【Final Chapter】

44

“This was an entrustment from Old Mr. Shen. It was probably over twenty years ago when he approached my mentor.”

Inside the law firm, Wen Yan and Lawyer Liu sat opposite each other across a coffee table.

The mentor Lawyer Liu spoke of was the lawyer who had brought her into the profession. Though he was now retired, this entrustment had been passed down from him into her hands.

“My mentor had some personal ties with Old Mr. Shen and was safekeeping something for him. He said that if you, Mr. Wen, ever came in person in the future, it was to be handed over to you directly.”

Having traveled thousands of miles from the small county town to get here, Wen Yan had experienced so many surprises that he felt almost numb.

He handed over his ID card for Lawyer Liu to verify.

Soon, Lawyer Liu gave him a key and led him to a bank safe-deposit box.

Wen Yan had no idea what medicine Shen Po was selling in his gourd^[1]. Following conventional logic, he figured Shen Po might have left him some cash, real estate, or perhaps some valuable treasure. Wen Yan had even felt he didn’t deserve it, thinking that if it was too much, he would donate a portion; he had already started considering how much to donate and to which charity.

Yet when the safe-deposit box was opened, there was only a single book inside.

More precisely, a very thick diary.

Holding it in his hands and looking at the four large characters reading “Shen Po’s Diary” on the cover, Wen Yan did not know whether to laugh or cry.

Could this be a prank spanning a whole century?

Did that fellow Shen Po actually think he was being funny?

Her mission accomplished, Lawyer Liu felt a wave of relief.

“I thought Old Mr. Shen had just played a joke on my mentor. I never expected there would truly come a day when I’d hand the key over to you.”

Wen Yan said, “This is what he wanted to give me? A diary?”

Lawyer Liu spread her hands. “Actually, before today, I didn’t know what was inside the safe-deposit box either. Thank you for broadening my horizons, Mr. Wen. Perhaps something is tucked between the pages. If you need anything, feel free to contact me anytime.”

She gave Wen Yan a business card, and the two soon said their goodbyes.

Holding the heavy diary in his hands, Wen Yan felt he should take a good look at what trick Shen Po was playing.

He found an uncrowded café, picked the quietest, most secluded corner where he would not be disturbed, placed the diary on the table, untied the ribbon on the side, and turned to the first page.

On a chilly afternoon, sunlight streamed in through the window, dappling the diary with flecks of golden radiance.

…

“Hey, Wen Yan, long time no see. How are you doing?

It feels like the first time addressing you so formally; it’s not quite this young master’s style.

Though to me it feels as if we only parted not long ago, I don’t know if you’ll ever come back. Maybe when you see this diary, it will be years, decades, or even a century later. By then, I doubt this young master could possibly live long enough to become a hundred-year-old monster.

I want to write some things down. First, for you to read later as a bit of a keepsake. Second, I need to accomplish something; I can’t keep muddling along aimlessly, so this diary will serve as a spur to keep myself moving forward. Third, in case you come back one day and wrongfully accuse me of slacking off, this diary will stand as evidence to prove my innocence.

You can read just one page a day. That way, it’ll be like we’re living our lives at the same time across two different eras. Who knows, by the day you pass away of old age, you might not even have finished reading it! Hahaha!

You know, even though you were always bossing me around from your historical vantage point, I don’t hate you. On the contrary, I’m very grateful to you. If not for you, by the time January 28 arrived, I might still have been a useless wastrel living in a stupor, having no clue what I was supposed to do or how to protect my family.

Oh, right, I forgot to date this. Let’s stop here for today.

Signed, February 15, 1932.”

…

Wen Yan had never imagined the diary would begin in such a way.

From the day he left, Shen Po was destined never to return to the person he used to be.

Shen Po had decided against going abroad to study with Zheng Sheng for the time being. Still concerned about the fifty crates of books stored in Old Du’s dock warehouse, he wanted to accompany Zhang Yuanji to escort the books to Sichuan, where an educator named Zhang Lan was willing to help receive and safeguard them.

But with such a precarious political situation and perilous times, travel was not easy. The two had to wait until the March ceasefire of that year before they could set off, and the shipment also relied on vessels generously provided by Mr. Feng.

It was Shen Po’s first time traveling far from home in his life. He recorded everything he saw and heard along the way, capturing the scenery, local customs, and the people’s livelihoods, writing the China of 1932 into his diary for the Wen Yan of a century later.

“July 5, 1932. Sunny.

It has been far too hot along the way. Plagues are running rampant: smallpox, scarlet fever, and several diseases I can’t even name. Luckily, I got vaccinated in Shanghai beforehand, but I still saw many people die because they couldn’t afford injections or medicine; they couldn’t even afford food.

Wen Yan, I feel like whenever I see something now, I can’t help thinking about it. I wonder whether its existence makes sense, and if not, what can be done to improve and build upon it. But so many times, I feel completely powerless. I realize I understand far too little. Coming out this time has truly made me feel like I wasted all my time in the past.

Besides, traveling by boat the whole way is quite dull. If only you were still here, at least you could bicker with me. But now I’m gradually coming to realize that you probably won’t ever return.”

…

The diary entries were not always so long. Sometimes there was only a brief sentence, and at times several days’ dates were skipped entirely. Shen Po would merely mention in the next entry, telling Wen Yan that he had run into bandits along the way and nearly lost his life. Fortunately, Mr. Feng’s reputation carried great weight, and there were other prominent figures traveling with them, so the bandits held back out of caution. Still, had a fight truly broken out, their group definitely would have suffered.

Such thrilling yet concise accounts appeared more than once.

Even for a wealthy scion like Shen Po, living in this era was far from smooth sailing. What he had to face went beyond the Japanese, encompassing all kinds of unexpected perils.

“August 3, 1932. Clear.

