Mud beads

On the third day after the New Year, Teacher Zhang rushed back to school.

She boarded the first bus from the county early in the morning, carrying two bags of fruit and cooked food that her husband had insisted on giving her. Yu Zhu was sweeping up the red paper left over from firecrackers on the playground when she saw her walking briskly along the snowy path in the distance and couldn't help but frown.

"Didn't we tell you to stay a few more days?"

"I can't get used to living here." Teacher Zhang put down her luggage and went to the dormitory to check if the three children were missing any limbs. "The heating at home is too hot, and I can't hear any wind at night. I don't feel at ease."

She spoke with such conviction, as if that drafty, smoke-filled dormitory was her real home.

On the afternoon of the day Teacher Zhang returned, Yu Zhu took Liang Xia to the bus station in town.

The two people took a bus into town and went down the mountain. It was still before the New Year, and occasionally red paper scattered by the wind could be seen by the roadside. Under the snow, black soil was exposed, and the wheels of the bus kicked up a cloud of muddy snow water.

The town's train station wasn't crowded. Bags, suitcases, and cardboard boxes were piled at his feet, and announcements of delays played repeatedly over the loudspeaker. Liang Xia sat on his luggage, studied the fastest transfer route for a while, and then looked up.

"And you?"

Yu Zhu stood in front of her: "What?"

"Stop pretending." Liang Xia glanced at her. "When are you planning to go back to Chang'an?"

Yu Zhu did not answer immediately.

Outside the waiting room, a train slowly pulled into the platform, blowing the loose snow on the ground into swirling motions. She looked out through the glass into the distance; winter fog clung to the mountainside, and behind the fog, the mountains were faintly turning green, with only the snow-capped peaks remaining.

My leave of absence is almost over.

"so what?"

Yu Zhu looked away and smiled.

"Then let's wait for spring."

Liang Xia frowned: "Spring comes every year, which one are you talking about?"

Yu Zhu glanced at the train timetable and patted Liang Xia on the shoulder.

"When the snow melts, the grass will grow."

The announcement began urging passengers to show their tickets. Liang Xia stood up, pulled her suitcase, took two steps, then turned back, a hint of tears welling in her eyes.

Yu Zhu stood outside the crowd, tiptoed, and waved to her high.

Moth

After Liang Xia left, spring gradually arrived.

The wind was no longer fierce; as it blew across the mountain pass, it brought the slightly fishy smell of thawing permafrost. The midday sun began to warm, and the snow on the eaves started to melt from the edges, with water droplets falling one after another onto the stone steps, mingling with a chilly spring rain.

The green foliage at the foot of the mountain climbed up to the mountainside, wild grass in the cracks of the rocks pushed aside the withered leaves, and the river surface cracked silently one night. The next morning, children gathered on the bank to watch the ice shards being pushed and collided by the flowing water, drifting downstream with a clattering sound.

The classroom was still noisy, and Xu Ran, while doing subtraction, didn't forget to step back. Yu Zhu gave the boy in the last row who always drew turtles in his textbook a Miyazaki Hayao picture book, and in return, he started filling up every exam paper with his work.

Yu Zhu's once empty phone began to be filled with fragments of her life.

A drafty classroom, a red-hot iron stove, children pressing their faces against the window frame, drawing on the frosted glass with their fingers, and two little figures that Xu Ran had pasted onto the window frame with glue, whose edges were later blown up by the wind.

One night, Yu Zhu edited these scattered images together and wrote an article about the people and events she had seen at the village primary school that year. She then posted it on her video account, which had been dormant for many years.

She was good at writing about suffering when she was a child, and she's even better at it now.

She wrote about how twenty-three desks were crammed into a drafty classroom, how an iron stove couldn't warm the last two rows, and how Teacher Zhang had stayed there for twelve years.

When she checked her phone again the next morning, there were so many messages that she could barely see them all. The video had been forwarded to many places overnight. Strangers were asking for the school's address in the comments, some wanted to send books, some wanted to send winter clothes, and some even contacted the county's education department directly to ask how much money was needed for the new school building. Others, to avoid the hassle, simply transferred money to Yu Zhu's account.

The school received many things one after another.

Since delivery trucks couldn't get into the mountains, the cardboard boxes were piled up at the town's collection point, and then villagers would haul them back one trip at a time by tricycle. For several days in a row, the playground was filled with the sound of tape being removed, children running around the cardboard boxes, and Teacher Zhang chasing after them with a register, shouting that anyone who took them again would have their name written on the blackboard.

More donations were deposited into a special account set up by the county for the school. The renovation application that had been sitting in the filing cabinet for many years was unearthed again, and the county's special funds, social donations, and corporate sponsorships gradually filled the gap.

Shortly after the start of spring, education officials went into the mountains to measure the site, and the construction plan for the new teaching building was finally finalized.

The day the drawings were delivered to the school, Ms. Zhang sat in her office for a long time, examining them. She reached out and touched the straight lines drawn with a ruler, and finally took off her glasses and wiped the lenses with her sleeve.

Yu Zhu didn't say anything, but simply placed the freshly brewed hot tea beside her.

That night, she also wrote her resignation letter.

The letter wasn't long. She said her leave of absence was coming to an end, and it was time to go back and pursue her own path. She also said that she would come back to see them during winter and summer vacations, as long as time allowed. At the end, she paused, thought for a moment, and added one more sentence at the very end of the page:

This is the best school I've ever attended.

Moth

The groundbreaking ceremony for the new teaching building was scheduled for a sunny spring afternoon.

