Chapter 15: A Very Hazy Emotion
In mid-to-late May, the rainy season brought abundant rainfall.
Water is the lifeblood of the rainforest, nurturing its diverse array of creatures, while the rainforest, in turn, gives itself back to humanity without reservation.
At times like these, the water level of the Nanla River rises, and its flow seems to grow youthful again, always singing joyfully as it rushes forward. Wild fish abound in the river, and anglers can be seen everywhere along its banks.
The entire Nanla River winds sinuously, originating from the border between China and Laos, with nearly its whole basin nestled within the rainforest.
“Nanla” means “tea water” in the Dai language. Legend has it that when Shakyamuni came here to preach the scriptures, he saw the basin parched and the land barren, so he scattered the tea from his alms bowl onto the earth, transforming it into this river.
Manle Village has established an RV campground and a rafting resort at a semicircular bend along the Nanla River. This site also serves as the village’s primary source of operational revenue.
The year Liang Youyun first arrived, she experienced rafting on the Nanla River. Holding a paddle, she glided across the river into the depths of the rainforest. The surroundings seemed to fall silent; only the sound of wind, flowing water, bird calls, and elephant trumpets could be heard.
Having spent many years in big cities, she rarely traveled for leisure. Her few trips were strictly business-related, all located in the north near Beijing, where the urban landscapes were largely indistinguishable. But here was entirely different. It was her first time witnessing nature so lush and magnificent, stretching endlessly with perpetual vitality. She felt how insignificant individual life truly is, destined eventually to turn into a handful of ash or a speck of dust in the natural world, forgotten as if it had never existed.
At that moment, she suddenly felt that living a mediocre and ordinary life within the cubicles of skyscrapers in a metropolis was shameful. Yet this thought vanished as quickly as it had appeared. After all, she was human; she needed not only a favorable living environment but also a decent job, an income sufficient for food and clothing, and a cultural atmosphere with which she could resonate. Returning to nature and secluding oneself in the countryside was merely an ethereal, elusive ideal cherished by urban dwellers.
But the Nanla River Camp gave her hope. Surrounded by rainforest, this land has been developed to host hotels and homestays, accommodating various music concerts and outdoor scientific expeditions for students. Here, humanity and nature, nature and culture, find reconciliation amid conflict and coexist through conservation.
Since her village assignment was nearing its end, Village Head Yan Wenkan hadn’t assigned her many tasks, merely suggesting she spend these remaining days exploring Xishuangbanna.
After receiving the subsidy funds, Village Head Yan Wenkan and several village committee members repaired the hiking trails near the rainforest, hired personnel to implement relevant safety measures, and arranged for local media coverage, thereby providing a proper account of the previous incident.
“However, matters like this ultimately depend on people’s self-discipline,” Village Head Yan Wenkan said while smoking his pipe and pruning branches in the village committee courtyard. “If someone lacks self-discipline and insists on adventuring, no one can stop them! And when accidents happen, we’re the ones who get blamed!”
Liang Youyun was also troubled by this, but after considerable thought, she proposed a solution: “Perhaps we could establish a Rainforest Guardian Team, with party members taking the lead and villagers participating. We could organize regular activities and promotional campaigns. For tourists intending to explore, we could offer complimentary guide services. What do you think?”
Chief Yan Wenkan paused with the scissors in his hand, did a quick mental calculation, and exclaimed, “That’s right! I think it’ll work!”
Turning to Youyun with a smile, he added, “Now we have a solid reason to keep applying for subsidies from above! With such a clever mind like yours, Ah Yun, you’re far too talented for Manle Village!”
Well, it seemed the chief always thought several steps ahead.
“Uncle, what clever mind?” Youyun laughed self-deprecatingly. “I only started developing one after coming to Manle Village!”
She hadn’t forgotten for a moment how she had left Beijing back then. Her straightforward nature, lacking any tact or flexibility, must have struck Jiang Muhe as utterly childish and immature.
Hey? What’s that got to do with him!
Now that things had settled down, Liang Youyun only needed to attend weekly meetings, give presentations, and host live-streaming sales sessions; nothing else demanded her attention. These days, her main focus was the music festival at the RV campsite.
The concert was organized by faculty from Yunnan University’s Music Department, featuring two moderately famous alumni singers. Radio media and fans were expected to attend. The stage was set along the riverbank, very close to the RV lodge, right next to the riverside bar, part of which extended outdoors, allowing diners to enjoy drinks while taking in the scenery.
Youyun greatly enjoyed this atmosphere; the music here was never too loud, featuring mostly gentle and cheerful folk songs, along with Dai-language tracks and covers of popular music from Southeast Asian countries like Thailand and Laos.
In the afternoon, after experiencing rafting with Yuxiang and Xiao Sun, Youyun returned home to rest briefly before changing into a black chiffon dress to attend the concert, where she was also scheduled to deliver a speech on stage.
Xiao Sun drove, carrying Youyun, Yuxiang, and Zhang He.
