Preface to "The Story of the Goldfish and the Fisherman" On July 1, 2004, I completed an article titled "The Story of the Goldfish and the Fisherman." The article truthfully records a period of my life. The story takes place in the winter of 2003, in Xinfeng, Guangdong, involving me, my good friend, and a girl. The article revolves around the appearance of this girl and explores the various thoughts and actions of my friend and me as we pursue love. This girl leads us to the peak of our dreams, but it is also she who plunges us into the depths of despair.
Although some descriptions in the article may seem somewhat disrespectful to the girl, neither my friend nor I have ever (from the beginning to now and into the future) blamed her. From start to finish, we have been filled with nostalgia and admiration for her.
August 6, 2005, Beijing
Main Text of "The Story of the Goldfish and the Fisherman"
I don't have much affection for goldfish. They are dull, delicate, lazy, and lack ambition, content with life inside a fishbowl, living a life of ease where food comes to their mouths and clothes to their hands. Moreover, they are stupid—not just a little stupid, but extremely so—eating until they burst, becoming bloated ghosts against their wills perhaps.
Yet, the world works in strange ways; there are quite a few people who keep goldfish. I don't like goldfish, but I must deal with those who do. I think it's time to learn some techniques to uncover the lovable aspects of goldfish.
A few days ago, Yang Minglong mentioned to me a woman he often encounters on his way to work. Yang Minglong said she has a particularly graceful way of walking, her waist and back held straight, eyes focused ahead without distraction. Yang Minglong said it's as if she walks with her heart, not her feet. I asked about her looks. Yang Minglong said from appearances, she's passable, with long braids, glasses, a small bag, and a doll hanging from the bag. I worried that she might be taken. Yang Minglong said it was unlikely, citing facts that he hasn’t seen her with any strange men yet. I said, brother, what are you waiting for? Pursue her wholeheartedly. Yang Minglong frowned and said: The key problem is that we don't know her name, where she's from, or what she does.
In the afternoon, Yang Minglong went to work, and I went to a cheap bookstore. We were going the same way, so we walked together.
We talked about random things while walking when Yang Minglong suddenly nudged me with his elbow and whispered: Look ahead, the one with glasses and braids. I understood what he meant and quickly looked up.
Green sportswear, white jeans, ponytail, pretty face, smooth skin... Hmm, no glasses, embarrassing! Realizing I had mistaken someone else, I quickly shifted my gaze elsewhere.
Look, look, she's coming, that's her. Yang Minglong issued another warning.
Looking ahead, a woman approached gracefully. Round face, long braid, glasses, tight-fitting clothes revealing the beautiful lines of a young woman. Quite attractive.
I'll follow her and find out where she works. I stared at her evenly proportioned, refined, and fleshy legs and said to Yang Minglong without turning back.
Yang Minglong said, last time I lost her, can you do it?
I said, just wait for my good news. I gave him a "V" sign, turned around, and followed her.
She walked ahead of me, and I followed behind her. Various pedestrians and vehicles passed between us. I gathered all my strength, locked onto my target, and kept a moderate distance.
She crossed the pedestrian street, turned into a lane on the right. Afraid of losing her, I ran forward but was blocked by a minibus. I quickly circled around the minibus, entered the lane, and fortunately, she was still in sight.
Seeing her stop, take out keys to open an iron door, I casually walked past the gate, noticing "No. 5 North Garden Alley" on the plaque. After she entered, I turned back, seeing a sign on the left side of the iron gate reading "Xinfeng County Civil Affairs Bureau Office," with another notice: "Please go to the sixth floor for procedures."
I thought this woman must be an employee of the civil affairs bureau. But that was only a guess. To confirm, I decided to check the sixth floor.
I bought a chrysanthemum tea, sipped a few times to calm down, adjusted my mood, hummed a tune, and climbed to the sixth floor of the civil affairs bureau.
The door was open. To show that I am well-educated, I symbolically knocked.
"What is it?" A man asked me. He was about to enter the inner room but came out again due to my knock.
I peeked inside and saw the woman sitting in front of the computer. My guess was confirmed! But now I had to deal with this annoying man. I recited the pre-prepared sentence: "I have a relative in Hong Kong who wants to move back to settle locally. Is this where the procedures are handled?"
The woman laughed inside. The man seriously said: "No. We mainly handle moving-out procedures, from our local area to other places. In your case, you should contact the immigration office. Do you know where the immigration office is? It's over there," pointing to a direction, "go down the stairs and walk forward for a few meters..."
The man rambled on like Tang僧 in "Journey to the West," while the woman was still laughing. After thanking him, I left the sixth floor of the civil affairs bureau.
After careful observation, I found the woman wasn't as beautiful as I imagined. Especially when she laughed, her originally wide face stretched even wider, showing a large mouth full of unevenly colored teeth, making one shiver.
