The Ridge

Is the path really this narrow? Just a single ridge between fields. The crowded, silent clover forbids us from walking side by side. If you walk with me, you will count my footprints; if I go with you, I can only watch your back. — Gu Cheng, The Ridge

I know well that my journey has only just begun.

After two pleasant and leisurely trips, a narrow ridge now lies before me. I trifled away the days before. Now, I know I must work hard.

One

This ridge was terrifyingly empty; there was no one ahead. But I constantly reminded myself: I have my mission, I have things I must pursue, and I cannot stop. With these thoughts in mind, I couldn't help but quicken my pace.

After an unknown amount of time, a figure gradually appeared ahead, turning from a blurry silhouette into a clear form. He seemed to be strolling leisurely, contentedly enjoying the scenery along the way. Keeping my head down, I pressed on and quietly drew closer.

He did not turn around. He simply said, "Let's walk together."

The ridge was too narrow. And so, he had to lead while I followed, sheltered beneath his tall figure.

Over the next few days, he taught me which paths were more convenient and faster, and how to avoid taking detours. He would share the sweet, delicious food from his bag instead of watching me miserably chew on my dry rations. When I was tired, he would play with the clover by the roadside, trying to make me laugh. At night, we talked about everything under the sun—our lives and the way the world works.

He was like a mentor, but even more of a close friend, guiding me through my confusion and pointing the way forward. Yet, there was only one flaw: he walked too slowly, so much so that I could only patiently count his sluggish footsteps.

Did I have enough time to make it out of this ridge? I dared not slacken. I quickened my pace, only to be blocked.

One night, I tried to talk to him about it.

"First of all, thank you. The days spent with you have been incredibly fulfilling and happy... but I still have my mission to complete, so I need to press on day and night, through wind and rain. I must pursue what belongs to me. So, can you speed up your pace?"

He lowered his head and thought for a moment. "I am truly sorry. I have an ailment in my feet; I'm afraid I can no longer walk with you."

I stared at him blankly. The light in his eyes instantly dimmed. We fell into a long silence.

Finally, he spoke: "You go ahead. Remember to keep fighting."

I slung on my backpack, my heart trembling violently, but in the end, I took that step. "Goodbye."

I began to run swiftly. Stealing a glance back, I saw him standing there for a long time, staring blankly at my retreating figure. Then, he sat down on the ridge, gazing dejectedly at the clover.

Why couldn't I have met you earlier? Then, we could have played together.

But we happened to meet on this narrow ridge—one in front, one behind—and in the end, someone always has to leave first.

Two

After leaving him, I began my solitary journey once more. Though lonely, I still managed to find joy in my own company.

After meeting and parting with one person after another, I knew not how much time had passed when light, brisk footsteps sounded behind me. The footsteps drew closer, accompanied by a pleasant hummed tune. Suddenly, she lunged forward and tapped me on the shoulder: "Hey!"

Although I didn't understand why she greeted me that way, I politely replied with a smile, then turned back around to continue my way.

"Hmm? You don't seem very happy," she asked.

And so, she continuously shared all kinds of stories from her journey—about the scenery along the road, and about her companions.

"...The partner I walked with before was super hardworking! She would get up to start walking at 5:00 AM before the sun was even up! I only got up at 6:30 AM, so I had to rely on my speed to catch up to her. Then I'd just follow behind, counting her footprints while enjoying the surrounding scenery. But now that I'm focusing on making progress, I've overtaken her! And now I've run into you. Haha!"

"Haha," I responded half-heartedly.

Night had quietly fallen upon another patch of clover. Glancing back inadvertently, I saw her looking up at the star-studded night sky.

Suddenly, I realized: actually, her eyes were quite beautiful.

"What are you looking at... don't stop, keep moving!"

Later on, we would occasionally banter and laugh, and the journey never felt boring again.

Even later, when we rested, I would take her to the roadside to pick clover, chewing on the grass stems and hooking the leaves together. When we were tired, we would lie on the ground, leaning against a tree; or she would lean gently against my shoulder, her long hair cascading down, with dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves.

Sometimes, I wished a single moment could last forever. Unfortunately, I did not get my wish.

Finally, one night, she said, "I can't stroll anymore. This is a critical moment; I need to make my final sprint."

"Oh... do you mean... we have to separate?"

We fell into silence. I felt a sharp pang of pain in my chest.

I don't want you to go. But I don't want to stand in the way of your dreams either. What should I do?

"Alright." I took a deep breath, only to find I couldn't utter another word.