Xiao Sun’s real name was Sun Guanchao, a quintessential young man from northern China. His parents ran a jade business in Yunnan, and he was currently preparing for the second-half graduate entrance examination, aiming to enroll in the Institute of Ethnic Studies at Yunnan University. He frequently interacted with Yuxiang, affectionately calling her “Sister” as he followed her around, asking all sorts of questions. Moreover, due to his fieldwork, he had developed close relationships with the elderly Dai people in the village, who treated him like their own grandson.
The sky was still bright, yet the stage had already been set up and the lighting was being tested.
After meeting with the person in charge and reviewing the schedule, Liang Youyun took a solitary walk along the riverbank, waiting for night to fall.
She paused at a scenic overlook.
This place bears a striking resemblance to the village’s viewing platform, reminding her once again of that day when she dined with Jiang Muhe.
She knew clearly that Jiang Muhe was testing her—a man’s试探 toward a woman—and he had succeeded, because her heart had stirred.
Yet she rejected him unequivocally, doing something worthy of herself, and also worthy of him.
Sometimes she wondered: if it were someone else, not Jiang Muhe but another man, would her heart still flutter? Where did this fluttering come from? Was it his striking looks, his masculine charm, or the focused way he looked at her? Whenever she thought this far, her mind would grow confused.
She hoped that in the days ahead, they would not meet again. She feared that each encounter would throw her heart into disarray once more. Before she fell completely, she wished to stop while she still could, thereby minimizing the hurt.
Moreover, Jiang Muhe was perceptive enough; after that incident, he never contacted her again. He seemed to vanish from her WeChat message list. Youyun dared not scroll through their chat history. Although there weren’t many messages, she feared reminiscing, overthinking, and inevitably losing herself completely.
When her mind was in turmoil, she would go out for a walk. However, she avoided the road leading to Sister Yiying’s house, the path to the cold noodle shop, and the viewing platform. She also made a conscious effort to ignore the physic nut trees that were everywhere.
Restraint is often a telltale sign of trying to conceal something.
Yan Nuo arrived near dusk to deliver dinner.
Jiang Muhe slept on the second floor, while he sat at the courtyard bar munching on nuts. He noticed the ashtray on the bar overflowing with cigarette butts and the trash bin beneath his feet filled with crushed beer cans.
No one knew what had gotten into Jiang Muhe these past few days; he had switched to sleeping in the afternoons, claiming the morning birds kept waking him up and ruining his rest. He rarely cooked anymore either, saying he wasn’t hungry and could get by on just some fruit.
Yan Nuo couldn’t bear to watch any longer, so she asked her mother to prepare an extra portion of food whenever she cooked and deliver it to him.
There was one more thing: he had drastically intensified his workout routine. He spent his mornings cooped up in the second-floor gym, practically fused to the rowing machine, mechanically repeating motions. While his muscles grew increasingly solid, the light in his eyes dimmed, and he spoke less and less. It felt less like exercise and more like self-torture.
Yan Nuo didn’t dare to ask, yet feared something might have happened to him.
Just as anxiety gnawed at her, Jiang Muhe woke up and came downstairs. He wore only oversized shorts, slapping along in flip-flops, his bare torso revealing not an ounce of excess flesh. With a stern, expressionless face resembling that of a gang boss, he made Yan Nuo shiver involuntarily.
Still, Yan Nuo gathered her courage and asked, “Brother, you’re smoking so much; is something troubling your mind?”
Jiang Muhe sat down, picked up his chopsticks, ready to eat, and replied, “No.”
“So there is one!”
“Really, there isn’t.”
“That definitely means there is!”
Jiang Muhe closed his eyes, then opened them again, his gaze sharp with cold light. He set down his chopsticks, fixed Yan Nuo with a steady look, and said in a calm, unequivocal tone: “I said there isn’t any, so there isn’t any.”
Yan Nuo jumped to his feet, afraid Jiang might hit him, and hurried toward the house. “I get it now—that absolutely means there is, no conditions attached! Be honest, does this have something to do with a woman?”
Jiang Muhe felt utterly drained. He had no desire to argue.
“Brother, I have more experience than you; listen to me. Matters involving women are best resolved by women themselves. If you don’t go out and talk things through with her, staying home smoking and drinking will never solve anything!” Yan Nuo sounded like a love guru.
His words made sense, so Jiang Muhe abandoned the urge to punch him.
Propping his head up with both arms, he felt dizzy and disoriented—a terrible sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was as if half his internal organs had been scooped out, forcing the remaining ones to compensate for their functions, overloading his body and leaving him utterly exhausted. He had tried strengthening himself through exercise—running, rowing, push-ups—but nothing worked; that void in his heart remained perpetually unfilled.
He refused to think about her, refused to think about Liang Youyun.
He forced himself to accept that the entire matter had nothing to do with Liang Youyun, as if they had never met and their paths had never crossed.
His future was destined to be spent here, living a life of tranquility and peace; one sudden disruption could not change anything.
Whenever her image flashed through his mind or he vaguely heard her voice in his ears, he forced himself to shift his attention, refusing to let that shadow or that sound continue to haunt him.
