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墨書 Inktalez
In June in the north, it unfolds like a vibrant painting across the land, with everything flourishing and growing vigorously.
The sunlight pours down like a golden waterfall, abundant and fervent. Occasionally, the leaves seem to be gently stirred by an invisible hand, swaying slightly as a breeze flows through, soft as a feather, lightly brushing against people's cheeks, bringing smiles to their faces.
The afternoon world feels as if the mute button has been pressed, tranquil like a paradise. People hide in corners, savoring this moment of peace, like pearls scattered in a corner, exuding a lazy and comfortable aura.
Even the mischievous cats and dogs seem to be affected by this serene atmosphere, lying in the shade with their eyes sweetly closed, resembling babies lost in beautiful dreams, carefree and untroubled.
Yet I find myself in this mirror-like quiet world, my heart roaring like a stormy sea about to surge. I curl up in the corner of my bed like an injured little beast, staring wide-eyed at a corner of the ceiling, my gaze hollow and helpless.
Tears flow uncontrollably, rushing out like floodwaters breaching a dam, wetting my cheeks and soaking the corner of my heart that feels lost.
That A4 paper filled with names, that A4 paper filled with various scores, that A4 paper filled with University names lies mercilessly before me. They are so stingy that they cannot accommodate my name. My name consists of just two characters and twenty strokes, yet at this moment, it feels like the most unacceptable existence in the world.
Those three years of effort feel like a castle I painstakingly built; each brick represents my hard work day and night. Yet finally, this afternoon, that castle collapses with a thunderous crash into streams of tears, furrowing my cheeks with bitterness.
I rest my arms on the warm red bricks of the windowsill, warmed by the sun. That warmth flows in like a gentle stream, quietly soothing my cold skin. But how can this slight warmth dispel the chill within me?
I look up at the outside world; the dark green trees stand there lifelessly like dried seaweed from a thousand years ago. That dark green seems to embody the sorrow accumulated over time; the pale blue sky carries hints of gray, resembling a dirty canvas devoid of vitality; and the sun merely casts patches of heat without conveying its warmth or revealing where it hangs—much like my current uncertain future that appears bright yet remains out of reach.
Yes, I have failed to get accepted. While everyone held high hopes for me and I worked tirelessly like an unflagging top, I still fell short.
This afternoon, no one knows that in this seemingly calm world sits a girl alone by the window, like an abandoned orphan weeping freely while her thoughts drift into emptiness.
Disappointment and despair are like two ferocious beasts opening their gaping jaws, ruthlessly eroding every cell within me. Each breath feels sharp as it pierces my heart; each heartbeat resonates like heavy drumbeats striking against my fragile soul.
An afternoon, just a few hours, felt as long as a decade. Every minute flowed slowly and painfully, like an elongated thread. The setting sun burned like a flame, gradually painting the small courtyard red.
Mom gently knocked on the door, her voice like a heavenly melody breaking the silence in this oppressive space: "Dear, how about I make you some Handmade Noodles?"
Her voice was as soft as a spring Breeze, yet powerful enough to penetrate the heavy darkness, cutting through the dense air and reaching my eardrum.
This simple sentence was like a key that unlocked the door deep within me, filled with grievances and fragility. Tears fell once again like beads from a broken string. All my veins felt like vines that had lost their support, limp and lifeless.
One day, two days... Time flowed slowly like water. As the sun rose and set repeatedly, I still struggled to get up, open my eyes, and make choices.
Yes, there was an unwillingness deep in my bones, like a climber who is about to reach the summit but slips and falls, with a burning desire for the peak in their heart; there was also a reluctance to let three years of effort go to waste, much like a farmer who cannot bear to see his hard work yield nothing.
Eating the Handmade Noodles made by Mom felt as if they contained all her love and encouragement; each bite brought warmth and strength.
I wiped away the tears at the corners of my eyes, like folding up a tattered flag and hiding a humble heart, ready to regroup and move forward.
I thought I couldn't get through it, as if I were stuck in a swamp—struggling only made me sink deeper. After painful struggles, I realized that no one could replace me in facing all of this; ultimately, I had to bear it alone.
It was like groping through a dark tunnel alone—no helping hand, no companionship—only relying on my own strength to find an exit.
As I grew up and experienced more things, thinking back to that June afternoon made me smile involuntarily; I realized how fragile and small I had been then!
The mountains and rivers I thought I could never cross were like the towering trees I believed were insurmountable in my childhood. In the end, it was only me who had to bear it all alone.
Of course, it will eventually pass, becoming a unique treasure in the passage of time, just like a pearl wrapped in the years. Although it carries past pains, it radiates a unique brilliance.
Such endurance can manifest as regret, like a child who has done wrong, silently blaming themselves in the dead of night; it can be glory, akin to an athlete who struggles alone on the field and enjoys the honor of victory after winning; or it can be unbearable...
Regardless of which, it will nourish life’s wonders like spring rain moistening the earth, subtly fostering growth.
The more difficult the situation, the more one must cultivate their heart. Living means encountering many obstacles and setbacks, tumultuous waves.
Just as a Navigator is bound to face storms on the vast sea, an explorer will inevitably confront dangers in deep mountains and forests.
It is in such moments that one can evoke what lies deep within their bones, like the green hidden within an old tree trunk—resilient yet full of vitality. Just like Wintersweet blooming alone in the icy cold of winter, that touch of vibrant red is a testament to dedication and perseverance in life.
This is the best cultivation of one's character.
A person can only stand firm through trials; just as a sword must undergo countless forges to cut through iron like mud. A person can only find stability amidst chaos; in the clamor of the world, only inner peace can help one maintain their true self.
In times of hardship and difficulty, often one must bear it alone; this kind of tempering is like Aged Wine—precious with time, rich and fragrant.
Life is long. Some things and some people cannot be let go or forgotten; then silently endure—that is a form of practice. And this practice is a lifelong endeavor; it cannot be rushed. Take it slowly, like a Snail carrying its heavy shell, moving step by step toward its goal. Though slow, each step is taken with determination and strength.
All solitary burdens will eventually bloom at some moment, like flowers releasing their fragrance. That fragrance will permeate the river of life, becoming the most unique scenery.
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