Chapter 80
Ling Hanlu studied the note stuck on the refrigerator door. "Will you dare to run out alone at night again?" "This…" She focused on the note, initially with a complex expression, but then broke into a smile. “Heh, you fool.” She knew what the note’s author was hoping to hear. But instead of rushing to respond, she first examined the handwriting. The words were written in a style reminiscent of calligraphy practice sheets, with a polished and standardized simplicity. Ling Hanlu remembered Lu Yitong’s “story outline” and the similarly unremarkable handwriting in that notebook. Suddenly, she wondered if the kid had really thought about writing a novel. If so, how far had he gotten? If it had abruptly ended, what was the reason? She found herself increasingly curious about the boy—his background, what toys he liked as a child, whether his sense of aesthetics was influenced by some specific event, who was the first person to make his heart race, what were they like, and whether his first experience of desire came on a summer or winter night. She even thought that if there were a place she must visit in her lifetime, it should be his hometown. There, she might find traces of his childhood. He might have thrown stones by a river or climbed a tree to a dizzying height, waiting for rescue until sunset… The traces of past events often inadvertently reveal themselves through a writer’s pen, especially when the initial creative impulse st
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