Shuangye Isle is a small island covered in vast stretches of maple forests. When autumn arrives, the season when everything begins to wither, the entire island appears as if soaked in red watercolor, with maple leaves turning crimson—a truly spectacular sight.
The island’s name ‘Shuangye (Autumn Leaves)’ in Shuangye Isle originates from the poem: ‘Stopping my carriage I must, as to admire the maple forest at nights fall. In awe of autumn leaves showing more red than even flowers of early spring.[mfn]停車坐愛楓林晚，霜葉紅於二月花 (Tíng chē zuò ài fēng lín wǎn, shuāng yè hóng yú èr yuè huā): Stopping my carriage I must, as to admire the maple forest at nights fall. In awe of autumn leaves showing more red than even flowers of early spring. Excerpt from Mountain Travels Poem by Du Mu: 遠處寒山石徑斜，白雲生處有人家。停車坐愛楓林晚，霜葉紅於二月花。, Far away on Cold Mountain, a stone path leads upwards. Among white clouds, people’s homes reside. Stopping my carriage I must, as to admire the maple forest at nights fall. In awe of autumn leaves showing more red than even flowers of early spring. More information: Link 1, Link 2.
[/mfn]’.
Xie An’yu had lived on Shuangye Isle for eighteen years, but now, he might have to leave.
Mid-spring was prime fishing season with pleasant temperatures, attracting many tourists to Shuangye Isle. As the sun set, Xie An’yu saw off the last group of tourists and collected his day’s wages from the boss based on the day’s catch.
At eighteen, Xie An’yu didn’t attend school nor own a fishing boat. He made his living by helping tourists fish on others’ boats.
Xie An’yu doesn’t have a smartphone or a bank card, which the fishing boat employer finds a bit inconvenient when it was time to pay his wages. Although half the islanders on Shuangye Isle still used cash, they were mostly elderly people. The younger generation, however, all have smartphones and bank cards.
The boss handed Xie An’yu an envelope stuffed with red banknotes, his damp fingers leaving wrinkled watermarks on the paper. Clenching a cigarette between his teeth, he grumbled to Xie An’yu: “An’yu, when are you getting a bank account? It doesn’t cost much to get one. Preparing cash for you every time is such a hassle.”
Xie An’yu’s wages were paid daily, with the amount depending on the quantity of fish caught for clients. The more fish caught, the more the boss earned, and the larger Xie An’yu’s commission.
The boss jokingly threatened him, “If you don’t open an account by next week, watch out, I might not even give you your money!”
Xie An’yu tucked the envelope into his pocket and said, “Uncle Wang, I might not come next week.”
“What? Why?” The boss froze, cigarette still dangling from his lips.
Although Xie An’yu was young, the youngest employee here, and strictly speaking he was still a child laborer two years ago, his fishing skills were first-rate, and he was also good-looking. The tourists who came here to play and hadn’t planned to go fishing on the boat would often change their minds and decide to hop on the boat to have some fun when they saw such a handsome young man among the ‘fishing assistants’.
In short, Xie An’yu had earned him a lot of money; he was his ‘gold-medal employee’. Of course, he was reluctant to let him go.
“Family matters,” Xie An’yu replied.
“What’s the matter? What happened??” Wang Zhiwu flicked cigarette ash onto the ground. He thought to himself, didn’t Xie An’yu’s grandmother just get buried recently? Both of his parents were long gone, and now his elderly grandmother was gone. He was all alone; what other worries could he possibly have at home?
Unwilling to elaborate, Xie An’yu shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll head back now.”
He has this personality, he doesn’t talk much, doesn’t like to talk about his own affairs, and is a bit stubborn. Since he’d already said so, even talking till their tongues fell out probably wouldn’t change his decision. Wang Zhiwu clicked his tongue, stubbed out his cigarette and didn’t press further. Instead, he handed Xie An’yu a fresh sea bass before parting.
“Take this fish home.” Wang Zhiwu shoved a plastic bag filled with water into Xie An’yu’s hand; the fish inside was still very lively. He clicked his tongue again, his voice sounding a little resentful, “Come back if you can.”
“Thank you, Uncle Wang.”
The sun had set, and the fishermen at the pier were packing up their gear, ready to go home. The pier at dusk was beautiful; with the sunset’s full descent visible where the sea met the sky. However, Xie An’yu saw this sight almost every day, so it no longer struck him as extraordinary—though he never found it any less beautiful.
Sunrise and sunset, he came with the morning glow and returned bathed in the evening hues every day. Such scenes were ordinary to him, but that ordinariness held a kind of beauty too.
There were a few tourists taking photos by the shore. Xie An’yu, carrying the fish, saw Ding Xiaofei running from the other side of the sea in the distance.
