Chapter 11: You Are Your Own Self

Fu Siqiao wandered alone on Dujiang Bridge, her thoughts drifting like willow catkins scattered by the wind, aimless and unfocused, unaware of when she had come to stand there.

The biting cold wind tugged mercilessly at the hem of her coat. She instinctively wrapped it tighter around herself, her gaze vacant as she stared down at the ceaselessly rushing river below.

The swollen river flowed heavily, as if a deep sigh from nature itself. The turbulent currents crashed against the bridge’s pillars, sending up layers of white foam before being reluctantly swallowed by the swirling whirlpools, disappearing into the endless murkiness.

This surging river left Fu Siqiao feeling lost. Her feet involuntarily edged closer to the railing, as if drawn by an invisible force.

“Miss, don’t do anything rash!” A young, beautiful woman’s urgent shout exploded in Fu Siqiao’s ears.

Startled, Fu Siqiao snapped back to reality. The woman before her was wide-eyed, her expression full of panic and worry.

Her hands gripped Fu Siqiao’s arm tightly, as if to forcibly pull her back from the brink of danger.

Fu Siqiao was initially stunned but quickly realized she had been misunderstood. A flush crept across her cheeks, and she lowered her head awkwardly, hastily explaining, “I’m sorry, you misunderstood. I just wanted to get a little closer to see the river.”

The woman frowned slightly, her suspicion not entirely dispelled. She released Fu Siqiao’s arm and scrutinized her carefully.

Only then did Fu Siqiao notice the woman’s delicate features. Her fair skin was flushed from anxiety.

Her long, glossy black hair was tousled by the wind, strands clinging to her cheeks, making her eyes shine even brighter.

“Why are you apologizing?” the woman asked softly, a hint of confusion and curiosity in her voice.

Fu Siqiao looked up, her gaze slightly innocent as she replied, “I don’t know. I just felt like I made you worry, so I apologized instinctively.”

Then she turned her eyes back to the river, a complex emotion flickering silently within them.

The woman gently tapped Fu Siqiao’s head, her gesture a mix of mild reproach and warmth. “What are you looking at? Is this world the way you imagine it to be? No, it isn’t. You have to live true to yourself.”

Her eyes softened as if sharing her own past with Fu Siqiao, or perhaps guiding her toward the path ahead.

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Fu Siqiao rubbed the spot that had been tapped and gave a faint, bittersweet smile. “I’m just… tired lately. Looking at the river, it feels like it could carry away my troubles.”

Her voice was low, as if the cold wind had drained her strength.

The woman sighed gently, arms crossed, her gaze firm as she looked at Fu Siqiao. “Silly girl, running away won’t solve anything.

Look at this river. Though it rushes endlessly, it is still confined by the riverbed and cannot flow freely as it wishes.

People are the same. Life brings many disappointments, but that’s no reason to give up on yourself.”

Fu Siqiao listened quietly, her eyes gradually clearing. She looked at the woman and nodded earnestly. “Thank you. I understand.”

The woman smiled and patted Fu Siqiao’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s windy here. Don’t stand around too long.” With that, she turned and walked ahead.

Fu Siqiao followed, her steps no longer heavy.

The cold wind swept past. She took a deep breath, feeling the sharp freshness in the air.

She knew her confusion might not vanish immediately, but at this moment, she had found a glimmer of warmth and strength—a beam of light in the darkness, illuminating the road ahead.

Curious, Fu Siqiao blinked and asked, “Sister, what’s your name?”

The woman’s lips curled into a playful yet mysterious smile as she raised an eyebrow. “I’m Fu Yuan. Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

Then, as if recalling something amusing, she burst out laughing softly, hands on her hips, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Fu Siqiao.

“I work at the Wuyou Psychiatric Hospital. If you ever have time, you’re welcome to come visit me! If you have any questions, I promise to answer them clearly—though you’ll have to find me first, haha!”

She spoke animatedly, gesturing wildly as if trying to encompass the whole sky in her words.

Fu Siqiao couldn’t help but giggle at her antics, nodding eagerly. “Alright, Sister Fu Yuan, I’ve got it.”

---

Then, as if a floodgate had opened, Fu Siqiao’s hands moved involuntarily—pointing at the river one moment, patting her chest the next—as she launched into a torrent of stories.

From mischievous childhood pranks, like secretly dyeing the neighbor’s dog in bright colors and being chased for several blocks,

to the tangled troubles of her adult romantic life—especially about Zhang Chenxi, who infuriated her so much she stomped her foot. When she spoke of him, her eyes widened, and her hands flailed in the air as if trying to throw away all the grievances and frustrations in her heart.

“Hmph, to hell with Zhang Chenxi! I’m going to shine on my own from now on. I won’t be his substitute anymore! I’m smart—I won’t be fooled by his fake act again.”

Fu Siqiao grew more and more animated, suddenly running to the bridge’s edge. She cupped her hands like a megaphone and shouted at the roaring river beneath Dujiang Bridge.

Her voice carried far on the wind, startling a few waterbirds resting by the riverbank, who fluttered up into the sky.

Fu Yuan laughed uproariously nearby, nearly in tears, patting her thighs and murmuring, “Yes, yes, that’s it! Shout it out loud—that’s the way to feel better.”

Her laughter was bright and clear, echoing over the river and intertwining with Fu Siqiao’s shouts, forming a unique and harmonious melody.

After shouting, Fu Siqiao seemed to shed a heavy burden. She exhaled deeply, her face relaxed into a joyful smile.

She hopped back to Fu Yuan’s side, linking her arm with hers, grinning happily. “Sister Fu Yuan, come on, let’s keep chatting. I have so much more to tell you.”

Fu Yuan smiled and tapped Fu Siqiao’s nose teasingly. “You little chatterbox, once you start talking, you never stop!”

With that, the two linked arms and walked toward the other end of Dujiang Bridge, talking and laughing.

The wind still blew, tousling their hair, but it could not disperse the strange, warm bond between them.

Their figures stretched long in the sunset’s afterglow, like a silhouette filled with stories, leaving an extraordinary memory on Dujiang Bridge.