Can Xue - Vertical Motion

With the lotus leaf on my head, I streaked ahead. As I ran, I whooped impudently. If I didn’t shout, my body would dissolve in the sunlight: I was convinced of this. Finally, I reached the old poplar tree and concealed myself in the dense branches and leaves. This was much better for my skin. I climbed up to the highest branch. The zebra had already left. I heard that the zebras were just passing by; they were on their way to Africa. They belonged to the sun. Was it because of this that the lion was profoundly awed by their stripes? The lion was blocked by a large rock; I could see only the profile of his head. What was he thinking about? At night, did he launch an attack against the zebras? I really wanted to shout at him, but I knew that my voice couldn’t carry that far. And besides, he wouldn’t pay any attention to me. When I thought of the animals that he ate, I felt disgusted with him. I abhorred killing. I — and the earthworms, too — ate only the earth, and even that we didn’t really eat. We merely let the earth travel through our bodies, that’s all. We were benign animals. Underground, we dreamed of the moonlight and dreamed of our ancestors. Although he was disgusting, our esteem for the lion took the upper hand: after all, he was the king who dared to subdue Mother Earth. For example, right now: I was watching him with tears in my eyes. Did I fall in love with him? Nonsense — who could love a lion? He started moving. He was walking toward the riverside, and his shadow was thick and black in the sunlight, as though another lion, a black one, were walking behind him. He was drinking water; he drank for a long time. How could he drink for so long? Was he extinguishing an inner fire? An oriole dropped to his head. The little fellow began singing at once; it was such a sweet, clear sound — so resounding! Even I could faintly hear it. The lion stopped drinking water; he was listening, too. He didn’t move lest he frighten the little bird. I noticed that while the bird was singing, the lion’s shadow disappeared. When the bird stopped singing and flew away, the shadow returned. The lion squatted with his back to the sun, and the shadow circled around in front of him. His image gave me an impression of agony. I wanted to go back, for the moisture on my body had all evaporated; this was very rough on me.

With the lotus leaf on my head again, I scampered off with a whoop. I shouted even more hysterically than I had before, because the sunlight was particularly strong and I was afraid it would spell the end of me. I ran and ran and finally got home. I plunged head-first into the dark cave and stuck my wrinkled skin tightly against the cold, wet earth. I nearly fainted. Not far from me, the earthworms were working systematically. These creatures of the moonlight in fact went their whole lives without seeing the moonlight, but they transmitted messages to me, telling me that they profoundly venerated the moonlight. And so, like me, they were looking into their ancestry. The earthworms’ skin was even more fragile than mine. If they encountered sunlight, they would melt into water. It’s said that this occurred many times in the past. Then, why did they have to hide even from the moonlight? Why? They didn’t tell me.

=

I regained my strength and began plunging down, down, into a deep spot in the ground. I wanted to till vertically. I had tried this earlier, but I had stopped each time I penetrated to the limestone. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to continue, but that I couldn’t stand the smell. The strange thing was that no matter which direction I took in plunging down, in the end I always arrived at the layer of limestone. I couldn’t detour around it. Perhaps it was only a thin layer, or perhaps it was a very deep mineral hell. Either was possible. This time, in desperation, I resolved to risk danger and explore one time. I thought, there must be a way to get through this; otherwise, how had Grandfather and the others made their way down? I didn’t believe that he had been born underground. I heard a slight noise behind me: it was the earthworm following me. Him? Following me? This was suicidal! Just think about his skin. I was about to reach that place, and I already had a headache. My rigid eyeballs were also on the verge of softening. Following the course I had set, I circled toward the right. Circling for a long time, I put up with the odor. My eyeballs had already turned extremely turbid: I could see almost nothing. What was this? A natural cave! A tunnel stretching down! This was unexpected. Naturally, I stuck my head inside. It happened that this cave could accommodate my body, so I went on for a while and then grew frightened. Was this a journey with no return? However, it was already too late to return. I had walked so far. If I turned around, I didn’t know how many days it would take. It was great that the earthworm behind me kept making noise, as if to boost my courage; otherwise, I would have lost my nerve. Although there was also a limestone odor in the tunnel, it was better than outside. Bit by bit, as my vision was restored, I saw some strange decorative designs on the wall of the cave: they were everywhere. After observing enough of them, I concluded that these were similar designs that were constantly changing places. They were dispatched and re-formed again and again, giving the eyes a constant sense of novelty. These simple, primitive designs took the edge off the dread I was feeling. How could there be this kind of tunnel? How had I happened to find it? Could it be that it was Grandfather’s masterpiece? The moisture in my body began bubbling up, and I heard that fellow behind me excitedly grow even noisier. He was beating against the wall of the cave. Each time — in fact, he was rubbing the wall with his head — the wall of the cave made a strange sound, as if it were saying, “That’s right, that’s right. ” I felt comforted that he was there — my good friend. Otherwise, I probably would have fainted in disbelief. I don’t know how long I crept through the tunnel, because underground there was no distinction between day and night. However, I remember that in those moments the distinction between all things vanished. There was neither any sound nor any image: even the earthworm behind me didn’t move. No matter how much energy I expended knocking my head against the wall of the cave, I couldn’t make any sound nor could I see anything. Was it possible that this was “death”? But this situation didn’t last long. When my ears made a rumbling sound, my feeling came back (was it simply a problem with my feeling?). With each passage I crept along, “death” repeated itself. Later on, I grew used to this. Not only was I no longer afraid, but I even looked forward to it a little. In moments like that, my brain was transformed into an endless ocean. The lion’s incomparably huge silhouette appeared; he lay on the blue water. A nightingale flew over behind him. This scene appeared time after time, and I had the illusion that this trip wasn’t to find Grandfather, but to find the lion. How could one go underground to find the lion? This was a question that would normally be raised, but I had already abandoned normal logic. I recognized that I was looking for the lion, and planned, too, to talk with him after I found him — even if it meant being eaten by him. I wouldn’t mind.

=

How could I drop down? I thought back on this over and over, and I was still at a loss. At the time, it seemed I had come to the end of the tunnel, for I saw a vast expanse of white. I couldn’t grasp whether I had emerged from the ground or whether I was still underground. Much less could I figure out where “up” and “down” were ahead of me. By then, even the earthworm had vanished without a trace. Turning back had become even more impossible. I’ve already said that this tunnel was so narrow that it was really lucky it could accommodate my body, so there was no way I could turn around at the cave entrance. This was really dangerous, almost the same as finding a pretense to “drop down.” Of course, after a long trip, I reached my goal. Was this place really my goal? Where was the lion? Now, even the lion didn’t appear on the ocean. It had become a dead sea.