I am called Liuli, the name she gave me.
I was born in the Liuli Lantern, watching her grow from a shy, awkward girl into a graceful and beautiful young woman.
She liked to hold me and sit under the tree in a daze. She seemed to love talking, chattering from when the sun was high in the sky until only its last sliver dipped below the horizon.
That day, as usual, she cradled me in her hands and lifted me toward the sun, praising me. “So pretty.”
I felt myself floating on air. Only later did I learn that was what happiness felt like.
She carried me everywhere all day long, and from others’ mouths, I learned her name: Yun Chu. I thought it sounded lovely.
Yun Chu had a master, a man in his thirties who taught her mystical arts and spells. But his gaze made me uncomfortable. Whenever Yun Chu wasn’t looking, he would stare at me intently.
I didn’t like him.
Unfortunately, Yun Chu couldn’t hear me. I grew increasingly desperate to leave the Liuli Lantern. I wanted to talk to her, to make her smile at me.
Perhaps my longing was too intense. On a cool spring night, I lay beside Yun Chu.
I turned my head to gaze at her sleeping face and couldn’t resist reaching out to tap the tip of her nose. Yun Chu wrinkled her nose and stretched out her arms to hug me.
I froze, my mind bubbling with delight. She was so adorable.
I stared at her like that all night, and she held me all night. It felt far more comfortable than when she merely cradled me.
When Yun Chu woke and opened her eyes, I was too excited to speak—but
“Ah!!!!!”
Yun Chu screamed and kicked me off the bed. Then she ran away.
I felt shattered into pieces, beans of water spilling from my eyes.
When Yun Chu returned, the man trailed behind her. He seemed astonished at the sight of me. “Yun Chu, your Liuli Lantern has birthed a spirit.”
A spirit?
“A spirit?” Yun Chu was just as puzzled.
The man explained at length, and Yun Chu realized I was the Liuli Lantern that had always been by her side.
She walked over, bent down, and looked at me sitting on the floor, shedding those water beans. She reached out and wiped them away. “Why are you crying?”
Crying?
So that’s what it meant when water beans fell from your eyes.
I couldn’t hold back. I threw myself into Yun Chu’s arms and wailed loudly, blaming her for kicking me off the bed, for not recognizing me.
Because of that, Yun Chu started calling me Little Crybaby at first. When I protested, she thought for a moment, her eyes curving into smiles. “How about I call you Liuli from now on? Liuli is crystal clear and perfect for a beauty. It suits you.”
I loved the name Liuli. It sounded especially beautiful when Yun Chu said it.
Yun Chu was the same as before, taking me to sit under that tree. She would lean against me and tell me amusing village stories or tales she’d heard from elsewhere.
I thought we would go on like this forever. Until one day, Yun Chu seemed off. Her cheeks flushed red as she took my hand. “Liuli, do you like me?”
“I like you.” Of course I liked Yun Chu.
Yun Chu didn’t seem satisfied. She leaned in close and pressed her lips to mine. She was terribly nervous; I could feel her trembling.
“What does it feel like?” she asked.
“No feeling.”
Yun Chu left. After I said I felt nothing, she never came back.
I waited for her at home, from one tomorrow to the next, but Yun Chu never returned.
My body grew weaker and weaker. I wanted to see Yun Chu.
I ventured out once to find her. I went to that man surnamed Wu’s house and saw Yun Chu there. She had been drinking. “I don’t want to see Liuli anymore,” she said.
She didn’t want to see me.
For some reason, hearing those words made me feel like I was shattering all over again. Yun Chu had once said that was heartbreak. I was heartbroken, heartbroken enough to shatter.
I wanted so badly to see Yun Chu, to hold her and cry. She could call me a crybaby if she wanted, but she refused to see me.
I returned home and sat in the chair facing the door, frozen in the pose she’d left me in. The Liuli Lantern sat on the table.
My body grew weaker still. Yun Chu hadn’t returned. Outside, the sky brightened and darkened, darkened and brightened again. I lost track of how many cycles passed.
The final time, I mustered my courage to go find Yun Chu. I gripped the table and stood, my legs trembling and weak.
Creak—
The door opened. I looked up. A figure stood there, backlit. I knew it was Yun Chu.
I collapsed. Before losing consciousness, I heard the clear, crisp sound of the Liuli Lantern hitting the floor.
The Liuli Lantern shattered—and with it, so did I.
Dazed and adrift amid the broken shards of the Liuli Lantern, I vaguely heard Yun Chu’s voice, along with another woman’s.
That woman said, “Yun Chu, it’s me, Liuli.”
I struggled to rouse myself and saw a woman who looked exactly like me standing before Yun Chu.
“Yun Chu! Yun Chu! She’s not me—don’t believe her!”
Yun Chu couldn’t hear. She had been drugged with the woman’s bewitching incense. She believed her.
That wicked woman had swapped the Liuli Lantern. She took me away.
She brought me to a pitch-black place and handed me over to her master.
She had approached Yun Chu on purpose because I was prime material for her master to cultivate.
The Liuli Lantern had smashed to pieces, and I felt a tremendous tearing force. I thought I would never see Yun Chu again.
I didn’t know how long my consciousness slumbered. In my haze, I heard the voice of the man surnamed Wu.
“I’d planned to keep a piece for myself so Yun Chu could never fully repair you. Who knew this twist of fate would save you instead.”
That man surnamed Wu had secretly kept a fragment of the Liuli Lantern. My remnant spirit clung to it.
“I know you can hear me. It’s a pity the lantern isn’t whole—you’re still a broken body.”
“Yun Chu won’t see you, and you won’t see Yun Chu.”
“I’m a petty man at heart. I know spirits need someone to teach them, but I just couldn’t bear to see you two all lovey-dovey, so I never told her about matters of the heart. She’d have to teach you slowly. She liked you so much she couldn’t hold back anymore and boldly confessed her love. Too bad you didn’t understand love back then.”
“Do you understand now?”
My remnant spirit quivered. Yun Chu loves me…
Later, Wu Yizhi swapped my fragment with the fake Liuli Lantern in Yun Chu’s hands. I could be by her side again. But she didn’t know.
I watched her grow thinner and more gaunt, blindly following Wu Yizhi’s words into dark deeds. I couldn’t stop her. Once again, I felt myself on the verge of shattering.
Every night, Yun Chu sat at the entrance of the Mountain God Temple, cradling the shattered Liuli Lantern and murmuring softly. She apologized, called my name, wept…
In Yun Chu’s endless nights of self-reproach and longing, I finally understood what love was.
My heart ached. I regretted. I loved Yun Chu.
