Chapter 25 postscript

In retrospect, I have also been to several capitals. The streets of London in summer are beautiful under the sun. Today I am still reminiscing about the afternoon at the Covent Garden market; when surrounded by high capitalism in Tokyo, I seem to have witnessed the end of human civilization; the small hotel building where I stayed in Phnom Penh Below, there are a pair of naked children sleeping in the street; Bangkok is a sweet dream that I often dream about; my stay in Washington is too short, and the only impression I have is: the capital of the "world's greatest country", the streets are like parks Full of homeless...

It is always Paris that makes me feel the grandeur of the capital.Louvre and Versailles.People have gone, but the building is still there.The former shows me the vigor of a country and nation in its most youthful and lively period; the latter allows me to witness the luxury and decadence of a dynasty after its prosperity.I stood in the Palace of Mirrors in Versailles and looked out the window. I saw the huge royal garden that seemed to have no end, and I deeply felt the meaning of "authority". It's our Beijing, I'm ashamed, I haven't been there yet.I have seen many photos of the Forbidden City from magazines and newspapers, and my deepest impression is that it is very gloomy inside.

When I was young, I thought that the world was very complicated, that every adult must have thousands of thoughts in his head to survive, that thinking things in a complicated direction is maturity, that is, "jianghu experience". It turned out to be a trick played by adults. I love summer and the feeling of sweating in the sun. For two consecutive years in the middle of summer, I walked with many people—really “many people”—on the streets in the sun, sweating and walking for a while. We didn't actually win anything, but I had a sense of victory: that special day, monopolized for so long by those in the air-conditioned venue with champagne glasses and gold medals pinned to their chests, was finally Those of us who sweat and walk on our feet have taken it back; we have told the world in the simplest, purest and most visible way: this city belongs to us.

The Delifrance in Central Pacific Plaza closed down a few months ago. I have forgotten which year it started. When I was too bored writing at home (usually in the afternoon), I wanted to write outside, and I often chose there.The main reason is that the place of that family is very large, and there must be a table, and it will not hinder people from doing business (because I often sit for hours at a time).The lighting and air conditioning are just right, and there is a row of large glass windows that let in the sunlight.The food was good too - don't take me for a foodie on this one though.

Over the years, many chapters of "Killing Zen" and "The Vampire Hunter's Journal" were written in that restaurant; the first lyrics (Lu Qiaoyin's "Cohabiting Corner") were also written there. After it graduated, I rarely wrote outside.I don't feel very sad, just a little nostalgic, and I want to say thank you to it. "Thank you" for a place seems to be an awkward way to say it, but it is my truest feeling. Qiao Jingfu July 7, 2004