If I Wait Thirty Years | Chapter 62 | Confession in the Grotto | Novela.app

Of course, he hadn't. Qiu Yun had hidden in such a remote place to sketch specifically to avoid Liang He. How could he have come looking for her knowing that? He had always been a man of consideration and boundaries. Thus, he simply stood upon that great boulder where he could see her, and for him, that was enough. Qiu Yun gazed at the yellowish rock, baked bare by the sun, devoid of grass or people. In her mind, she traced the phantom silhouette of Liang He standing there. In the days that followed, a swift and subtle shift occurred between them. It was like being in a crowd where one’s eyes would habitually drift, catching the other’s gaze by pure accident. It was as if they were looking for someone, yet also as if they didn't need to look at all. After a single moment of eye contact, they would return to their respective tasks. Everything around them proceeded as usual, as if that single glance had never happened. Some things lack a precise starting point or a milestone event. They change slowly, like a silent spring rain stealing into the night. Perhaps it happens upon waking one morning, or in the brief pause of a paintbrush; the two seemed to have reached a wordless understanding, a sort of telepathy shared by lovers. She thought she must be falling in love. Sima Qiu Yun had never been in a relationship. Although she never lacked suitors during her life in 2018, she had never met anyone who truly made her heart race. After graduation, Chen Liping had been relentless in setting her up on dates. Lin Shaohua was the one she had seen the longest and the last one before her time travel. To outsiders, they were officially "seeing each other," but if anyone had asked Qiu Yun if she loved him, she wouldn't have been able to say the word. Even "like" was difficult to utter. Lin Shaohua was decent-looking, had a good career, and came from a reliable family, but those merits had nothing to do with "love" or "affection." She didn't know what it was like to like someone, or what love was supposed to be. During the beautiful, green years when she should have been falling in love, a violent incident involving thugs had sent her father to prison and left her with a psychological aversion to men. To some extent, she had given up on her own emotions. She once thought that even if she stayed with Lin Shaohua until the end, it would merely be an account rendered to her father. Sometimes, she felt she viewed these matters with a cold, detached clarity. Romance seemed to have nothing to do with her; she even doubted her capacity to feel attraction toward the opposite sex. But all of this had quietly changed since she arrived in the world of 1987. When did it begin? Qiu Yun couldn't remember. But the only thing she was certain of was this— That day, he had wanted to kiss her, and she had not wanted to refuse. She had even... felt a shy sense of anticipation. Everything felt so natural, so inevitable. It was a truly wondrous feeling. It felt like... what did it feel like? It was like walking down an ordinary road and suddenly wanting to skip and hum a song. It was like hearing a cacophony of voices from afar, yet one specific voice drifted into your ears with singular distinction. And when you looked up toward that voice, you found the person your heart was tied to gazing deeply back at you. This subtle, electric sensation was interrupted by a torrential downpour over the weekend. The sky was overcast when they set out that morning. There was no sun, but it was stiflingly humid—the kind of weather where a few steps would leave one's back drenched in sweat. Wang Chen, fearing rain, suggested they choose a grotto not far from the village. This way, they were close to home, and even if the rain trapped them, they could take shelter inside and sketch the small Buddha statues. Once they picked their spot, Wang Chen took a bucket to the river to fetch water. Qiu Yun didn't plan on doing watercolors today. She intended to use pen and wash to do as many quick sketches as possible. She had just put two strokes to paper when a sudden crack of thunder shook the sky. A drop of rain fell on Qiu Yun’s nose. Then another, and another—faster and faster, hitting her drawing board and blurring the ink lines she had just drawn. From the distance, someone shouted, "It’s raining! It’s raining! We’re off for the day!" Qiu Yun hurriedly gathered their drawing boards and ran into the grotto. The moment she stepped inside, the rain poured down like a dam had burst, splashing mud