Green Plum IslandCh48 - Letters

“Reporting, Coach. I don’t feel too good!”

When yet another classmate collapses from heat stroke, the strict coach finally calls for everyone to take a five-minute breather. BvyZSG

It’s hot and stuffy inside our camouflage suits, like being stuck in a food steamer where no air escapes. As the sun beams down, the heat causes liquid to rise out of our bodies, coagulating into large beads of sweat that drip onto the ground.

It’s so hot.

Chrysanthemum Garden.

I’ve never sweat so much in my life.

Yan Kongshan really meant it when he said that military training is going to kill me. oy2zOY

“Reporting, Coach. I don’t fell well either!”

This voice is familiar. I turn, and of course, it’s Fu Wei. At the coach’s permission, he walks slowly from a nearby formation to the edge of the field and sits down in the shade of a tree.

When I first ran into him during freshman orientation, I thought he was crazy enough to have followed me all the way to university, and got into a brawl with him. Later, he confirmed that he got into Hong City University as well and his attendance had nothing to do with stalking me. He even brought out his own letter of acceptance as proof, which put an end to our fight before it even began.

I major in French, he studies Economics. Most days, our classes aren’t together and our dorms are far away from each other. It’s only during military training that we have no choice, because the entire freshman class does it together. He got into the school via his own merit, so I really have no reason to reprimand him, except all I wish for is for the two of us to go our separate ways and not see each other again.

After a day of military training, all of us students drag our exhausted bodies back to our dormitories, some heading to the showers and others collapsing over our tables. Since the resident manager confiscated all our phones on the first day of military training, there’s not much to do in the evenings. We start setting up tabletop games: cards, the Werewolf game, among others. Through this, we all start to get to know each other.

However, I often don’t participate in these games. Cards are okay, but the Werewolf game is way too easy for me. I can tell who’s lying and who’s telling the truth with a glance, and I can figure out who my enemies and teammates are from the first round, so it’s boring. I usually prefer reading in my room; at least it’s a lot more interesting.

Heaven is an island, and so is hell.

This is the sentence the author writes at the very beginning of “Atlas of Remote Islands,” and it’s a great summary of the book itself. Fifty islands, fifty hand-drawn maps. Some of the islands are far off and remote, some have long histories, some practice cruel cultures. UZ6BAN

Yan Kongshan gave me this book when I visited his house all those weeks ago. Except I never took the time to read it because geography doesn’t remotely interest me. Thanks to military training though, I finally have the time to give it my attention. Once I start, I can’t stop. Unexpectedly, the author doesn’t spend her time writing about geography; rather, she writes fascinating short stories to bring each island to life before the reader.

If the author went to Green Plum Island, how would she describe it?

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

Ycmf eqbc j alwf, j rxs wjlvfc vfrmfcvfv eqbc la jcv mtjrfv jkjs atf lrijcv’r mjijwlalfr. Ktf lrijcv lr oglfcvis jcv bqfcwlcvfv; la jmmfqar jii jcv abifgjafr jii. Yiv merabwr jcv wbvfgc lcveragljilrjalbc mbwylcf rfjwifrris ab ulnf la lar bkc ecldef nlyf–

“Rb bcf mjgfr ktfatfg j ulgi lr j nlgulc bg cba ktfc rtf wjgglfr. Qtfc la’r vjgx, sbeat ogbw jii atgff nliijufr ujatfg bc atf yfjmt… Vfz lr j ujwf, cb bcf atfgf olutar bg ufar pfjiber… Snfgsbcf jugffr atja rlculcu lrc’a jiibkfv ja qjgalfr. Qtja xlcv bo tfjnfc lr atlr? P klrt P mbeiv ub.” qjLa3g

“…”

I swivel around and see my roommate standing behind me, his eyes staring fixedly at my book. I’m a little impressed that he can make out such tiny words from that distance.

“Ah–E-Excuse me!” His face flushes and he retracts his gaze, apologising profusely. “I meant to ask whether you wanted to eat crisps or not, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to intrude. I’m so sorry!”

He wasn’t exactly intruding, and he’s so stressed out that his mood index is shooting off the charts so I quickly wave my hand and say, “It’s okay, if you’re interested in this book, you can borrow it after I finish.” M6NJfS

“Really?” he asks happily. Then smiles cheerfully, passing me his crisp bag. “Want one? It’s cheese-flavoured.”

I thank him and grab one just for the sake of it.

Read more BL at chrysanthemumgarden (dot) com

In our four-person suite, one person went next-door to play cards, another went to shower, and so the two of us are the only ones present.

This roommate of mine is Wen Youran, whose bed is next to mine. Like me, he doesn’t like socialising. While I read, he likes to flip through comics, munching on all kinds of snacks: sugared plums, crisps, milk sweets… every day it’s something different, and every day he offers me something. H9h2XR

“You live on Green Plum Island, right?” Munching on his crisp like a hamster, he confides, “When we were making our introductions the first day, it left an impression on me. When you said it, I was like, ‘Wow,’ because you really have those island vibes.”

Wen Youran is native to Hong City. The city has a strange attitude towards the island, where people don’t necessarily understand the island in its entirety, but everyone proclaims themselves experts on it. And their knowledge is very mono-faceted; they think island folk are simple-minded and traditional, that we like to dress in colourful, traditional clothing and randomly start hula-dancing in the middle of a conversation.

“What kind of vibe is that?” I wipe my hands and flip a page in the book.