A few scattered tourists were taking photos by the shore shore. Xie An’yu, carrying the fish, saw Ding Xiaofei running toward him from the other side of the beach.
At this hour, Ding Xiaofei would just be getting out of school. Ding Xiaofei was Xie An’yu’s childhood friend. He hadn’t scored well enough on the college entrance exams to study off the island, so he enrolled in the local vocational high school on Shuangye Isle. Partly because his grades weren’t good enough, and partly because his family ran a small restaurant. They hoped he would stay on the island to inherit the restaurant in the future, so he applied to the only vocational high school on the island.
Few children from Shuangye Isle could leave the island to attend university elsewhere—only those who were either exceptionally wealthy or had exceptionally good. But very few met either condition. For many, the resources they were born with determined their future from the start. Xie An’yu was among those ‘many’.
Few children from Shuangye Islet left to attend universities on the mainland—only those who were exceptionally wealthy or academically gifted. But very few met either condition. For many, the resources they were born with determined their future from the start. Xie An’yu was among those “many.”
Xie An’yu often wondered what his future would be like, but he never had a clear answer. For him, simply living well was enough of a future.
Xie An’yu was only wearing a black tank top, which made Ding Xiaofei involuntarily shrink his neck. Although Shuangye Isle had a mild climate, it was only early April, and the lingering chill of early spring still hung in the air.
However, Xie An’yu was resistant to cold. He had a lean and strong physique, with clear muscle lines visible when he exerted his arms. Having fished at sea year-round, doing physical labor, exposed to wind and sun, his skin had turned a healthy wheat color.
Ding Xiaofei was 177cm tall, not short by any means among their peers, but standing next to Xie An’yu, he looked significantly shorter. Though they were the same age, Ding Xiaofei had no idea what Xie An’yu had eaten to grow so tall.
Sweat beaded along his temples, sliding down Xie An’yu’s short-cropped hair. Xie An’yu wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.
Ding Xiaofei got straight to the point: “Xiao Dao[mfn]小島 (Xiǎo Dǎo): lit. Little Isle. T/N: I’m guessing this is Xie An’yu’s nickname, because the yu 嶼 (yǔ) in Xie An’yu 謝安嶼 (Xiè Ānyǔ) name mean islet. 小 (xiǎo) means small/little, usually used as a term of endearment to express familiarity and closeness, especially towards someone younger or of a similar age; much like adding Ah 阿 (ā) in front of someone’s name or adding Er 儿 (ér) behind someone’s name.[/mfn], I asked my dad yesterday. He said you should find a lawyer—they’d definitely know how to handle this kind of thing. At the very least, you should be able to get some compensation back.”
The area where Xie An’yu lived was slated for demolition.
Shuangye Isle was sparsely populated and had long been economically underdeveloped. In the last two years, however, with the rise of tourism, the islanders’ living conditions had gradually improved. Xie An’yu’s home was located very close to the coast, with beautiful scenery. A developer had seen the business opportunity and planned to develop it into a resort village.
Xie An’yu had only learned about his home being demolished a month ago. Although there had been rumors circulating on the island for a while, they were all hearsay, and no one knew if the news was true, so Xie An’yu hadn’t paid much attention.
It was only after everything was settled that he found out his second uncle had already taken it upon himself to sign the demolition agreement without consulting him. He hadn’t even had a chance to consider it, let alone raise an objection.
The process was extremely fast. Before Xie An’yu could prepare, he received the eviction notice.
He was about to lose his home.
The old houses back then were all self-built and didn’t have property deeds. The house Xie An’yu currently lives in was built by his grandfather when he was young. According to his second uncle, since the house was built by his father, it should rightfully be his property, and he could naturally decide how to use it as he pleased.
Because there was no property deed, the legal ownership of the house was ambiguous. His second uncle indeed had the right to sign the demolition agreement.
Xie An’yu handed the fish to Ding Xiaofei and said, “Where would I get the money to hire a lawyer?”
Ding Xiaofei glanced inside the bag. “You’re giving this to me?”
Xie An’yu hummed in affirmation and kept walking. Ding Xiaofei followed beside him. “I could borrow money from my dad.”
“Hiring a lawyer isn’t something that costs just a few hundred yuan[mfn]T/N: Actually, XAY said kuai 塊 (kuài) here; an informal reference for unit of currency. The closest English translation I could think of is ‘buck’. The locals pretty much never use ‘yuan’ in everyday conversation. They use ‘kuai’ instead.[/mfn].”
Ding Xiaofei fell silent.
“And what if hiring a lawyer doesn’t help? The money would just be wasted.”
