''Huang Yifan, help me!''
Just a few days of peace had gone by when, unexpectedly, Yu Bin came running to Huang Yifan again.
"Yu Bin, are you being hunted down by enemies, or did someone kidnap your dad? Why are you yelling for help like that?"
Seeing Yu Bin buttering him up once again, Huang Yifan teased.
"This is worse than my dad getting kidnapped!"
Yu Bin ignored the teasing, tugged gently at Huang Yifan's sleeve, and whispered, "Bro, bad news. Li Luozhi's not interested in my love letters anymore."
"Huh?"
Huang Yifan blinked. "How come?"
"It's true, bro. A couple of days ago, she was still kind of into it. When she got my thousand-character love letter, even though she didn't say anything, she still read it with interest. But yesterday and today, the ones I slipped to her, she only glanced at them and didn't even bother finishing. She hasn't torn them up yet, but from the looks of it, that's coming soon."
"Getting a bit tsundere, huh? But hey, there's still hope. It's probably because you've been writing one love letter a day, no creativity at all. At first, it might have seemed fresh and cute, but reading the same mushy stuff every day gets old fast. Here's an idea: instead of writing daily, take a whole week to carefully craft one love letter and give her that."
"Bro, you're a genius! That's exactly what I was thinking."
Yu Bin gave a big thumbs up, laying it on thick again.
"Then what'd you come to me for? Go write it already."
"Well… that's the thing… bro, don't go yet, I'm not done. I thought of the plan, yeah. But the problem is… I'm not good at this stuff. Writing has always been my weak point, and Li Luozhi's got really high standards. Even if I spend a week, I probably can't come up with anything decent."
"So?"
"So I was hoping you could help me out and write one for me."
"Come on, seriously?"
Huang Yifan was on the verge of tears. "Yu Bin, do I look like a professional love letter writer to you?"
"Not exactly, but bro, you're wise, brilliant, unmatched…"
"Can you at least switch it up with some new adjectives?"
"I would if I knew any more."
Yu Bin was practically about to grab Huang Yifan's leg and beg. "See, I don't even have enough vocabulary to compliment you properly. How do you expect me to write a love letter?"
"I can't write one either."
"Bro, don't lie to me."
"I never lie."
"Damn it, keep this up, and you're gonna get struck by lightning."
"Then let it strike, I'm not writing it."
"Alright… fine…"
Seeing that Huang Yifan was dead set on refusing, Yu Bin's eyes suddenly lit up. "Actually, bro, it's fine if you don't help me write. But if you don't, Li Luozhi might come bother you again to compete in test scores. I heard she told her bestie Xie Luyao that she's determined to beat you before the high school entrance exams. And bro, I know you're on another level, totally out of our league. It's better to let me handle these little drama queens, don't you think?"
As he spoke, Yu Bin enthusiastically patted the dust off Huang Yifan's clothes.
"'Damn, this guy's actually smart for once.'"
Cursing Yu Bin's shamelessness in his heart, Huang Yifan still found the idea of dealing with Li Luozhi too much of a hassle. So he reluctantly said, "Alright, alright, I'll write one for you, but only one. If it doesn't work out, don't come crying to me again."
"I swear, I promise!"
Ignoring Yu Bin's solemn oath, Huang Yifan returned to his seat, picked up his pen, and started writing immediately.
'A Blossoming Tree'
Huang Yifan was planning to write a poem, more precisely, a love poem.
Yes, what could be more powerful than a love poem?
Chances are, any girl who received a love poem would fall for it instantly.
Why? Because poetry carries an unmatched sense of class.
In his mind, Huang Yifan held a mental library of thousands of love poems.
'"If love between two hearts can last for long, does it matter they're not together every dawn and dusk?"
"Golden wind and jade dew meet just once, but it surpasses countless moments in this world."
"When shall we meet again, you and I? On a night like this, emotions run high."
These were all classic love poems that had been passed down for millennia.
And yet, Huang Yifan chose to reject them all.
As elegant as these poems were, they were still ancient verse. And while classical poetry was still widely celebrated in Huaguo, it just didn't quite fit with modern society. Of course, that didn't mean using them was out of the question. Quoting a famous line might still impress someone like Li Luozhi. But in the end, Huang Yifan decided on something more fitting for the moment, a modern poem.
''How can I make you meet me
In the most beautiful moment of my life?''
''For this
I have prayed before the Buddha for five hundred years
Begging him to let us form a fleeting bond.''
''So the Buddha turned me into a tree
Planted by the roadside where you must pass
And in the sunlight, I blossomed solemnly.''
''Every flower
Was a hope from my past life.''
Unlike Tang and Song poetry, modern poetry has no strict form, no rules of rhyme or rhythm; its structure is fluid. And because this kind of freedom embodies the unique spirit of the modern age, even though modern poetry doesn't hold the same influence in this era, it still holds a meaningful place in Huaguo's literary world. Especially for artsy, romantic girls, it's deadly.
…
"Hello, Strange Tales fan, please add me as a friend."
The school day flew by. After getting home, Huang Yifan sent the 'Temple Ghost' he had written earlier to Liangcha, the editor of Midnight Talk.
Just then, TT messenger pinged again with a new friend request.
"Strange Tales fan?"
Huang Yifan didn't expect he'd already gained some fans from the magazine. He clicked accept with a smile.
"Hello, are you Fanchen? Your 'Strange Tales' series is amazing, I really love it."
The message came from someone with the username "Ink."
"Thanks for the support."
Huang Yifan had always taken his readers seriously. Just like on Lingdian's book review forum, he read nearly every message. Even if he didn't have time that day, he would catch up after class and reply to some posts. To him, readers were the ones who fed him. Taking them seriously was the least he could do.
"Haha, Fanchen, keep it up! I've read your 'Biting a Ghost', 'Corpse Mutation', and 'Carrying a Corpse'. Oh, and 'Ear Dweller' too, that one had a lot of depth. I love how it used horror elements to convey meaning. Very thought-provoking. I think stories like 'Ear Dweller' have great potential. If they get promoted properly, they could really cause a stir."
"Thanks."
Huang Yifan replied gratefully. "I agree. 'Ear Dweller' does carry certain ideas, and I plan to write more stories in that vein in the future."
"Really? Fanchen, you've written many more like 'Ear Dweller'?"
"Not written down yet, but they're already formed in my mind. I could turn them into words anytime. I'm sure in the next few issues of Midnight Talk, you'll start seeing them."
"That's awesome. We readers are in for a treat."
The other person sent an excited emoji, then, after a pause, added, "Fanchen, I actually didn't buy Midnight Talk. I only saw a friend reading it, and someone recommended your 'Strange Tales', so I checked it out. And I loved it. But to be honest, I'm a bit confused. From what I've heard, Midnight Talk has really low circulation. Isn't it a bit of a waste to publish your work there? Have you thought about submitting to a bigger magazine, like Suspense World or something? Their reach is way wider. I'm sure if your work appeared in Suspense World, way more readers would notice you. You might even get recognition from the Huaguo Writers' Association."
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Glossary
A Blossoming Tree "一棵开花的树" is a modern Chinese poem written by Xi Murong (席慕蓉), a renowned poet and painter of Mongolian descent, born in 1943. The poem was first published in the 1980s, during the rise of modernist and romantic poetry in Taiwan and mainland China. Xi Murong's work is characterized by its lyrical tone, emotional depth, and themes of love, longing, and fate. A Blossoming Tree reflects her signature style, blending Buddhist philosophy with romantic idealism, and remains one of her most beloved and frequently quoted poems.
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