As a child, I was captivated by the wonders of nature and the allure of the unknown. My fascination with the world around me extended to the realm of fantasy, where I devoured stories of resurrected ancient creatures, extraterrestrial beings, futuristic robots, bioengineered clones, ninjas, and Eastern cultivation tales. These fantastical narratives not only held a mirror to human nature and warned of the potential dangers of technology but also offered a sense of escapism and the freedom to transcend the limitations of our physical existence.

Vivid memories of stargazing under a blackout and watching the clouds dance across the mountaintop after a rain shower still linger in my mind. These moments of tranquility and beauty are deeply etched in my consciousness.

Often, these scenes of serenity and romance depict two individuals nestled together on a rooftop under the starry sky, or perhaps under a tree or by a riverbank. Yet, my own recollections of such picturesque settings often involve a solitary figure.

Recently, a fanfiction author friend and I engaged in a deep night chat about BL (Boys’ Love) novels and role-playing setting, plots and teenage romance. Her ability to craft intricate character dialogues, delve into psychological depths, paint vivid environmental descriptions, and weave complex emotional threads and narrative progressions left me in awe. In contrast, my own story ideas often resemble the solitary adventures of Robinson Crusoe.

In recent years, I have endeavored to broaden my literary horizons by exploring various genres, including fairy tales, young adult fantasy, coming-of-age stories, science fiction, and non-fiction. However, I have largely avoided romance novels. Perhaps in the future, I will venture into this genre as well, compiling a list of recommendations that might include titles such as “Twilight,” “Looking for Alaska,” and “Message in a Bottle.”

This reflection also prompts me to acknowledge the vast expanse of Japanese literature that remains uncharted before me. The works of Haruki Murakami, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, and Yasunari Kawabata, as well as more recent literary award-winners, have yet to grace my bookshelf. Similarly, my foray into Chinese literature has primarily focused on non-fiction works. While I am familiar with the names of authors like Shi Tiesheng and Bai Xianyong, their literary creations remain unexplored.

I jot down these thoughts, hoping that one day, years from now, I will revisit this reflection and recall the genesis of this newfound literary curiosity, ignited by a friend who has left an indelible mark on my heart. These rare moments of unburdened, late-night conversations are truly precious and bring immense joy.