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墨書 Inktalez
Yuejiang flipped the photo over, revealing Mu Lian's handwriting on the back.
"Everyone carries some secrets to their grave, but they all try to express them to lighten the burden of their souls," Yuejiang said, her voice trembling with emotion as she read the words aloud.
"Lin Hai:
There is one thing I must tell you before I leave.
The person I have always loved is you. Back then, you were silent and insecure, barely expressing any feelings except through your art. That’s why I intentionally let you get close to the optimistic and cheerful Du Lan, but I never expected that Du Lan would end up loving me too.
After he learned of my choice, he saw you as a rival. Do you remember that time we were working in the village? You complained about the ridiculous commune, saying, 'I really want to fight him!' Do you realize how much trouble that complaint could bring you? In those days when the Cultural Revolution was still ongoing, such 'counter-revolutionary' remarks could lead to denunciation, beating, or even death.
Du Lan threatened me with this; if I didn’t agree to him, he would expose everything. Lin Hai, do you understand now why I said I would marry Du Lan back then? I didn’t want anything to happen to you, even if it meant sacrificing myself.
Lin Hai, I love you, so for your sins, I am willing to repay them together with you."
Shao Chong and Yusheng fell into a long silence after their shock. Yuejiang cried as she said, "Dad loved Mom deeply throughout his life. This love drove him to madness; he believed Mom would hate him to the core. He lived his entire life in guilt and misunderstanding."
On the back of the photo was another phrase in Russian: "My sun."
Yuejiang and Yusheng returned to the studio once more. With a heavy heart, Yuejiang said, "I think we can never go back to how things were before. If only life could be as it was at first sight."
"Lin Hai was once extremely satisfied with those pigments, fearing that the factory would one day go bankrupt, so he bought many and stored them away, only to unknowingly suffer harm from the very pigments he cherished. Perhaps this is what they call retribution," Yuejiang said with a pained expression, almost as if she were murmuring to herself. "Yusheng, will you still love me?"
Yusheng slowly walked over and gently embraced Yuejiang, allowing her to tremble in his arms. He spoke softly, "Let the loves and hates of the older generation be forever sealed within these Water Lilies. Yuejiang, I will not love you more because you are the teacher's daughter, nor will I love you less because you are the enemy's daughter. I love you simply for being you."
Listening to him, Yuejiang smiled through her tears. "My father was tormented by the suppressed truth throughout his life. I finally understand his thoughts behind the number thirteen; in Buddhism, it signifies completeness and conclusion. My father painted Water Lilies all his life to express his inner repentance. The lotus symbolizes redemption, transcendence, and rebirth."
"Indeed, love is much like art—both are lonely pursuits. The desire to express oneself entwines with the soul day and night. To reveal the secrets hidden within, one may spend a lifetime doing so. The teacher made grave mistakes and suffered greatly, yet behind all the sins and struggles lies a profound love. Yuejiang, I can understand the teacher's feelings."
Yusheng pointed out the window at the pond. "Those Water Lilies over there sometimes transform into demons and at other times into deities."
"—All artists live between these two extremes."
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