across the ground in an instant. The brushes she hadn't managed to bring in were scattered outside, tossed about by the heavy drops. Qiu Yun looked out from the entrance. The world was a blur of white; she couldn't see a thing. Wang Chen had certainly called it right. Given the intensity, and since the river was closer to the village, she had likely run straight back. With that thought, Qiu Yun turned her attention to the interior of the grotto. As she looked around, she was stunned by the sheer number of statues. In the center stood a square central pillar, divided into three tiers from top to bottom. Each tier featured a seated Buddha in the center, surrounded by smaller statues with various expressions. All four sides of the pillar followed this design. Beyond the central pillar, the walls of the cave were densely packed from floor to ceiling with countless small Buddhas carved in concentric circles. It was a veritable kingdom of Buddhas. Qiu Yun stepped closer to examine the carvings. Due to their age and lack of maintenance, the colors on many of the lower statues had faded. Some were missing their heads—likely stolen—leaving only the pedestals. The statues higher up had fared better; the reds, greens, and golds were still visible, and their facial expressions remained lifelike. Just as Qiu Yun was lost in thought, a voice sounded behind her: "What are you looking at?" Qiu Yun spun around. At some point, a soaking wet Liang He had appeared in the cave, water dripping from his entire body. "How... how did you get here?" Qiu Yun was incredibly surprised. Everyone should have headed back to the village to seek shelter. Looking closer, she saw he had no umbrella; he was clutching a white shirt that was useless against such rain and was now dripping wet. Liang He answered a different question than the one asked: "The rain is too heavy." Qiu Yun didn't understand. "?" Liang He took two steps forward. "Let's wait out the rain together." Seeing his hair standing up in wet clumps, Qiu Yun didn't know what to say, so she managed a simple, "Oh." Half a second later, she remembered to ask, "You're so wet, are you okay?" She remembered the last time at the courtyard house when he had caught a high fever after getting caught in the rain. "It's not a big deal." Liang He wrung out his white shirt and draped it over an easel, then smoothed back his damp black hair. "It doesn't matter in the summer." Qiu Yun laughed. "Do you know what you looked like just now?" "Like what?" "Like a puppy that fell in the water and is shaking itself dry on the bank." Liang He laughed too, even mimicking the motion slightly. "A bit, I suppose." Qiu Yun laughed again. Liang He’s gaze fell upon the unfinished work on her easel—the ink had bled with the rainwater, creating a peculiar sort of artistic effect. Only then did Qiu Yun realize that when the rain started, everyone had been shouting about running back to the village. Liang He must have been nearby; he should have run back too. But the rain had been falling for a while now, and he had appeared here soaking wet without warning. What had he been doing all that time? "Were you looking for me?" The question slipped out of Qiu Yun’s mouth before she could stop it. The moment she asked, she felt the atmosphere shift minutely. Liang He turned toward her and gave a slight, candid smile. "Yes." With that "Yes," the air in the cave changed palpably. Qiu Yun pressed her lips together to hide a smile. Though she wanted to shamelessly ask "Why were you looking for me?", she feared that would be too bold. Instead, she asked, "How did you know I was here?" "I didn't." "...Then you..." "I just had to check them one by one." Qiu Yun glanced at him sideways. Liang He smiled again. "Luckily, you were in the fourth grotto." That subtle, electric feeling returned. Qiu Yun looked away. It was a rainy day, so why did his smile seem more dazzling than the sun? Or was it because the damp air was a better conductor for this electricity? "Oh." she murmured, focusing on her own thoughts, unsure of what to say. "Do you plan to draw the Buddhas here today?" Fortunately, Liang He didn't press the topic and looked around instead. "Yes. Wang Chen predicted before we left that if it rained, we’d come inside to draw." Qiu Yun found a slightly elevated stone and sat down. "I didn't expect her to be right. But once I got inside, I realized there are so many statues in this grotto." "There are indeed," Liang He nodded. "It's my first time in this one as well. This grotto likely belongs to the later period." "Later period?" "Yes. The