“Like a small island boy. You know, riding a bike in summer with your crush by the ocean, hollering out in happiness, wearing a white shirt and not sweating at all, emitting the pleasant smell of detergent.” He makes the motion of sniffing in my direction. 1EtNuM

“I haven’t washed these clothes I’m wearing in three days.” It’s not that I want to crush his dreams, but it’s better to live more realistically, I think.

He jerks back, a hint of disappointment on his face.

The day military training ends, the coach hands our phones back to us one by one. As soon as I turn mine on, a barrage of notifications bombard me; most are texts from spam messengers, and what’s left are messages from Mum, Dad, Yan Kongshan, and Grandpa, all of them asking after me. I’d informed them that our phones would be confiscated, so none of them would worry when I stopped responding.

After I read through all my texts, I discover that Yan Kongshan actually sent me a letter. Yan Wanqiu had said she’d send me letters and send them through Yan Kongshan, but I can hardly imagine she’s so motivated that she’s started already when my classes haven’t even begun. sc fMJ

But when I go to the front desk to retrieve the letter, there on the envelope, it says “From Yan Wanqiu.” Although the print is very evidently Yan Kongshan’s. Out of excitement, I tear open the letter before I even make it back to my dorm, but before I can start reading, stopping me in my tracks and interrupting me.

When I look up, my brows immediately crease; it’s Fu Wei.

If this were our first time meeting after graduation, I probably would’ve been able to make some small talk with him on account of the fact that we used to be classmates, but after the events of this past summer, I’ve gotten so sick of his endless appearances — and added to the fact that for some reason Yan Kongshan always likes bringing him up, my attitude towards him now has gone from “total ambivalence” to “I really want to beat him up.”

“I’ll be quick.” Fu Wei, sensing my ill demeanor, maintains a safe distance and doesn’t come close. i BuSV

I don’t want to create a scene here at school, so I just stand still, waiting to hear what he has to say.

He darts a quick look at the letter in my hands. “Are you with that bookstore owner now?”

I press the letter to my chest. “It’s not your business.”

Fu Wei’s mood index turns a faint blue and falls slightly from where it’d been at 76. “I got together with Chen Anna,” he says. e9aAbG

The news surprises me a little. The last time we met, Fu Wei hadn’t been pink for her; yet in this short span of time, the two of them have started dating?

“Congrats.” It’s good, I suppose, because I do think they’re a good match. In both looks and personality.

Read more BL at chrysanthemumgarden (dot) com

Back in my room, I finally settle down to read my letter. For the occasion, I wash my hands, wipe them dry carefully, then retrieve two slips of paper from the envelope. The first piece of paper is pink, with cute cartoon animals in the corner. Words scribble across the page in glittery purple, the colour a sharp contrast to the angular, rough handwriting the words are written in. This juxtaposition is cute in a contradictory sort of way.

In the letter, Yan Wanqiu talks about missing me, asks if I miss her, what I’m learning, whether anyone is friends with me, and at the very end, she says she’s stuck in Mario and desperately needs my help and that she hopes I can teach her how to pass the stage. rlXdaS

Smiling, I move on to the second page, thinking it’s a continuation of hers, but the signature is Yan Kongshan’s. There aren’t any extraneous decorations on the plain white paper; there aren’t even any lines. His handwriting is bold, curvy, written with a fountain pen inked with black ink — from the thickness, it’s probably a medium-sized nib.

[Green Plum Island is well, your grandpa is well, Qiuqiu is well, the two cats are well.

The weather has cooled slightly. The roses in the garden have shed all their petals. Last night, the streetlight near the house wasn’t working for some reason. In the resulting darkness, I found there were a lot more stars in the sky.

Every day I leave the house and come back, I always pass under your window; I can’t help glancing over at it. I know you aren’t home, but I still look. YbFVfa

In the past, life on the island was serene, comfortable. Now it’s dull. Without you here, everything is dull.

Green Plum Island is well, your grandpa is well, Qiuqiu is well, the two cats are well. Only I’m not well.

I miss you too much.

I will still be missing you when you read this letter.] ceCnS9

Besides the subtle smell of ink on paper, I can make out the sharper scent of tobacco. I can almost imagine how he looked as he wrote this letter — for air, the window would be open. His hands propped on his desk, a cigarette between his fingers. Scribbling words, and when frustrated, taking a quick smoke.

I press his letter gently to my chest. I wonder if I’ll be able to find a pen and paper that match my feelings in the nearby stationery shop.

It’s said that geese are extraordinarily devoted creatures; because of this, in ancient times, a pair of geese would always be gifted during weddings, called “betrothal geese.” Whether or not this goose Yan Kongshanis devoted or not is a whole other matter, but he definitely knows how to flirt. I’m no match for him at all.

Sigh, what do I do? Summer holidays have just ended and I’m already looking forward to winter holidays. xCglQE

I take my phone out and first give Grandpa a call, letting him know that all is well. After we hang up, I check the time. The bookstore should still be open and Yan Kongshan probably won’t be able to pick up, but I try calling him anyway.

The call tone barely sounds before someone picks up, so swiftly that it stuns me.

“Hello?” comes Yan Kongshan’s voice from the other end. At first it’s quiet, like he’s in a room, but then there’s the sound of a heavy metal door, and his surroundings get noisier, filled with the hum of air conditioner units. I imagine he’s probably gone outside.

I press the phone closer to my ear. “I miss you too,” I say quietly. SfCXrE

He laughs softly, happy to the core.

“Yes, I know.”

Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.