【Longing Transforms into the Language of the Wutong Tree】(Part 1) Author: Heavenly Lone Star

page views:1 Publication date:2023-09-08

Author: Lone Star of Calamity
Word Count: 7152

(I) Introduction

It was another winter like this. The plane trees on both sides of Renmin Road had lost all their leaves, leaving only
their haphazardly standing branches, like a tattered net hanging overhead, all efforts to break free
were in vain. The northeast wind howled past, piercing the necks of passersby, the stinging pain making
them shiver.

The snow on the motor vehicle lanes had been shoveled away by sanitation workers early in the morning, even the cigarette butts and plastic bags in the corners
had been picked up. The snow on the sidewalks, which was no deeper than ankles, had not melted, and the mottled footprints were not obvious. It seemed
that no one wanted to be out so early in such weather.

There were few pedestrians on the road, and even the usually bustling street vendors on both sides of the gate of Renmin Road Middle School, which affected the city's appearance
, were nowhere to be seen. Naturally, there were no domineering and imposing urban management officers to be seen in this kind of weather. Thinking about taking my daughter to school every day
, having to slowly move forward and dodge
street , it's a truly painful journey.

That night, I saw my wife standing outside the bedroom balcony, her slender, white fingers holding the phone to her ear.
After a long while slowly turned her head, revealing a gentle expression and a rosy complexion. I froze,
a sense washing over me. I jumped out of bed and yelled at her, "Quick, throw the phone away..." Just then, my wife leaped over the balcony with
her long, slender legs, turned around, and smiled at me, saying, "Take good care of Xi'er, please...

forget about me!" Then, resolutely, she jumped off the building.

I jumped after her in terror, but how could I possibly save her from that seven or eight meters
? I watched helplessly as my wife fell like a kite, her clothes fluttering, her hair flying, a
resolute smile on her lips. Suddenly, my face started to itch uncontrollably. I tried to ignore it, but the itch only intensified, like
a thousand ants crawling across my face, until I couldn't take it anymore and frantically slapped my face with both hands.

With a "smack," a tingling sensation shot through my face, and I opened my eyes abruptly to see a foot clad in a white stocking
suspended in mid-air right in front of me. Her toes, painted with red nail polish, curled inwards, peeking faintly through the white silk fabric.
Like a feather, they fluttered gently, slowly brushing against my face.

"Xixi...stop it...let me sleep a little longer~" My eyes were filled with a doting yet helpless
smile as I reached out to tickle her soles.

"No, I won't let you sleep...you promised me we'd go to the zoo, the backstreet, and Golden
Hour ." My daughter immediately pulled her foot back, pouting defiantly. Suddenly, her eyes widened in anger as she
burst into laughter, doubled over with laughter: "Dad, what did you dream about? Haha...you must have
done , you...ha...slapped yourself. Haha, I was so startled..."

The once vivid dream gradually blurred after my daughter's antics, and the remaining hazy memories
weren't enough to make me embarrassed to reveal my sorrowful feelings in front of her. I glanced at my daughter with feigned anger, but that glance
was like a dream. She seemed to be wearing light makeup, looking incredibly fresh and adorable.

The pink wool dress she was wearing was something she'd bought herself online from Tmall a few days ago. At the time, I'd thought it
might not suit her high school student status, but now it looked perfectly appropriate. She wore white
stockings , her long, beautiful legs on full display, and below her legs, red nail polish was
faintly visible at her delicate toes. This wasn't my daughter; she didn't look like a high school student at all—she looked like an office lady!

"Look at what you're wearing…who told you to wear nail polish…huh? Don't forget you're still a
student, a high school student." I knew that at her age, her desire to look good was growing stronger, and
girls her age dressed like this in TV shows and movies didn't attract much attention. But in my
heart, she was still a child, too young. I couldn't bear to see her grow up, nor did I want her to.

"Dad~" My daughter called out, her voice trailing off, looking at
me with a seemingly pleading expression. I turned my head away, looking elsewhere. "Dad, you're so old-fashioned. Aren't we going to Golden Time
for a photoshoot today? I chose a period costume, and the photographer said nail polish would make the photos look more three-dimensional."