“I only heard about Liu Changchun^[2] today. He didn’t make it to the finals at the Los Angeles Olympics. I remember going to Hangzhou in 1930 to watch the National Games, and he was the champion. People said he wasn’t in good form this time because he was exhausted from crossing the vast ocean. If the Olympics were held here on our side one day, this kind of thing wouldn’t happen anymore, right?

“My time on your side back then was too short, and I was too busy messing around on the phone to look into these things properly. Wen Yan, such a day will come, won’t it?

“Sigh, even if you were still here and told me it would, I still wouldn’t dare believe it. On my journey leaving Shanghai, the China I saw was truly far too impoverished. Not to mention our current internal strife and foreign aggression, even if all fighting stopped right now, where would we get the money to build? How could we develop all those impoverished places? I really can’t imagine it, yet it truly happened in your era.

“Wen Yan, I used to wonder what the point of that brief experience of swapping lives was. I saw your life, but I could never truly live a hundred years in the future. You were there with me through my troubles, yet only I knew you existed.

“But now, I think I’m starting to understand.

“From you, I can draw hope and see the spring of the future. You are like a lamp lit for me in the long, dark night, helping illuminate my path forward.

“At least I know that striving is meaningful. Thank you, Wen Yan.”

…

Before he knew it, day had turned to dusk, and dusk to night. Wen Yan rubbed his eyes and looked up. Gazing outside, he saw a sea of glowing city lights.

The waiter had come by once in between. Wen Yan ordered dinner and a drink, ate in a hurry, and couldn’t wait to open the diary again to keep reading. The waiter quietly cleared the dishes without disturbing him.

Wen Yan had already reached the year 1935 in the diary. As the years passed one by one, the atmosphere grew increasingly heavy. Though he knew full well that Shen Po would surely make it through, he still couldn’t resist the urge to escape and “cheat” by flipping ahead, as many questions still lingered in his heart.

For instance, why Shen Po had a photo with his maternal grandfather, why he thought to leave behind this diary for him, and how his life had turned out later on.

Wen Yan turned the pages carefully, as if handling a priceless treasure.

The dates shifted with each page. Skimming through the text, his eyes searched for keywords until they landed on the year 1986.

That year, Shen Po was already in his seventies. Since ancient times, reaching seventy had been a rarity. Though his disposition had always remained childlike, he could not ignore the natural laws of time.

It was also in this year that policies gradually eased, giving him the opportunity to return to the country to visit relatives and carry out the plan he had long prepared.

Under the pretext of visiting old friends, Shen Po traveled to Wen Yan’s hometown and participated in local investment and construction, becoming a well-known patriotic overseas Chinese industrialist. During an event where he donated a school building, he met Wen Yan’s maternal grandfather. Sharing a passion for fishing, calligraphy, and painting, the two hit it off and gradually became close friends.

Regarding this past event, Shen Po wrote in his diary:

“China is vast. I went to great lengths to find information about you. Fortunately, back when you were volunteering as a teacher in the countryside, your ID card was in your dorm room. I searched based on that impression, and since I happened to be returning to invest in the country anyway, it worked out for the best. Your grandfather’s surname was Chen, and for a while I worried I had the wrong person, until your mother married a man surnamed Wen. Only then was I certain.

“Wen Yan, I wrote this diary to give myself a record and an accounting, and also to thank you. Thank you for accompanying me throughout a lifetime of growth. In countless days of displacement and near-despair, the tiny flame of hope that never went out in my heart came entirely from you. Because you were there, I was able to endure.

“And now, I leave this diary to you. I hope it can accompany you as well, if not for a lifetime, then for a few years or months of growth, so that you will persist on your own path and never regret your choices.

“I know you definitely wouldn’t have the patience to read all the way here in order and would skip ahead first. So let me tell you this: go ahead and do whatever you want to do.

“You have this kind of character. You could make a profligate Young Master Shen mend his ways. As long as you have just a little more resilience, you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to. The road ahead of you will only grow broader and broader.”

Wen Yan’s fingers stopped here.

He had read about Shen Po’s life. He passed away in 1999, just one year after Wen Yan was born.

That was why Wen Yan had no memory of him.

What an extraordinary fate. A brief swap of lives from a century ago had shaped the course of one man’s entire life.

And what about the other person?

For a long time, Wen Yan sat in a daze.

“Excuse me, sir, we’re getting ready to close. Would you mind coming back tomorrow?”

The waiter walked over, but seeing Wen Yan look up with a face full of tears, he was startled.

“Um, I’m not saying you can’t stay… We open at nine tomorrow morning…”

“I’m sorry!”

Wen Yan wiped his face haphazardly, stood up to pay, and left the cafe holding the diary.

The city at late night had not fallen silent. The bustling warmth of daily life drifted around Wen Yan as the aroma of street barbecue. A food delivery rider clattered past him, a couple walked toward him arm in arm, cars halted at red lights, and a mother held her child’s hand as they crossed the street, a candied hawthorn skewer clutched in the child’s other hand.

This was the peaceful mortal world that Shen Po loved to see.

A hundred years ago, there was once a carefree Young Master Shen who would saunter off to dance halls at this hour to chase women. He had arrogantly said to Wen Yan, “If you don’t enjoy life to the fullest while you’re alive, how could you be worthy of walking this earth?”

Later, he had said to Wen Yan, “If I’m destined to exhaust all my enjoyment in my first twenty years and suffer after that, then I’ll just endure a little bitterness. At worst, you can make up for it by spending more time playing on your phone and watching more ball games for me.”

Thank you, Shen Po.

Just as you thanked me, I must thank you too.

Wen Yan clutched the diary tightly and sent a message to the principal of the rural school where he volunteered.

【Hello Principal, this is Wen Yan. I’ll be returning tomorrow.】