early Yungang Grottoes focused on large statues, like the 'Five Grottoes of Tan Yao' that many people were drawing the other day. In the later period, these densely packed small Buddha grottos became popular. They feature central pillars, and the pillars and walls are covered in 'Thousand Buddha' niches. The style tends toward the delicate and ornate, with very fine details." Liang He examined the cave wall closely. "The Buddhas' clothing also features the 'Han-style' robes with wide sleeves and loose belts. Come look," Liang He beckoned to her. "These statues here are well-preserved. The texture and details of the garments are still visible. Don't they look like the 'thin bones and clear features' of the Southern Dynasty literati described in our art history books?" Qiu Yun leaned in. These statues were near the entrance where it was brighter, allowing her to see them more clearly. "So, this grotto should be from the late Southern Dynasty," Qiu Yun concluded. "Likely. Look at the second one on the left in the row above; it's even more obvious." Liang He discovered another spot. Qiu Yun widened her eyes to look. "Yes, you can even see the layers of the seated Buddha's hem. I know the large statues required wooden scaffolding and clay modeling—a very complex process. But what about these small ones? Were they carved directly into the cave? How could they be so precise?" Qiu Yun didn't receive an immediate answer. She tilted her head and found Liang He very, very close to her, his breath nearly audible. Qiu Yun swallowed nervously. "Hmm?" Liang He snapped out of it slightly, letting out a soft, "Ah?" "That..." Qiu Yun’s eyes suddenly caught something behind Liang He. "What's that?" "Hmm?" "There’s writing there." Qiu Yun hopped forward two steps as if escaping. Sure enough, there was a line of ink on the cave wall: *The Buddha views the world with compassion,* *I behold the Tathagata through joy.* Below it was a signature, faintly indicating the Daoguang era of the Qing Dynasty, though the name was illegible. "No way," Qiu Yun said, as if discovering a new continent. "Is this a 'was here' from someone in the Qing Dynasty?" Liang He followed her, looked closely, and laughed. "How is your eyesight so good?" "I guess the ancients liked doing this too." Qiu Yun laughed with him. "Does this count as damaging a cultural relic? I wonder if anyone fined him back then." "This area was desolate during the Qing Dynasty. Anyone who came here was either a devout Buddhist or a fugitive." "You know that too?" "I'm guessing." "It makes sense, though," Qiu Yun nodded. "Probably a Buddhist; the calligraphy is quite formal. What do those two lines mean?" "The Buddha views the world with compassion, I behold the Tathagata through joy..." Liang He pondered the words. " 'Guanzizai' is another name for the Buddha, and 'Rulai' is the Tathagata..." Liang He realized that despite studying Buddhism with Chen Jingtao for so long, it was still hard to explain the meaning in just a few words. He tried to summarize: "These two lines are a couplet expressing a single idea. Roughly, it means one should face the world with a broad, cheerful, and calm mind... one must learn to observe oneself, know oneself, and follow one's heart..." After saying those last words, he paused slightly and gestured to the right. "What's that?" Standing to his left, Qiu Yun naturally looked toward the right. But Liang He didn't look right; instead, he leaned down in the opposite direction— And kissed Qiu Yun on the lips. *Boom.* She didn't know if it was the distant thunder or her own brain exploding. After a brief, tentative touch, Liang He reached out and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. The rain stopped, the wind died down, and the three thousand Buddhas began to whisper. Was it him? It was him! But she... She had forgotten the past and the future, forgotten her own name, forgotten everything around her. She could only feel the warmth of the person before her, radiating through his damp clothes. After an unknown amount of time, they pulled apart slightly. Liang He rested his forehead against hers, his gaze soft and deep. Qiu Yun’s heart hammered like a drum, her eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a panicked butterfly. For some reason, a scene from a drama she'd seen on Bilibili flashed through her mind, and a sentence of bashful reproach slipped out before she could think: "The Buddhas are watching..." Liang He’s breath fell lightly upon her. "The Buddha wants us to follow our hearts." He paused. "Xiao Yun, I like you." ---