The school suspended classes for half a day, as representatives from the county, education department, donating companies, and social philanthropists were all required to attend. Just as dawn broke, several interview vehicles drove in along the mountain road. Reporters carrying cameras crowded the playground, while staff busied themselves hanging banners and setting up tables and chairs. Even the yellow dog that usually stayed tied up outside the courtyard wall was frightened by the commotion and hid in the woodshed.

Teacher Chen squeezed through the crowd carrying a stack of newly issued school uniforms, and couldn't help but roll her eyes as she looked at the people coming and going on the playground.

"Making such a big fuss, even when the school was leaking like that before, no one came."

Teacher Zhang was greeting people at the school gate when he heard this. He looked up at the cameras and banners, then looked down and smiled.

"This thing is judged by actions, not intentions."

She dusted off her speech and stood up.

"People come, money stays, buildings are built—that's better than anything else."

After lunch, Teacher Zhang received a phone call.

A child living at the foot of the mountain had not been picked up yet. Her grandmother had twisted her leg when she went out that morning and had been helped home by a neighbor to lie down. The child's parents were still out of town, and they couldn't find anyone at home who could come up the mountain.

Before the afternoon ceremony even started, the playground was already packed with reporters and staff. Teacher Zhang was busy checking the guest list, Teacher Chen was pulled away to help the children change into new school uniforms, so Yu Zhu carried the child's schoolbag and led him down the mountain.

The snow has mostly melted.

A few patches of grayish-white snow remained in the shady area, damp from the sun. Melted snow water flowed down the cracks in the rocks, making the mountain path soft and muddy. The child wore a pair of ill-fitting rubber shoes, and Yu Zhu led him carefully along the way.

New shoots have already sprouted beneath the withered grass by the roadside, a thin, almost invisible layer. A southerly wind blows through the greening mountains and fields, carrying the scent of unknown wildflowers just awakening.

As we reached the halfway point up the mountain, a cacophony of voices suddenly came from below.

A group of people were walking uphill along the mountain path. Reporters carried cameras, staff members held documents, and several microphones with different logos were squeezed in front of the crowd. The mountain path was already narrow, and now they occupied most of it. Yu Zhu quickly took her child's hand and moved to the side of the path, pulling him behind her.

The crowd gradually approached.

Someone asked a question, and everyone around laughed. The sound of camera shutters clicked softly in the spring breeze, and several shadows passed by Yu Zhu. She hadn't paid any attention until a pair of shoes stopped a short distance away.

Yu Zhu raised her head.

Toru Echizen stood in the center of the crowd.

He was wearing a dark overcoat, his shoulders bathed in bright sunlight. People around him were still talking, and reporters' microphones were still held in front of him, but his gaze, across the mountain path and the crowd, fixed on her.

The mountain breeze ruffled the scarf around the girl's neck and tousled her long hair. She was a bit tanned, and her cheeks were no longer as delicate as before, but her eyes remained as dark and bright as ever.

Yu Zhu stood under the clear blue sky, on a high hillside, with the snow-covered mountains and fields behind her.

The world is vast, yet she did not avoid his gaze; a smile slowly appeared in her eyes.

Tetsuya Echima laughed.

Above, wild geese fly north.

Springtime is in full bloom.

Moth

-over-

2026年8月5日0：30

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[Acknowledgments upon completion]

Moth

Those who go can not be remonstrated, and those who come can still be chased.

Yu Zhu fulfilled Liang Dong's unfinished dream, while Liang Dong's words about staying in the past guided Yu Zhu to let go of the past.

She took the initiative to go into the mountains, and finally achieved a true sense of leaving the mountains.

On their way down the mountain, they encountered Echizen Toru, who was going up the mountain.

Their story begins on a mountain, and it will begin anew on another mountain.

Moth

When I was writing the book, I was in great pain because of the many controversies that arose in the middle and later parts.

During that time, I even forgot my original intention for writing—that as long as there is one person willing to read what you have written, you should finish writing it seriously.

Fortunately, as the story continued, and with the encouragement of readers time and time again, my mood, along with Yu Zhu's, gradually shifted from turmoil to calm.

I'm so glad that I stuck to my original idea and wrote down the story in my mind in its entirety.

In a sense, Yu Zhu not only redeemed Echizen Toru, but also redeemed me.

As for how to understand and evaluate the characters in the story, I think that should be left to each reader.

Humans are complex beings. We have different experiences and understand love, hurt, forgiveness, and choices in different ways.

When I first conceived the idea for Toru Eshima, I didn't intend to "whitewash" him. But as the story progressed, I gradually felt that the character seemed to have truly grown into his own flesh and blood.

When I wrote about the confession on the mudflats, the line I originally envisioned for him was: "Can we start over?" But as I was about to put down the last stroke, I suddenly felt that what he really wanted to say at that moment was: I love you.

After saving the chapter, I discovered that it ended at number ninety-nine. It seemed as if everything was preordained.

Such coincidences are countless.

In the early hours of August 5th, I finished writing the last chapter. In the story, winter had passed, the ice and snow had melted, and spring had arrived. Just then, "By the Lake Baikal" was playing randomly from the speakers next to my computer.

Speaking of music, readers also recommended many great songs to me in the comments section. "Pearl and Jade" and "When Love Has Become the Past" have both inspired me at different stages of my life. When writing the storyline about Yu Zhu going to Shanhaiguan, I also listened to "Northeast Folk Song" many times.

Music, words, and art can always connect people who were originally strangers.

Moth

Also, I would like to thank my friends Qian Shi, Tian Shi, and Xuxu. They have been giving me encouragement since the very first chapter.

In some ways, I am luckier than Yu Zhu to have so many readers I've never met witnessing the completion of "Mud Pearl".

Finally, I would like to quote Professor Zhou Guoping once again:

"I will always be confused, and I will always search. Confusion is my honesty, and searching is my courage."

Let us encourage each other.