My daughter said nonchalantly.

"You always have a point… Let me ask you again, what day is it today? What season is it?
Aren't you cold wearing such thin stockings in the dead of winter? Don't tell me you value style over warmth; your body is your own responsibility!" I turned around and
questioned her. Just then, I saw my daughter casually cross her right leg over her left, gently alternating her hands as
she smoothed the stockings from bottom to top, smoothing out the wrinkles.

Gradually, the white stockings clung smoothly to my daughter's slender legs, as if they were her natural
skin. After smoothing the stockings, my daughter lifted her toes and wiggled them, carefully examining the nail polish. I was stunned.
My daughter had grown up! He's becoming more and more like my wife! My wife used to be obsessed with stockings, wearing
skirts all year round.

Many women don't wear stockings in the summer; bare thighs exude a sense of naturalness and health.
Even I, a grown man, know that summer is a visually pleasing season. Unless a woman has a leg disability, wrinkled
skin , large pores, or excessive body hair, God knows that bare thighs are
far more comfortable than stockings. But my wife doesn't take off her stockings in the summer; on the contrary, she changes them even more
frequently. She'll wear flesh-colored stockings in the morning and black stockings when she gets home from work in the afternoon.

At first, I wasn't used to my wife's narcissism, even thinking it was a kind of illness. It wasn't until one
night when she wore black stockings with a garter belt and performed a footjob on me that I understood: this is
the most beautiful part of my wife's body. Since it's the most beautiful, why be shy and secretive? It
should be shown off, for the world to admire and even respect!

The last thing my wife does before leaving in the morning is to gracefully raise
her legs, clad in various colored stockings, in front of the 3D mirror by the bed, alternating between smoothing them with her hands. Then she slowly stands up, turns to the side, and stands on
tiptoe to examine her calves. Now, my daughter does the same.

Suddenly, she looks up at me, grins, and says, "Dad, I want to wear a skirt today. I don't have any thick
stockings , but I know where we have some."

"Where?" I ask expressionlessly, looking at my daughter with suspicion.

"How about I go look there? Maybe I can find some." As she speaks, she glances at the clothes and hats in my room.
She pouted. Sure enough, she found out, though I hadn't wanted her to know too soon.

The "there" my daughter mentioned was a hidden room in my room, tucked away to the left of the TV wall in my master bedroom. I
'd framed a 2.7-meter by 1-meter landscape painting and nailed it there to block the view; from the outside, there wasn't
a single trace. My wife used to use it as a walk-in closet, storing her
clothes for every
season I haven't been able to face that fact, and I haven't used that closet for anything else.

I looked at my daughter with a puzzled expression, then laughed in exasperation, "When did you find out about this place?" "

Haha, our house is only so big, if I want to know, I can find out. Is it that hard to know where it is?" My daughter
looked like a victor, her face beaming with joy. Seeing the mix of confusion and anger in my eyes, she couldn't help but tell the truth:
"Last month, the upstairs neighbors were renovating. You know, they were tearing down walls for a week. I don't even know
what they're going to renovate their house into. Even if it were twice the size of our house, they wouldn't have taken so long to demolish it!"

"Okay, stop glaring at me, I'll tell you. One day you went to work, and I was home alone. Suddenly, I
heard a 'thud' from this room. I was startled and rushed over to check. That's when I realized your
painting had fallen to the floor." My daughter pointed to the landscape painting on the wall: "I saw
gaps , so I went over and pushed them. When I pushed, I found out it was a small room. Later... later I pretended nothing
had happened and nailed the painting back up."

I stared at my daughter for a while until she made a face at me before I looked away. I knew all of this
was bound to happen sooner or later, and she would find out about this secret room one day. My wife's face slowly appeared before me
. In my memory, my wife looked at me with tears in her eyes and whispered in my ear, "Husband, forget me.
When Xixi grows up, don't hide it from her. She has the right to know about me. I once thought I would
give her the best years of my life, be with her, but..."