God is fair; He doesn't bestow all advantages on one person.
I reported my glorious achievements to Yang Minglong, naturally omitting minor defects like the bloodthirsty mouth. Yang Minglong was extremely pleased and rewarded me greatly—verbally.
In the evening, lying on his big bed, we discussed how to get acquainted with this girl.
We initially wanted to use external forces to inquire about her name and background, i.e., through colleagues, classmates, friends, or relatives at her workplace, directly describing her features and asking if they recognized her. However, this method was rejected because it involved too many interpersonal issues, prematurely exposing our intentions, possibly causing gossip and damaging our reputations—we were still considered upright gentlemen in everyone's eyes.
Unable to use external resources, we could only rely on ourselves. Between the two of us, Yang Minglong played the lead role, but his identity couldn't be exposed too early. After much analysis, the responsibility of getting acquainted with her fell on my shoulders.
Next, we discussed the method of getting acquainted with her. Phone call? We didn't know her number. Letter? We didn't know her name. Online? No QQ number, and maybe she didn't even use the internet. After much discussion, we finally decided that I would personally approach her and talk face-to-face to obtain the necessary information.
But we couldn't just approach her without reason; we needed a proper excuse. So we thought about giving her a gift, hoping she would appreciate it enough not to beat us up when we got close.
What to give? Flowers? Too cliché! Besides, our relationship hadn't developed to that point yet. Teddy bear? Also cliché! Seeing the doll hanging on her small bag, she probably had plenty of them at home. French perfume? Ridiculous, that's something lovers give each other. Scarf? Hair clip? Necklace? Ring? Gloves? Socks? Each suggestion was raised and then rejected.
Gloves might be nice; the weather was getting cold, and they would be practical. But it was still too cliché.
At this moment, I had a sudden idea and asked Yang Minglong: What about goldfish?
Yang Minglong was silent for a long time and asked: Why did you think of giving goldfish?
Knowing each other for so many years, understanding each other's nature, his question made me realize there was potential, and I couldn't help feeling secretly proud.
I didn't know why I thought of giving goldfish, but I suddenly did—it awakened my active thinking, and I started playing our usual word logic game with Yang Minglong.
Actually, the idea of giving goldfish wasn't baseless. I remembered Yang Minglong wrote several articles about goldfish, indicating he had special feelings for them. Proposing to give goldfish to this mysterious woman might hit the mark for Yang Minglong.
Indeed, Yang Minglong agreed with the plan to give goldfish. Next, we discussed the details: How to present the goldfish? How many? How many red ones? How many black ones? What do they signify? Should we put aquatic plants at the bottom of the fish tank? Should we add gravel? Should we give them on her way to work or on her way home? What size fish tank should we buy? Would it be too heavy for her to carry after filling it with water?
We carefully broke down every step and detail of the process of giving the goldfish, thoroughly thinking through, meticulously analyzing, repeatedly verifying, and finally reached the following conclusions: First, I would give the goldfish, the number depending on the size of the fish tank, usually an even number. Second, the goldfish would mainly be red, with no aquatic plants or other debris. Third, we would give them on her way to work, ideally near her office to avoid her throwing the goldfish and tank into the trash due to the weight. Fourth, to prove I'm a cultured person and not a thug, I would also give her a painting I drew myself. According to Yang Minglong, anyone can come up with the idea of giving goldfish, but painters-turned-thugs are rare.
Back at home, I spent three days drafting a substantial "friendship letter" and selected a painting called "Morning Call" from over thirty of my artworks. It depicted a magnificent rooster standing high on a mountain peak, opening its mouth to shout into a microphone: "Wake up, lazy bugs!"
Wishing that the "Morning Call" painting Yang Minglong and I sent could awaken the sleeping heart of this mysterious woman—if her heart had never been awakened by others and remained asleep.
I took the letter and painting to see Yang Minglong. He happily came downstairs to open the door for me and enthusiastically brewed good tea for me. It's worth noting that Yang Minglong had two jars of tea leaves in his room, containing two different grades of tea. The smaller jar, according to Yang Minglong, contained the superior tea. As he scooped tea leaves from the small jar into the cup, he said to me: "This tea is specially reserved for you."
We quickly got into the main topic, exchanging opinions on the content and rhetoric of the letter and making necessary revisions.
To ensure the clarity, fluidity, prominence, and beauty of the letter's text, we decided to use a printer instead of handwriting it.
The printing was done at Yang Minglong's workplace. It was night, and the entire environmental monitoring station of the Environmental Protection Bureau was quiet and dark. Most terrifyingly, across from us was the dimly visible morgue of the People's Hospital, commonly known as the mortuary. Although neither Yang Minglong nor I were superstitious and knew nothing supernatural would come out of that small house, it was perplexing what the owl hidden in the bamboo grove was calling.
