Ms. Nanhui:

Hello, I have taken the liberty to write you this letter, and I am sorry for that. I'm the owner of Seagull Café, the man who sits on the couch next to the counter all day. I will tell you the reason for this letter slowly.

Early Summer

On an early summer night, the heat escapes into the breeze and mixes with the sound of the wind. On Qiyun Road in front of the cafe, nearby residents occasionally walk leisurely, and the street lights lengthen their shadows. You opened the door and walked in, carrying the refreshing atmosphere of summer. Your clothes were simple, your long black hair fell down softly, and your face without makeup was very elegant. You ordered a cup of espresso, walked to the bookshelf and searched for a book, bringing your face very close to it. When the coffee was brought to you, you had already sat down and looked at a certain page of the book quietly. I glanced at it and it read:

Sidheim Manor,

Nerbik,

West Flanders

June 29, 1931

Sixsmith:

…

The letters of the young British composer Robert Frobisher in "Cloud Atlas" are my favorite part of the book. Healthy people, he said, cannot understand depleted, incomplete people. This talented man, with a perfect soul and his spiritual partner Sixsmith, created the peerless Cloud Atlas Sextet. What a happy man! I admire him, even if he can only be a firework that dissipates in the atmosphere, he will be willing to spend his life just to bloom in the dark night sky.

Up to this point, I haven’t used any code words, Miss Nanhui. In life, I tend to surround myself with some kind of protective force. It seems that I have never really loved a woman (at best, I have a good impression, under the influence of hormones), and interacting with them is like walking aimlessly on a road with everyone, but I don’t know where I am going. In order to avoid the suspicion of being "frivolous", I'd better be a solitary person. The purpose of choosing the most convenient survival philosophy to create the purest personality system is to avoid the "skin-cutting pain" of self-understanding. It was as if I had taken time away from myself so easily and was willing to hide in the armor of nothingness, thus mistreating myself and continuing.

You always come to Seagull Cafe to read on Friday nights or the morning and afternoon of weekends. Every time I bring you coffee, I will see you quietly reading the letters from Sidhelm, reading the letters one date at a time, and then reading other books. In this way, day by day, until I have read all the letters, I start all over again. Why do this? Have you also been struck by sentences like "You will grunt and object and shake your head, Sixsmith, I know, but you will also smile, and that's why I like you" again and again.

Your usual seat is next to the floor-to-ceiling window, and I can just see you. On sunny days, you look very light and shallow, as if you will disappear if you don't pay attention. It's hard to express my inner feelings at this time. I don't know, Miss Nanhui, your silent, faint, and consistent sense of persistence in something has made me unable to look away.

Qiu

I don’t know when, but the frequency of seeing you once or twice a week became a little unbearable for me. On a drizzly night with few guests, the sound of Stan Getz's saxophone came from the record player, making people feel confused. I flipped through the book in my hand carelessly, getting more and more annoyed as I read it. Finally, I pushed the door open and went out. Without even bothering to say hello to the store clerk, I took an umbrella and walked into the cool air of the rainy night. I walked aimlessly, letting my senses take over my body, a body that I could no longer control. I can't help but think about the way you sit by the window. Maybe I really need a friend like you? You know this will never be the true feeling in my heart, but my stubborn nature temporarily blinded me.

Many windows in the tall office building are lit with lights.

How many people in this world have hormones so high that they want to explode. They want to devote themselves, love someone or do a job. However, the most passionate part cannot find an outlet, cannot express, cannot bloom like fireworks, and cannot be with each other. Worlds merge. I was so powerful but couldn't get a response, couldn't find anything to devote myself to, so I was confused and refused to give in.

Now it seems that I am no different from these people. A restless thing has grown in my dry chest, and it is twisting and bumping in my body, making me unable to live in peace.