I slumped onto the edge of the bed, feeling utterly drained, my heart sinking to the bottom. My daughter has
indeed grown up. All these years I've spoiled her, to the point of being disrespectful and unruly. But
telling her about my wife's past now, I don't know where to begin. Can she really accept it? Or is she
ready to accept everything her mother went through? I don't know, I really don't know!

My daughter blinked her bright eyes at me, knelt down beside me, and took my hand, asking with concern,
"Dad... Dad... Dad, what's wrong? It's just where Mom's belongings are."

After a long silence, I looked up at my daughter and slowly said, "I didn't tell you before because you were too young, and I was afraid
you couldn't accept it. Now you're older, and if you want to know about her, just ask me, and I'll tell you everything. You... you
really... really want to know?" As I said this, a wave of anxiety washed over me. I was afraid my daughter would
pry and ask , and even more afraid she wouldn't be able to accept it.

I had originally planned to tell her all this little by little after she got married, and if possible, I would
never mention it to her again. I have no secrets in my life, but this is the most despicable, shameful,
and remorseful knot in my heart that I've always felt, one I'd rather keep hidden. I promised my wife that now that my daughter is older, I would tell her everything she wants to
know , so that she wouldn't forever carry the regret of being from a single-parent family,
the resentment towards me, and the beautiful memories of her mother.

My daughter silently stood up and walked to the landscape painting, examining it closely. Her slender fingers traced the canvas.
In the center of the painting stood an ancient temple nestled amidst towering mountains. A waterfall cascaded down from the mountaintop, converging at the temple's
entrance to form a stream. Two ancient, leafy trees stood before the temple, and a young monk drew water from the stream,
his head gazing towards the ravine. A carriage was hidden among the overgrown weeds of the ancient road at the edge of the ravine. A well-dressed
man was intently driving, while a young woman sat behind the curtain, frequently peeking down at the ancient temple below.

My daughter studied the painting for a long time, and my heart remained heavy. Suddenly, my daughter turned to me, grinning, and said,
"No! I don't want to know. I'll ask you when you're no longer upset."

I stared at her, stunned, and finally felt a weight lifted from my heart. I
pointed the walk-in closet: "Go pick something out, everything in there was left for you by your mother. Hurry up and get dressed, let's go
have some fun!"

"Really?" My daughter looked at me incredulously.

"Of course! But you only have ten minutes, because I'll be dressed and ready to go in ten minutes, and Dad won't wait for you after
that ." I teased my daughter.

"Ah!" My daughter exclaimed, and "whoosh," she disappeared into the dark room behind the landscape painting...

A few minutes later, I was in the car counting down the time, waiting for my daughter to come downstairs. Women are all like that; when they see pretty clothes, they
forget about time, forget everything. I turned on the music and chose Xu Wei's "Once Upon a Time," the melancholic and poignant
voice slowly filling the entire car. Xu Wei, my wife and I used to love his singer the most. We longed for a life of wandering
the world , seeing the splendor of the world. In the end, my wife went without hesitation, while I remained mundane, living in
the present.

A series of knocks on the window startled me from my reverie. My daughter, a lollipop in her mouth,
looked at me with a smug smile, as if she'd caught me doing something wrong.

Before I could turn around, she pressed her finger against my face: "Don't look at me! Tell me, weren't you trying to
ditch me and go play by yourself? Luckily, I caught you. How about that, I'm fast, right?"

I stared straight ahead, speechless, and pleaded, "Alright! How could I leave you
behind and run away? I had to get you to your destination before slipping away, leaving you to take a taxi back alone." As I spoke, I pushed
her finger away and glanced at her outfit. She was still wearing her pink wool dress, but her stockings had been changed to thick black
ones, with petal-shaped patterns up to her thighs.

'Still doesn't look like a student,' I thought to myself. Since I'd agreed to let her choose for herself, I couldn't criticize her.
Besides, with me with her today, most thugs wouldn't dare approach her.

My daughter, wearing black round-toed leather shoes, immediately looked taller and more lively. The stockings
and shoes were left by my wife, and they fit her perfectly. I couldn't help but think to myself, my daughter has really grown up
. With a lollipop in her mouth, she looked excitedly eager, pointing ahead and shouting, "Go!
Go!" Hearing her cheers, I got excited too, stepped on the gas, and sped away.

