(1)
Those who have never been to the sea cannot understand.
The sea—
It is on an entirely different scale from a clear stream or a small spring.
Even rushing rivers and vast lakes cannot compare to it.
Only when standing before the sea can one truly grasp what “boundless” and “endless” mean.
Whether it can truly broaden one’s mind is unknown.
But it certainly makes you feel your own insignificance.
If just the stretch of sea before you is this enormous, then how vast must the entire ocean be?
And Earth itself—let alone the entire universe, even just within the solar system—is not among the larger bodies.
Even An Jing, who grew up by the sea, feels as small as a grain of dust every time she returns to the shore.
“Haah—such a familiar feeling.” An Jing took a deep breath of the salty, fishy sea breeze. “It’s like being back in my mother’s arms.”
“So vast and deep, it makes you afraid to get close.” Zhu Ying gently pursed her lips. She was soaking wet—she’d been having a water fight with Wang Xinru moments ago, and now she was too exhausted to do anything but sprawl on the golden sand.
“So, how’s the swimming lessons going?”
“I already knew how to swim, okay? But—I don’t know why—I just didn’t dare to splash around in the sea…”
“Swimming’s not about splashing around, is it?”
“Anyway, anyway, I just felt kinda… scared to move.”
“What about Wangwang?”
“So tired…” Wang Xinru blinked lightly, lying face-down under the beach umbrella with a weary expression. “Yingying almost drowned at the end—she struggled so hard.”
“That spot was only about four feet deep at most, right?”
“But only my head could stay above water!”
“If you weren’t scared, it would have been fine.”
“When you step into nothing, how can you not be scared!”
“Why did you step into nothing?”
“Because I kicked too hard and jumped up a bit, so when I came down, I missed the bottom. It was actually fine…” Wang Xinru sighed helplessly. “I could tell Yingying knows how to swim, but she just couldn’t let go.”
“With a little more practice, it’ll be fine.” Zhu Ying lazily rested her head on An Jing’s chest. “For now, let’s rest a bit…”
“Were you watching us the whole time, An’an?”
“Huh? No.” An Jing tilted her head to look at Wang Xinru and caught the fleeting disappointment in her eyes. She quickly explained, “Actually, I was more focused over there. That figure looks really familiar.”
“Hmm—the fisherman?”
“Yeah, looks like an old man… Anyway, it feels familiar.”
“It can’t be your grandfather, can it?”
“Now that you mention it, maybe it is. I’m going to check it out!”
“Hey!” Zhu Ying, who had slid off An Jing’s chest, complained loudly. “My pillow ran away on its own!”
“Do you want to come too, Yingying?”
“Let’s go… Hey, Xiao Ru, give me a hand.”
“Mm.”
“Xiao Jing—hey—you’ve got sand all over your butt—hey—wait for us!!”
(2)
The sand was covered with footprints of varying depths.
The students had all been playing together in one spot, but now most of them were tired and had returned to the shore. Only someone as energetic as Fang Qiang was still playing games, wrestling with the waves.
Compared to the chaotic footprints on the other side, here the prints were much simpler—a single trail stretching into the distance.
An Jing finally reached the old man. He wore a bamboo hat that had seen who-knows-how-many years of use, both hands gripping a bamboo fishing rod that seemed unlikely to catch any sea fish. He smoked lazily, a half-finished cigarette between his fingers.
A hollow seashell beside him served as an ashtray, already stubbed with several butts. The sound of walking on sand wasn’t loud, but the faint crunch-crunch was still audible.
The old man turned his head. His eyelids seemed half-closed from the sun. “Oh—a little one came over here, eh? You folks are sure lively over there.”
“Sorry, old man, for disturbing you.” An Jing scratched her head awkwardly.
“No harm done. When you fish in the sea, you don’t worry about noise. The sea is far noisier than you.” The old man burst into hearty laughter.
Just then, from the shadow of a nearby reef, a somewhat familiar voice came: “Well, well—if it isn’t my little grandson?”
“Ah?” An Jing quickly looked over and saw an old man with much darker skin and much deeper wrinkles. He wore a very modern-looking cap, and his fishing rod was far more advanced than the bamboo one—probably carbon fiber. “Grandfather?!”
“Haha, so it really is you. What, it’s not often you come to the sea—why aren’t you playing in the water?”
“It’s not that rare. I used to play every day when I was a kid. Lost interest a long time ago.” An Jing cleared her throat awkwardly, then turned back to look at the old man sitting beside her. “No wonder you looked so familiar. I remember now—you’re the one who sells snow-clad red bean paste, right?”
“Oh? You’ve bought some?”