After a few seconds of silence, Ding Xiaofei cursed under his breath. “Your second uncle is such a scumbag. Not only did he secretly signed it behind your back, but he also wants to keep all the compensation money for himself. Is he even human?”
The compensation money had already been disbursed before the demolition notice was issued, and the money naturally went into Xie An’yu’s second uncle’s account.
Xie An’yu usually had almost no contact with his second uncle’s family. He accepted the demolition matter, and he had gone to his second uncle’s house to argue about the compensation money. His second uncle and aunt, a couple, played good cop, bad cop—one claimed the house was originally his family’s property and he could dispose of it as he pleased, while the other said their family was struggling financially and owed a lot of debt. In short, there was no house left, and no money either.
His second uncle was a gambling addict, drowning in debt. Now that he had finally received this compensation money, how could he be willing to spit it out?
Ding Xiaofei grew more infuriated the more he thought about it, feeling like his chest was about to explode. He tightly clutched the plastic bag in his hand and said gloomily, “No house, no money—where are you going to live from now on? Your area is about to be demolished soon, right? Why don’t you stay at my place for now?”
Xie An’yu didn’t respond. After all, they weren’t relatives, so he couldn’t possibly just move into Ding Xiaofei’s home. Even if he stayed temporarily to ease the immediate crisis, what then? Where would he go after that? Ding Xiaofei was just a friend—helping him was a kindness. If Xie An’yu didn’t manage the extent well, that kindness could turn into a burden, both for Xiaofei and for himself.
“We’ll see,” Xie An’yu said. “There’s still some time.”
“Ugh, how can your second uncle be such a beast? You’re still related by blood—how could he do something like this?”
“Xiaofei, blood ties don’t determine everything.”
When Xie An’yu’s parents were still alive, they had given his second uncle plenty of financial support, and at that time, their family still had contact with his second uncle’s family. After his parents passed away, his second uncle visited less and less. Later, when he found out Xie An’yu was earning a lot of money helping tourists fish on the boat, he shamelessly came to borrow money a few times—until his grandmother chased him out with a broom. After that, he never stepped foot in their house again.
The night wind was a bit cold. Xie An’yu sniffed, and Ding Xiaofei glanced at him: “Why didn’t you even bring a jacket? It’s windy at night. Come eat at my house tonight, we’ll cook this fish, and while we’re at it, let’s talk to my dad, see if there’s any other way. The house can’t be saved, but we definitely need to figure out how to get some of that money back.”
“He’s probably already used all that money to pay off his gambling debts.” Xie An’yu said, looking down at his dusty sneakers. “Xiaofei, I want to leave the island.”
Ding Xiaofei was taken aback. “You’re… leaving?”
“Mm.”
“Don’t, let’s think of another way. What will I do if you leave? Where would I even find you later?” Ding Xiaofei grew more and more depressed. He and Xie An’yu had grown up playing together. When he was a child, he was often sick and developed late, remaining small and skinny, often bullied by older troublemakers. Xie An’yu had helped him countless times.
“I no longer have a home here.”
Ding Xiaofei blurted out, “But you don’t have one outside the island either—” He immediately clamped his mouth shut. “I didn’t mean it like that… I mean, can you really bear to leave? You’ve lived here for so many years, since you were a child.”
How could he bear it? His parents and grandmother had spent their entire lives on this land too—even the wind and rain here carried traces of them.
Xie An’yu said, “I can barely make ends meet. How can I even afford to think about whether I can bear to leave or not? Besides, I still have debts to repay.”
The funeral expenses for his grandmother had been borrowed, and he’d also taken small loans from various islanders over time for her medical treatment and medicine. He needed to pay it back as soon as possible.
“Sweetheart, you must live well from now on”—these were his grandmother’s last words to him, whispered in his ear before she passed. Her voice was very soft, her eyes bright—the clearest they’d been since she fell ill.
Their shadows stretched long in the setting sun, cast upon the ground. Ding Xiaofei looked at the shadow on the ground that was towering over his own and nodded. “Then go. There are more opportunities to earn money outside, and the wages are definitely higher than on our island.”
The word ‘Demolish’ was already painted in red on the walls of his house. Inside, it was cold and desolate. In the first few days after his grandmother passed, Xie An’yu felt as if he could still hear her calling ‘Sweetheart’, ‘Sweetheart’ in his ears. But as time passed, even those illusions faded.
The landline phone rang—only one person ever called this number.
Xie An’yu picked up the receiver: “Auntie.”
“Ah, An’yu, have you had dinner yet?”
“Yes.”
“Is your house being demolished? What’s going on?”
Xie An’yu paused. “How did you know?”
“Your second uncle borrowed money from me before. I needed the money back recently and went to ask him for it. He gave it to me without a word. I wondered where he got the money—only after pressing did he finally admit it was demolition compensation. Is your house being torn down?”