He told himself this was merely a vague emotion, just simple fondness—not quite liking, far less love—so after a few days it would pass, and everything would be fine again.
Yet somehow, the flesh deep within his heart felt as though it had ulcerated, throbbing with a dull, persistent pain. Such wounds are best treated with external applications, but how could one apply a remedy externally? After all, he couldn’t possibly tear open his chest and expose his heart.
This feeling was worse than getting into a fight and suffering broken bones or bleeding—those he could treat himself. But internal injuries, he had to admit, were far harder to heal.
At first, he invited friends over for gatherings. They had long been eager to visit, so he prepared fine dishes and good wine, intending to drink until thoroughly drunk—a rare occurrence for him unless he was exceptionally happy.
His friends assumed some joyful event had befallen him and kept probing for details.
“Brother Mu, business going well lately? Why not bring your girlfriend over?” asked Dao Bo.
“Is Brother Mu getting married? Is this the bridal home?” added A Chun.
“Ah Mu’s place is perfect,” Mr. Chen said with a grin. “Sister-in-law, you can rest easy—no other women will be showing up here!”
..
Even when heavily drunk, Jiang Muhe retained his basic judgment; of course, he also knew these people were teasing him. Among this group of friends were some of Yan En’s acquaintances, but most were people he had met since arriving in Xishuangbanna. His criterion for making friends was simple: comfort in each other’s company. His selection process was straightforward too—friends must neither cause trouble nor fail to deliver when needed.
He was a smart man; after just a few interactions, he could discern anyone’s intentions and true character.
Frankly speaking, he understood Liang Youyun’s personality and comprehended why she had rejected him so directly.
But understanding was one thing; feeling hurt was another.
After dinner, the friends gathered in the courtyard to sing and dance. Most of them belonged to ethnic minorities—Hani, Dai, and Wa peoples—who were naturally gifted in music and dance, impossible to hold back once they started. To top it off, this group had even brought their own instruments: guitars, flutes, zhongruan lutes, and hand drums.
Jiang Muhe sank into the sofa, savoring the enchanting music. He tilted his head back to finish the last bottle of beer in his hand, then raised the empty bottle toward the distance, muttering to himself, “See that? I’ve got plenty of friends too, and I can drink just as much! You probably have no idea how sociable I really am…”
He smiled, a touch of self-mockery in his expression. What exactly was he trying to prove, and to whom? What purpose did it serve? Yet once someone becomes stubborn like this, they feel compelled to seek some kind of resolution.
After the meal, seeing that he was in a relatively normal state, Yan Nuo took out his phone and began the lesson.
“Yesterday’s personality test—do you still remember your personality type?”
“Yes, INTJ.”
“We won’t talk about the strengths then; what are the weaknesses?” Yan Nuo asked, mimicking a serious demeanor.
Muhe sighed, “Not good at expressing emotions, somewhat of a perfectionist.”
“Exactly! That’s the problem. Don’t keep everything bottled up inside; be brave and confess your feelings!”
Muhe shot him a glare. What good would confessing do? Every time he tried to take a step forward, he got pushed back, rejected clearly and unequivocally.
“And then…” Yan Nuo scrolled through his phone, “You know what ‘YYDS’ and ‘Jue Jue Zi’ mean, right?”
“Hmm, I know.”
“Then there’s no need to review that again. What about these terms: ‘social death,’ ‘how ruthless,’ and ‘activity partner’?”
“I know them; their meanings are obvious from the characters themselves, okay?” Muhe showed impatience. Could this fool teach something more challenging?
“Stay calm while learning!”
After being criticized by Yan Nuo, he finally had the chance to showcase his talents in front of his elder brother. Feeling quite pleased with himself, he said, “This trending phrase is new and challenging: ‘Love your old self.’ It simply means loving yourself.”
Muhe couldn’t bear it any longer and tried to shoo Yan Nuo away, but Yan Nuo protested loudly, “If you keep being so fierce, I’m going to break down!”
“Damn it, I’m about to break down too!”
“Do you even know what ‘break down’ means? I never taught you that!”
“I taught myself, damn it!”
“Is that for real?” Yan Nuo, sensing something amiss, quickly grabbed his phone and made a swift exit.
Just as Muhe was about to chase after him, his phone rang. It was Feng Duo, a former comrade-in-arms from his special forces unit. Previously stationed at the front lines of the special operations brigade, Feng had been reassigned to border defense over the past two years and was now visiting Mengla during his leave.
They had remained in contact, with Feng Duo serving as Jiang Muhe’s liaison.
“Where are you staying now?” Muhe asked.
“At the RV campground, just me. Come find me, Brother Mu; I have something to discuss.”
An RV campground… a place not far from her.
Jiang Muhe suddenly perked up. He went upstairs to shave and wash his face, changed into fresh, crisp clothes, quickly got ready, then headed down to the garage to get his car.
Suddenly remembering that he might need to accompany Feng Duo for drinks, he put away his car keys, turned to lock the door, and left the courtyard.