We sat side by side in front of the computer screen. Yang Minglong was responsible for inputting and formatting, while I conducted the final proofreading.
In this rapidly developing information age, writing love letters seems somewhat old-fashioned and outdated, but this merely indicates that we prefer to express ourselves in a more simple and pure way to meet the people we like, just as we like words. Furthermore, we haven't forgotten to use advanced technology to pursue our happiness—the printed love letter is a fine example.
Suddenly, I realized that sometimes computers really outperform human brains.
The letter began with a brief, polite, rational, and enthusiastic greeting, followed by a straightforward introduction of oneself. Then it explained how I noticed her and wanted to be friends with her, finally providing contact information including mobile phone number, email address, QQ number, and real name. It concluded with warm blessings and marked the date as the next day.
According to our plan, the operation would be implemented in two steps. The first step on the first day: deliver the goldfish and painting; the second step on the second day: deliver the letter.
The purpose of the first step was to let the recipient accept the gifts and become curious. The goal of the second step was to answer her curiosity, transforming it into interest, thereby accepting and recognizing us as her friends.
As long as we could become friends, adding "male" or "female" before the word "friend" wouldn't be a concern for either of us.
Since the letter was to be delivered two days later, the date was noted two days in advance.
Lying in the big bed at night, the two of us engaged in an all-night conversation. But as soon as the alarm clock rang, Yang Minglong had to get up for work, while I continued sleeping until Yang Minglong returned from work at noon.
On January 22, 2003, eleven days before the Spring Festival, a small town under Yun Ji Mountain was destined to witness a modern romantic comedy directed and starred by the "Changjiang Twin Villains," imbued with revolutionary spirit and tragic hues.
Speaking of the "Changjiang Twin Villains," some clarification is necessary. Composed of two talented men born in the 1980s, "There are twin stars in the sky, one named Tian Sha, the other Di Sha. One day they fell to earth, transforming into the Changjiang Twin Villains, one named Gu Tian Xiao, the other Gu Tian Lei. Gu Tian Xiao is wise and enlightened, while Gu Tian Lei is emotional and passionate." "Changjiang" refers to the birthplace of Yang Minglong and me, while "Twin Villains" naturally refer to Yang Minglong and me.
Ironically, in terms of life experiences, the one named "Xiao" should actually cry, resulting in "Gu Tian Xiao"; the one named "Lei" should actually laugh, ending up as "Gu Tian Lei." What kind of life logic and fate joke is this?
After lunch, the two of us arrived under two small banyan trees by Qunying Road, where there were more than ten fish tanks of various shapes and sizes, along with differently colored and species of small goldfish in six or seven large basins.
After a short discussion, we chose a round fish tank with wavy edges, filled it with water, and added four small goldfish. Feeling the space could be utilized further, we added two more, totaling six: four red and two black.
Initially, we wanted to assign certain meanings to the number and colors of the goldfish, but after discussing for a long time, we couldn't reach a clear conclusion, so we abandoned the idea.
The exciting moment was approaching! Just as I was about to act, I noticed the water in the fish tank was too murky.
"This affects aesthetics!" I, with some art training, said to this technical backbone of the environmental monitoring station.
Yang Minglong also felt that the solid particles in the water were too large and numerous, affecting not only aesthetics but also the growth and development of the fish.
We immediately returned to Yang Minglong's house and replaced the water for the six fish with tap water from his kitchen.
Interestingly, Yang Minglong's house was very close to the woman's workplace, separated only by a road. One end of the road led to the New Feng County Central Hospital, the other connected to National Highway 105, which was "Gui Feng Road."
Carrying the goldfish and the painting, we set off from Yang's house, crossed Gui Feng Road, and arrived at No. 5 Bei Yuan Lane. At this moment, the iron gate of the Civil Affairs Bureau was still closed, indicating she had not yet arrived for work.
We passed through Bei Yuan Lane and arrived at the bustling pedestrian street.
The pedestrian street was the woman's inevitable route to work, and waiting here to greet her arrival was the most suitable opportunity.
Opposite the entrance of Bei Yuan Lane was an unopened tea shop with the iron gate pulled down, leaving a relatively empty space in front. We placed the goldfish under the eaves of the tea shop, bought cola, drank, chatted, and waited, adjusting our mood and relaxing our nerves.
The clock was about to strike three, but the woman had not yet appeared, and the two of us were getting anxious.
I said to Yang Minglong, "You watch the goldfish, I'll go ahead and check."
"You're going where? Hey, come back!" Yang Minglong shouted loudly behind me but didn't dare to chase because he had to guard the goldfish.