Xie An’yu gave a muffled affirmation. For some reason, hearing his aunt’s voice made the buried grievances slowly welled up in his heart.
“Then where will you live after this? How much compensation did you get?”
Xie An’yu glanced at his grandmother’s photo on the cabinet and said, “I don’t know yet.” He said, avoiding the second question.
“When is the demolition?”
“Soon.”
Xie Li knew perfectly well what kind of person her second younger brother was. She asked Xie An’yu directly: “An’yu, tell Auntie honestly, is your second uncle not planning on letting you stay with him?”
Xie An’yu didn’t directly answer her question, only saying: “Auntie, I’m planning to leave the island.”
Xie Li raised her voice: “Xie Jianxing truly isn’t going to take care of you? That scoundrel! What about the demolition compensation? Did he not give you any of that either?”
Xie An’yu didn’t know how to respond. Nothing he said would change things—his aunt was far off the island and couldn’t possibly help him seek justice.
Xie An’yu remained silent. Xie Li, seeing his lack of response, understood the situation. She bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, then softly said: “An’yu, come to Beicheng and stay with Auntie.”
Xie An’yu sat on the wooden stool, gently rubbed his index finger twice on his sweatpants, and after a few seconds of quiet, he finally asked: “Is that okay?”
“Can I really come to you?”
The author has something to say:
Long time no see, everyone. This is a slower-paced story, and I hope you’ll enjoy it. Wishing you all a wonderful spring.
Picking up a new novel!! I hope you’ll enjoy the story~
If you notice any error, please notify me. Thank you, and I hope you’ll enjoy this story!
[dropdown title=”List of Idiom in Chapter 01″]
後顧之憂 (hòu gù zhī yōu): lit. fear of disturbance in the rear; fears of trouble in the rear (idiom); family worries (obstructing freedom of action); trouble back at home; worries about the future consequences; often in negative expressions, meaning “no worries about anything”; worrying about problems happening behind the scenes while moving forward.見怪不怪 (jiàn guài bù guài): to keep one’s calm in the face of the unexpected; not to wonder at strange sights; not be surprised by anything unusual; become inured to the unusual; be used to uncommon goings-on.
三三兩兩 (sān sān liǎng liǎng): in twos and threes; by twos and threes; in knots； in small groups; in crowds; two or three people together, describes a scattered group.
春寒料峭 (chūn hán liào qiào): there is a chill in the spring air; there is a chill in the air in early spring; the early spring weather is chilly; slight spring chill; describe the coldness of early spring.
風吹日曬 (fēng chuī rì shài): (idiom) to be exposed to the elements; weatherbeaten; endure the wind and sun; face the rigors of nature; refers to things being exposed to strong winds and scorching sun without shelter.
地廣人稀 (dì guǎng rén xī): vast territory with a sparse population; vast but thinly/sparsely populated.
捕風捉影 (bǔ fēng zhuō yǐng): lit. to catch the wind and seize the shadows; chasing the wind and clutching at shadows (idiom); to make groundless accusations; to grasp at straws; to act on hearsay evidence; chase shadows; pursue phantoms; groundless; baseless; make unfounded accusations; fabricate stories; imagine things; it means to catch the wind or the shadow. It later refers to something that is impossible to do. It is a metaphor for saying or doing things without a definite factual basis, which is like making trouble out of nothing.
自作主張 (zì zuò zhǔ zhāng): to think for oneself and act accordingly (idiom); to act on one’s own initiative; to make decisions without consulting others beforehand; refers to the act of making decisions without the consent of superiors or relevant parties.
非親非故 (fēi qīn fēi gù): lit. (of two people) to be neither relatives nor friends (idiom); unrelated to one another in any way; no relation; no kinship; no ties; not related by blood or marriage; strangers; specifically refers to old friendships, and the overall emphasis is on interpersonal relationships that are neither blood-related nor old acquaintances. Its core meaning refers to the dual alienation of interpersonal relationships.
燃眉之急 (rán méi zhī jí): lit. the fire burns one’s eyebrows (idiom); extreme urgency; desperate situation; extreme emergency; urgent matter; pressing problem; immediate crisis. It originally meant that the situation was as urgent as a fire burning one’s eyebrows. Later, it was commonly seen in classics and the works of modern and contemporary writers. It is often used to describe personal dilemmas or social or political emergencies that need to be resolved.
冷冷清清 (lěng lěng qīng qīng): cold and cheerless; desolate; lonely; deserted.
無濟於事 (wú jì yú shì): to no avail; of no use; does not help the matter; to no effect; useless; futile; unhelpful; ineffective; in vain; not worth a straw; to be of no help at all, a metaphor for being unable to solve a problem.
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