We spent two hours at the zoo, which mainly featured rare animals like monkeys, tigers, and elephants. I take my daughter here seven or eight times
a year . Like her mother, she's very determined; once she likes
something, she'll do anything to get it, regardless of the cost. If she doesn't succeed, it stays in her memory
forever.

I watched the tiger snoring in its cage, occasionally licking its lips and wagging its tail. A dozen
or so children and their parents were shouting and teasing the tiger, trying to see the king of beasts in action,
but to no avail. The tiger continued sleeping soundly.

"Dad! Come here... come see the monkeys!" My daughter waved to me from the fence above the monkey enclosure,
throwing peanuts at the monkeys and calling out to me, having a great time. When she saw me slowly
approaching she started interacting with the monkeys.

The monkey mountain is an artificial hill, seven or eight meters high, with a reinforced
concrete . Dozens of monkey-shaped holes are built at the base of the wall to provide resting places for the monkeys to rest and reproduce.
To prevent escape, the wall is smooth and clean, offering no footholds.
A circular iron fence surrounds the ten-meter-high wall, with a suspended iron staircase leading up to it
. Looking at the dilapidated fence, I
couldn't help but .

Just then, I saw a young man pacing strangely under the fence, looking up at the sky. Following his gaze
upwards, I froze. Right above his head was my daughter's crotch—this guy was peeping under her
skirt ! Unfortunately, my daughter was wearing thick stockings today, so even looking up, I could only see a dark patch. I
chuckled to myself: He couldn't even pick a good season for peeping.

Just as I was about to step forward to stop her, I suddenly saw my daughter, amused by the monkey, jump
up . The rust and dust from the iron railing drifted down, landing squarely in the young man's eyes.
I watched him frantically brush away the rust and rub his eyes repeatedly, and I couldn't help but laugh.

At that moment, a refined woman strode up beside him. She gently removed his hand, used
her long, slender fingers to gently lift his eyelids, and pursed her full lips to blow on his eyes. Although her back
was to me, I could still sense that she was a beautiful and cultured woman.

Sometimes, you don't need to see a woman's face to judge her
refinement , from the way her hands swing, from her upturned arms, and from the way she gathers her wind-blown hair
—just like how I used to tell from the footsteps in the stairwell at night
whether it was my parents or a neighbor returning home.

The woman, her back to me, blew on the air for a while without any improvement. The man, however, wasn't in a hurry. He slipped his hands
inside her camel-colored coat, roaming up and down. The woman's cheeks flushed, but she didn't stop
him

. Her thighs, clad in flesh-colored stockings, trembled occasionally beneath the coat, and even her feet in red high-heeled boots seemed unsteady, as if she were about to faint. 'These two are really bold, acting so brazenly in the zoo in broad daylight,' I thought to myself
. I pretended to go to the monkey enclosure and secretly moved to their side. Just then, the man whispered
something in the woman's ear. She hesitated for a moment and opened her mouth. The man's right hand, which he had pulled out of her coat, was covered in
a clear liquid. He slowly put his hand into her mouth. The woman's eyes were glazed,
and her seemingly boneless body trembled violently. Her cheeks, holding the man's fingers, writhed, as if she were sucking on a delicious meal with extreme satisfaction.

After sucking for a while, the man withdrew his fingers and slipped them inside the woman's coat. The woman slowly offered her
saliva- , luscious tongue to him, gently flicking it before releasing her hands that had been pulling back his eyelids.

The man grinned, blinking frequently at his dust-filled left eye and rubbing it. As if nothing had happened, he put his arm around the woman
's slender waist and walked towards the peacocks, standing directly in front of a five- or six-year-old boy.

The woman smiled and stroked the boy's head. The boy, sensing her touch, turned and smiled at the woman
, about to run into her arms. Before she could pick him up, the man pulled the boy away and hid him behind
his back. The woman looked distressed, wanting to say something but remaining silent.

The man chuckled, holding the child's hand with his left hand and the woman's waist with his right, whispering
something in her ear. The woman looked up at the monkey mountain ahead, seemingly searching for something. Suddenly, the woman's head froze.
The man's lewd profile was so close to hers, as if he were about to bite her ear.

