The ultimate blue sea

Chapter 27- Bird

Su Qing felt that he had been having a very, very long dream. In the dream he seemed to be a bird with a pair of wings on his back that shed feathers when he shook them. He lived in a nest above a precipice.

He stuck his head out of this dangerous abode, feeling that this place was more hair-raising than any tottering, creaking condemned house—below was a precipice of unknown depth, and a brisk wind streaked over his face as though it could sweep him away at any time. Farther on, the vast blue sky and the wind seemed to blend together, so wide that you could never see their limit.

The sunlight was blocked by the cliff. The bird Su Qing shifted carefully and found that he couldn't reach anything.

He understood. He lived in a fluttering condemned house.

Su Qing took one look and retreated fearfully into the nest—while the nest was built in a very exotic location, it was very comfortable inside, soft and warm. Not a bit of wind blew in.

At first he thought that he would starve to death trapped here, but not long after, he saw a big bird with the light at its back land and bring food up to his mouth. Su Qing narrowed his eyes and struggled to raise his head, but he still couldn't clearly see what the big bird looked like. He only thought that the look it gave him was very tender.

The big bird rubbed against him, spread its wings, and flew away.

So Su Qing began to live day to day suspended over a precipice. A long time passed. Every day the big bird came to bring him food or carried some sticks and straw in its mouth to shore up the nest. Then it went away. Su Qing very much wanted to communicate with it, but sadly he had failed bird language in university. He couldn't understand it.

He couldn't remember why he had turned into a bird, nor why he had come to this place. He also didn't have any desire to learn. He only dimly had a strange feeling in his heart, both serene and apprehensive. Each time he saw another bird wheeling through the air, he felt a desire to fly along with it. But each time he came to the edge of the nest, he looked down at the sharp, forbidding precipice and retraced his steps on weak legs.

Su Qing felt imprisoned in this warm nest.

Finally, one day, the big bird came again, and Su Qing gathered his courage and crawled out of the nest, clenching his teeth and stamping his feet, fanning out his wings. The big bird stood calmly at the edge of the nest, its head tilted, watching him nervously flap his wings like an airplane propeller and waveringly fly out.

Su Qing's body rose into the air. He couldn't resist looking down—he thought he was perhaps still human, because only a human would be scared of heights—it didn't seem so bad looking down like this, but Su Qing felt his blood pressure rise on the spot. Whizzing curses roared through his mind, shaking it so he couldn't think of anything else. His first flight encountered an in-flight incident—he bumped right into the opposing cliff and went tumbling down.

Su Qing thought, That's it, this time I'll really fall to my death.

Suddenly, his back was caught by a pair of strong claws. When Su Qing came around, he had returned to the nest in a daze. The big bird gently pecked his head as though reproaching a child who didn't know his own limits. Then it once more spread its wings and flew away.

Through wind and frost, through rain and snow, year in and year out, Su Qing felt that he had lost his faith in flight. The big bird always came and went in a hurry. Most of each day was spent staring emptily at the sky, where the colors and the weather changed frequently. He longed for the sunlight more and more, but he couldn't see it. He could never touch it.

Slowly, he began to hate this nest. Why did it have to be built above a precipice? Why did it have to be so warm and snug, and so small? Then his hatred turned on the sky, on the wind, on the stones, on the sunlight, even on the big bird. He dodged the big bird's intimate touches when it came. He was no longer interested in food.