, the uncertain thereafter, and the lengths they will go to for devotion. Spoilers for episode 31.
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    12 Apr 2021

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    The thing with musical prodigies is that they're soloists, and soloists play alone. He doesn't want to play alone anymore.

    -

    "A summer guest lecture series? Oh, very nice. I wish I could sit in on that."

    "Do you also play the piano?"

    "Not even a little bit," says Wei Ying cheerfully. "But I'm sure you'd have a lot of thoughts on musicality that would be relevant regardless."

    "Oh," says Lan Zhan. He seems to be searching for something else to say. "I believe it is oversubscribed," he says finally.

    "As it should be," says Wei Ying, and does not tell him that he has all of Lan Zhan's albums downloaded onto his phone, listened to over and over when he's on a train, a plane, waiting for a taxi, has followed his career since he overheard half a Mendelssohn when they were fifteen.

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    09 Apr 2021

  3. Public Bookmark 69

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    Where one goes, the other will follow.

    (Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing descend from their mountain and wander for a bit.)

    Language:
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    69
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    09 Apr 2021

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “You can go on, if you want,” he said when Zhou Zishu stopped for breath. “Scold and punish me for seven years, then I will scold you for the next seven, and then we’ll have to find something else to do.”

    The thought of years took any other words out of his mouth. Zhou Zishu had gotten used to measuring time in thimblefuls. A New Year’s day, a drift of peach blossoms blown off the trees: each one, perhaps, the last he would see. There wasn’t a container in his mind big enough to hold years, decades, centuries.

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    09 Apr 2021

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “That’s your dad?” Jingyi asks slowly.

    “Yes?” Sizhui sits up a little, propped on his elbows. He feels wrong-footed, and glances back at the picture for some sort of hint as to what’s going on. “Why?”

    Jingyi sits up, too, and hands the phone back.

    “Your dad is my dad’s ex-husband,” he says bluntly. “Come on. Get your jacket. We’ll need ice cream for this one.”

    It’s a very strange way to have your life turned completely upside down, Sizhui thinks.

    Language:
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    09 Apr 2021

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