Perhaps it was due to my excessive caution and curiosity, but I followed closely,
never seeing the woman's face directly. Only one question lingered in my mind: this woman was so familiar; I couldn't
place her somewhere before.

"Dad, Dad~~ Come quick! The monkey is so cute!" Suddenly, my daughter raised her voice and waved at me.

The woman and man ahead turned around alertly, and only then did I clearly see the exquisite
woman 's true face.

"Rong!" I gasped, frozen in place, my eyes fixed on this beautiful woman; everything
else seemed to disappear. The woman also stared at me in surprise, her pale hand covering her gaping
mouth without uttering a sound. Neither of us approached the other. It all happened so suddenly; I
couldn't believe I'd meet her here—my wife, Rong!

The man, with one eye larger than the other, squinted at me for a moment, then at Rong, before a wicked grin spreading across his face as he pulled Rong
and the little boy away. I wanted to grab Rong, but I couldn't do anything. My hands and feet felt like they didn't belong
to me. I watched helplessly as the man took my wife away.

Suddenly, a hand tugged at my sleeve. I jolted awake and turned to see my daughter's
anxious face. She stared at me and asked, "Dad, what's wrong? Are you alright?" I shook my head dejectedly.
"No...nothing. I just saw a friend I haven't seen in years. Everyone said she was dead, but I didn't expect her to
be alive

...Oh! Dad, you didn't see it, but the little monkey was doing somersaults on my
command!" My daughter, clearly not paying much attention to the couple, launched into a long
story . Seeing that I was preoccupied, she went to eat at the back street after visiting the zoo and then rushed to Golden Time to take photos.

All the way there, I was filled with doubt and resentment. To avoid disappointing my daughter, I forced a smile and put on a brave face.

Golden Time is located at the intersection of Back Street and Renmin Road in the city center. These two streets are
bustling . Back Street is a food street, and Renmin Road is a shopping street, with all kinds of businesses extending from it. Golden
Time is owned by a friend of mine, which is why I dare to let women have their photos taken here without worrying about their
privacy being secretly recorded and posted online.

"Mr. Pu, you've arrived!" As soon as I entered Golden Time, Ms. Wang, whom I had only met once at the front desk,
greeted me very politely.

"I'm here!" I nodded and replied, "This is my daughter, Pu Xixi. Xixi, call me sister." I turned
to look at my daughter.

My daughter was overjoyed, staring at Ms. Wang: "Sister, where am I having my photoshoot? I can't wait!"

Ms. Wang was clearly ready, gesturing with her left hand: "Xixi, Mr. Lin has already arranged the best
photographer for you. Come with me." After saying that, Ms. Wang led us into the studio, but suddenly stopped at the entrance:
"Mr. Pu, Mr. Lin instructed that you must go to his office when you arrive. He's here now, do you want
to ..."

"Okay, I'll go then. Xixi is in your care. Xixi, you have to be good!" I gave them some instructions and then
went straight into Lin Rui's office.

Lin Rui was playing Dou Dizhu (a card game), and the room reeked of tobacco. I peeked into his ashtray, which was piled up like
a small mountain. When he saw me, he didn't stand on ceremony, pointing to the sofa and saying, "Brother, have a seat!" He immediately turned
off his computer, forced a smile, poured me a cup of tea, and sat down opposite me.

Normally, Lin Rui would chatter on and on whenever he saw me, making
up . But this time, he looked around nervously, rubbing his nose, then gave me a serious look before
looking down at his feet.

This happened several times, and I became suspicious. I moved closer to him, patted his
leg, and asked earnestly, "What's wrong? Rui, what happened? Tell me, brother." Lin Rui looked at me
blankly , as if he wanted to say something but hesitated, his head lowered even further.

Anxious, I slapped his thigh and yelled, "Just tell me already!"

"Brother, I saw your wife today!" Lin Rui pursed his lips, still keeping his head down.

(To be continued)

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【Longing Transforms into the Language of the Wutong Tree】(Part 1) Author: Heavenly Lone Star

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