Her eyes were still shining brightly, just as they did when we first met.

"We will meet again. When I reach the end of this ridge, I will definitely wait for you."

We nodded in mutual understanding. Then, I watched blankly as her running figure vanished into the endless dark night.

Suddenly, it clicked. Since you want to chase your dreams, then I will chase you.

I began to run frantically. I ran past clover fields, ran past birch forests.

I ran past those sunlit afternoons where her sly, unmistakable smile seemed to drift before my eyes.

I ran past the realization I had tried so hard to avoid, ran past my self-deprecating and silent self, ran past my restless, burning emotions. I ran past all my weaknesses, ran past my former madness. In an instant, it felt as though I had grown up; now, nothing could stop my wind-like pace.

I sprinted, running with all my life, chasing that drifting, elusive figure.

If you want to sprint, I too can fight my way to the finish line. I can do anything, as long as it is for you.

Yet, ahead lay a three-way fork in the road. I strained my eyes to look into the distance, but I could not see her figure anywhere.

Slowly, I came to a halt. It was still the birch tree by the clover field, but the place was empty.

As the sun set in the west, I cried like a child.

Why couldn't I have met you later? Then, we could have walked side by side.

But we happened to meet on this narrow ridge—one in front, one behind—and in the end, someone always has to leave first.

This narrow ridge is perhaps the longest distance in the world.

Three

I could never truly heal from the pain of that event. I tried so hard to catch up, but as I stood before one fork in the road after another, I finally understood that her goodbye might have been her last words to me.

I stopped. I wanted to rest for a while. Suddenly, I heard soft, heavy breathing behind me.

I turned around. It was an elderly man. He was so short, only reaching my waist, which was why I had never noticed him before. His face looked somewhat familiar... wait?

"Father, is that you?"

I could barely recognize that this was him. In my memory, he was always that tall, sturdy, loving man who had led me through all the paths before. He simply smiled faintly, stopped his footsteps, and steadied his breathing.

"Yes, I've been following you all this way."

He spoke with incredible lightness, wearing that familiar smile on his face. Suddenly, I understood. Why was it that after so many days, the food in my bag never decreased but only multiplied, and my clothes were always clean and fresh, leaving me with no worries about food or shelter? I had always kept my eyes fixed too far ahead, single-mindedly chasing my dreams and pursuing a bright future, while always ignoring the person who was silently supporting me from behind.

We looked at each other in silence, tears streaming down our faces. I threw my arms around him—just as he used to hold me—letting the tears flow freely down my cheeks.

I had made up my mind. I needed to slow down and keep him company.

But... he was just too old. Sunrise, sunset. I tried my hardest to slow my pace, fighting for every second to accompany him, but he still walked breathlessly, utterly exhausted. Having chased me for so long and over such a great distance, his body had long been pushed past its limits.

I was consumed by self-reproach. I realized I had been too selfish, but there was no going back.

Finally, one day, he sat down heavily on the ridge.

"Go on, son. I am holding you back. You should go and chase your dreams."

I froze. After a long silence, I slowly squeezed out the words: "No, Father, I can't leave you..."

"Don't say another word. I am old, I can't walk anymore. I probably can't accompany you much longer anyway."

It was as if I understood something, and tears began to blur my vision. I rushed forward and fell to my knees before him: "Dad, I was wrong! As your son, I have never truly shown my filial piety or repaid you for raising me! Give me a chance, let me at least walk this final path with you, Father... really, nothing else matters anymore..."

He did not speak. The two of us fell into a long silence on the ridge.

"Go."

"No..."

"Go!" He seemed to grow angry.

"A man must have his own dreams, his own pursuits. Hurry up and chase what is yours."

I straightened up, continuing to stare at him blankly.

"Go!"

His tone was so resolute. Slowly, I stood up. Wiping my eyes, I shouldered my pack and resumed my journey.

I looked back at him from time to time. I saw him sitting alone on the ridge, wiping away his tears, stealing glances at my retreating figure.

Night fell. Looking up at the starry sky, I had never felt so lonely.

I should have walked this life with you. But in the end, on this narrow ridge, you still had to take that step ahead and leave me behind.

Four

If you are in front, I can only see your back, forever unable to catch up.

If you are behind, you can only count my footprints, held back by my pace.

What am I supposed to do?

I thought, and I walked.

One day, I finally walked out of this ridge. Before me lay a vast, boundless plain, entirely devoid of people.

I laughed and leaped in wild joy.

But after the laughter died down, nothing was left.

Because the people I loved, and the people who loved me, were no longer by my side.