Under the soft light of the street lamp opposite, I seemed to see your figure, maybe I was hallucinating. I stared at that illusion and refused to leave, until I realized it was really you. Miss Nanhui, I saw you on the dark sidewalk in the rain. You were dressed as if you had just come out of the company. You should be working nearby. I knew nothing about you. But it doesn't matter, I love plots without premeditation.

The fine rain falls on your umbrella, and the restless thing in my body seems to be satisfied and no longer torments me crazily. You stood with your feet crossed, changing sides from time to time. You glanced at your phone and put it back in your bag, staring at the wet ground in trance, as if you were indifferent to the world. A black car stops in front of you, with a young man sitting in the driver's seat. Your face finally showed an expression, you smiled helplessly and affectionately, got into the passenger seat, and soon the car drove away.

Miss Nanhui, I don’t feel sorry. To be able to miss someone silently, in other places in the world, without asking for anything in return or companionship. That thought is always so clear and bright, which is the best blessing.

The next Saturday afternoon, you came to the Seagull Cafe as usual. The color of your lipstick was very beautiful that day, and it looked great against your bright eyes and white teeth. You continue to read the letter from Sidhelm. I wonder what it would be like to live with you. Kisses and cute kids every morning at six? I had never thought about marriage and had no experience living with a woman. I can handle cleaning the house, doing the laundry and cooking, and there is nothing wrong with having a home without a woman. I don’t know what kind of life you live, but one thing I know is that I don’t own you.

Late Autumn

I think I am sick.

For a month, I didn’t go to the cafe, and the clerk took care of it. I don’t go out, so I order takeout when I’m hungry. The house is not cleaned, and the beard is unkempt. I think I am escaping from myself and thinking about you. It doesn't matter, I really feel that I have no hope of life.

I dreamed of you, dreamed that we were sitting under the moonlight, sitting on opposite ends of the bench, not talking. Just when you were about to turn around, I woke up. I sat up in the darkness, saw the light coming from the window of the resident opposite through the gap in the curtain, and felt reassured.

The next day I got up early, took a shower, shaved, made myself a breakfast, made the house as tidy as before, and then went to the Seagull Cafe. The clerk said that a customer had left me a note. I opened it and read it. It was written in clear fonts:

I heard from the store that you are sick, and I hope you recover soon.

Another: The Seagull Cafe seems to have lost its soul without you.

Nanhui

Nanhui, I recite silently. This is your handwriting, and I feel inexplicably sure about it.

We carry our own stories and think we have never met in every corner of this city. The person you passed by belonged to the cafe you went to, and he also sat on the bench you sat on in the park. I wake up in a different place every day, but I am lost in the same place. I just don’t know when I will walk into the other person’s life.

Miss Nanhui, if this is the case, I think I would be willing to accept all of this person instead of just loving the part I like.

Winter

The days are back to being as sparse and normal as before. I spend time in my cafe every day and you still come every week. We seemed to be doing our own things in tacit agreement, without talking to each other, and quietly aware of each other's presence. Even though we don't exist together in that sense, I feel satisfied. I was frightened and excited at the same time.

The weather is getting colder and colder, and you always go outside and talk to people on the phone, as if you are arguing about something.

One evening with heavy rain, it was a working day, and you arrived suddenly. You didn't hold an umbrella, and the drizzle made your hair wet, like a beautiful creature living under the water. I'm happy for your arrival, but I feel vaguely uneasy. I can't ask you. You ordered a cup of hot coffee and found a seat in the corner to sit down. You didn't go to the bookshelf to pick up a book, but just picked at the edge of the tissue. I toasted a few pieces of toast and brought them over with the coffee. You were stunned for a moment, then looked up and smiled at me and said thank you.

Just as you were about to walk away, you suddenly said, "Sit with me for a while." It was still the same tired smile.

I sat down opposite.

"How long has this cafe been open?" You picked up the cup and took a sip of coffee.

"Well... it's been almost three years." My throat was a little dry.

“The first time I came here, I felt like we were old friends at first sight. I don’t know why, but I always felt that everything here already had an outline in my mind, which gave me a sense of belonging.”