“Yeah. Whenever I wanted to, the sign always said something like ‘Out Fishing’…”
“Haha, seems we have some connection. And it turns out this old fishing buddy of mine is your grandfather.”
“Yeah, he’s my real grandfather.”
“Your granddaughter is quite pretty.” The old man with the bamboo rod laughed loudly.
“Granddaughter?!” Grandfather huffed. “This is my real grandson!”
“What? How is that a grandson?”
“How is it not?”
“How is it?”
An Jing twitched her lips. “Can you two not argue like little kids…”
“Haha—”
“By the way, can you even understand my grandfather’s terrible Mandarin?”
“At first I couldn’t. But after listening enough, I got it. Honestly, you southerners really don’t speak standard Mandarin. Painful to hear. The younger generation is a bit better, but these old guys—they’d be better off not speaking Mandarin at all.”
Grandfather immediately muttered something in his local dialect.
“Hey, kid, what did this old fart say?”
“Uh…” An Jing coughed dryly and looked to Wang Xinru for help, but the latter had already turned away, laughing.
As for Zhu Ying—she didn’t understand a word. Not just the dialect—even Grandfather’s accent-heavy Mandarin was hard for her to follow.
“Um… he said your… your mother speaks Mandarin as… as… uh… as standard as your farts…” An Jing tried to polish the content, but dialect curses were way dirtier than Mandarin ones.
“Haha, I bet the old bastard said something much worse than that!”
“Ahem!”
“Bastard!” Grandfather cursed with a laugh.
This time, the old man with the bamboo rod understood—after all, it was a classic insult from the small city. Anyone who lived there for half a year would hear it often. If you didn’t get it, you just hadn’t integrated into local life.
“Caught any fish?”
“Just started, what’s the rush?”
“He—fishing skill—no good.” Grandfather tried hard to speak standard Mandarin, but instead of improving, it became even more halting. “Me—much better. He—just boasts!”
“Pfft haha—you two are really close.” An Jing sat down naturally beside them. “Grandfather, did you used to come fish here often too?”
Zhu Ying glanced at Wang Xinru, then sat down close to An Jing on the wet sand. The spot was very near the sea, and the tide occasionally lapped over their ankles, like gentle hands stroking them.
“Your grandson is something else—landing two little girls at once.”
“Of course. He’s my grandson.”
“Grandfather, don’t be proud of everything! There’s nothing to be proud of! And what do you mean, ‘landing two’?!”
“Otherwise why would these two girls come with you?” The old man with the bamboo rod asked sideways.
“Can’t I have close female friends…?”
“Bullshit. Close female friends aren’t like this. They’re definitely interested in you. Let me see—this big-chested one is the most interested.”
An Jing almost let the word “fuck” fly out of her mouth, but she forced it back down.
“Old fart, move over a bit. Have some tact. Make room for your future two granddaughters-in-law.”
“Huh? I-I’ll just sit here…” Wang Xinru sat down hurriedly against the reef.
“An Jing, you’re quite something.” Grandfather laughed in dialect. “When the time comes, I’ll prepare two bride-price gifts!”
“Grandfather, our country is monogamous by law, okay? And bride price is a feudal custom we shouldn’t keep…”
“So what. If you don’t tell and they don’t tell, who’s going to bother you?”
“Hey—Grandfather!”
“Haha—”
“What are you two muttering in that dialect again?” The other old man was unhappy. “I’m telling you—speak Mandarin, understand? Speak standard language, understand or not?”
“Uh…”
“I’ve only known your grandfather for less than a month.”
“Oh, oh… So he started coming to fish more often after moving off the island.”
Grandfather understood Mandarin. He proudly showed off his fishing rod. “Ah, this rod—your second uncle bought it from Japan. He insisted on buying it. I said I didn’t want it, but he bought it anyway. Not that great—it just doesn’t break easily when you hook a big fish.”
Good thing he spoke in dialect, or the other old man would have been really upset…
“Grandfather, why do you come fishing so often?” Zhu Ying asked curiously.
Grandfather immediately switched to Mandarin and grinned warmly. “Oh, because, from here, this direction, see, over there, is, the island.”
“He means that straight ahead from here is our old village.”
“But you can’t see it?”
“Just looking in that direction makes me… feel at ease in my heart.” Grandfather lit a cigarette. “That’s where I grew up. I lived there since I was little. Can’t forget it…”
Wang Xinru asked softly in the local dialect, “Grandfather, do you still remember the stories you told An’an when she was little, about the Anhai Deity?”
“I remember them for sure.”
“By the way, Grandfather, I don’t really recall—how old were you when you said you saw the Anhai Deity?”
“Back then? Let me think. Your great-grandfather was less than thirty, and I was eight or nine…”