Xiuxiu's hometown had a shallow stream. Her father used to take her there at night to see the Lantern-tail fis…
Xiuxiu's hometown had a shallow stream. Her father used to take her there at night to see the Lantern-tail fish.
These fish were born to find their way in murky water; with a flick of the body, their tail fins glowed, lighting the way for the school.
Xiuxiu loved chasing after them; her father always laughed and told her to slow down.
In winter, the surface froze and the fish were gone, so her father carved this little fish from peach wood scraps and hung it around her neck on a red string.
Later, The Khitans came, and home became ruins.
Father fell in a pool of blood, but this time, he shouted for her to run faster, run faster.
Xiuxiu held back her tears and could only keep running forward.
Now, as she leads the way at the front of the line, the wooden pendant hangs against her heart, swaying gently with her pace.
She doesn't know how many people she can light the way for, but she often thinks that as long as she keeps moving forward, she can pretend her father is still behind her, smiling and following slowly as he used to.