The first time I read about Xiao Yu, the only line I highlighted was: “He will succeed.” Compared with Qing, Xiao Yu is not someone who tells stories—his story can only be told through Qing. Yet his very existence, and the deconstruction he embodies, brings a vivid brightness to the entire novel.
If I were to choose a single phrase to describe Xiao Yu, it would be “a man of the world.” But his worldliness is pure, even innocent. He is never constrained by those around him, nor by his environment. He moves forward relentlessly in pursuit of his dreams. He loves the glitter of Tokyo, yet no reader would call him vain. He wants to climb higher, yet no reader would see him as worldly. For passion never goes out of style—so it was in 1970, and so it is today.
Sadly, we seem to encounter less and less of this sincerity in our daily lives. Perhaps it is because, as more people become entangled, fewer remain steadfast. The pursuit of a dream is sincere; the pursuit of the pursuit itself is not.