"This cafe is my hard work. I am very happy that you feel comfortable here."

"But I don't know if you will come again in the future." You slowly vomited. On the edge of the company, "I came to this city for a man. Now the relationship is over, the work has not been done for a long time, and I have no friends. I feel that this kind of life is coming to an end."

After a moment of silence, I I called the clerk to add some hot water. "I..." I stroked the texture of the glass, made up my mind, and looked directly into your eyes, "I hope you stay."

Silence again.

You finished the toast and turned to look out the window. "The rain has stopped." Then you turned to look at me. "Thank you for the toast. You are so kind. We are almost here." It has become my refuge." You smiled to yourself.

"Goodbye." You stood up to pay and leave.

I was stunned for a while, and soon I suddenly woke up. I quickly closed the store door, ran out by mistake, and quietly followed you, keeping a distance. I used the night to hide myself, and you didn't notice me.

Before shooting himself through the head with a pistol, Frobisher wrote in his last letter:

Yesterday on the tower's lookout at sunset. It was purely a coincidence that you didn't see me first. As soon as I reached the last few steps, I saw the silhouette of a man leaning on the balcony, gazing at the sea - recognizing your beautiful gabardine coat and distinctive soft felt hat. Take another step forward and you can see me huddled in the shadows. You walk to the north - just turn in my direction and you'll find me. It took all my courage to see you as long as I could - a minute? ——Then he stepped back and hurried downstairs.

Miss Nanhui, this is how I feel at this time.

You walked into a convenience store, and I followed you in, hiding behind the shelves at the other end. You picked some small daily necessities and took them to the counter to check out. While swiping the barcode, you absently picked up the chocolate on the counter, looked at it, and then put it back. After you left, I took whatever I wanted to check out and bought the chocolate you picked up.

Walking out of the convenience store, I still kept my distance and walked behind. You lit a cigarette, held it between your slender fingers, walked on the quiet sidewalk, and smoked slowly. Unknowingly, we reached the intersection. At the red light, you stood for a while, turned around before the green light came on, and put out the cigarette butt in the ashtray of the trash can. I felt like you were about to see me, and before I had time to dodge, an electric current of tension seized me, and I felt like I was about to die. Fortunately, you still didn't notice me. It wasn't until your figure disappeared across the road. I breathed a sigh of relief and found that the hand in my coat pocket was holding the poor piece of chocolate tightly.

I realized that, like what Sidheim said in his letter, if you take off some of the beliefs you stick on, you will find the truth that can never be removed from a person's heart.

The Roman Empire would fall again, Cortes would ravage Tenochtitlan again, Ewing would sail again, Adrian would be blown to pieces again, and you and I would sleep under the stars of Corsica again. .

Miss Nanhui, you will come to the Seagull Cafe, I will fall in love with you, you will read this letter, and the sun will become cold. When Nietzsche's gramophone record ends, Satan will play it again for the sake of endless eternal truth. I will fall in love with you again.

I can understand the words in your eyes. "Every time I read those letters, I feel like I am truly needed, constantly missed, and deeply loved."

春

The Spring Festival is noisy The past has passed, bid farewell to the old and welcome the new. The Seagull Cafe remains the same, and the light from the window is still abundant and soft.

You push open the glass door and come in. I lowered my head to read and did not turn my eyes to you. But I have seen your appearance thousands of times in my heart.

You ordered coffee, took out "Cloud Atlas" from its old place on the bookshelf, and sat down by the window.

Your eyes stop on the page "Memling Hotel, Bruges, 4:15 in the morning of December 12, 1931". Frobisher's last letter to Sixsmith.

This letter is tucked into this page of the book. I know you'll see this letter.

It’s not just hormones that are at work, there is also a spiritual connection that is similar to faith. This is my understanding of love. I think you'll agree.

I hope you never have to read those letters from Sidhelm again.

Sincerely,

Qingshan