I am a writer in Tokyo

Mr. Yoshino read the book on the quilt a little more carefully, probably in large part because it was recommended to him by his wife, who never liked reading.

In fact, looking at the book with several pages turned over and turned upside down, it means that his wife has indeed read it; the fact that a person who doesn't like reading very much can read a book can only mean one thing: the book may not be the best, but it is definitely the most suitable to read.

Suddenly, Mr. Yoshino figured out something, and of course he became very interested in this book that could compete with Koin Yishu.

This interest was nurtured by the autumn nights, fed by the morning dew, thrived in the slightly cool sunlight during the day, and finally filled Mr. Yoshino's heart.

When he was at work during the day, he seemed a little absent-minded, as if most of his thoughts were focused on speculating what "The Book of the Boat" was actually about.

Mr. Yoshino rushed out of the company after the light outside changed direction, after the trees outside the company lost a few more yellow leaves, and after the already pitiful amount of summer heat completely dissipated.

He had forgotten what he said to his colleagues before leaving get off work, and also forgot whether he had punched in. When he rushed to the subway station, he was completely dazed.

Mr. Yoshino got on the railroad car that had snatched the afterglow of the setting sun and draped itself on it, and headed home.

When he returned home, Mrs. Yoshino took his bag and clothes as enthusiastically as before, but he saw the book and of course the food placed casually on the table.

"Have you been reading all day?" Mr. Yoshino knew it, but he asked again.

“Yes, I said this book is very good.”

After hearing the answer, Mr. Yoshino felt empty inside. Perhaps he felt that his wife had changed, or perhaps he felt that the book had become his wife's favorite thing.

"Eat quickly. I'll go read a book after I wash the dishes." Mrs. Yoshino walked to the dining table and gently put the book away. Her movements were very light, as if she was treating something she valued very much.

Yoshino Kamima was silent for a moment. He suddenly became curious: "You obviously didn't read books before."

"Maybe, it's just to wait for a book?"

Mr. Yoshino didn't say anything else. The more his wife did this, the more he wanted to read The Adventures of a Young Boatman. However, when he asked to read it, Mrs. Yoshino refused.

Her reason was simple: if Mr. Yoshino had watched it, then what would she watch?

"Don't you like reading Xiaoyuan Yishu's books?"

"finish watching."

"Then you can look at the others."

"But I'm very curious about this book." Mr. Yoshino thought for a moment, changed his mind, and asked, "How about this, tell me what story this book tells."

"I can't summarize it, it's probably just a group of people compiling a dictionary."

Mr. Yoshino did not believe this summary. If the story was so simple and sounded boring, his wife would never read it.

He did not understand the Book of the Boat, but he understood his wife.

Finally, he decided to go to a nearby bookstore and buy a book while there was still time.

Mr. Yoshino loved his wife very much, and he never imagined that he and his wife would have a big dispute, so he thought that they would not have a dispute over the distribution of items.

But now he had to do one thing, this was the first transfer of their property, that is, they each owned a copy of the same book.

The bookstore clerk had known Mr. Yoshino, a book-loving man, for a long time. When he learned that he wanted to buy another copy of "The Adventures of Yoshino", the clerk seemed very happy.

Because of this joy, the clerk couldn't help but talk more: "This book is really well written. I read it every time I go home during this period. I have read it several times. It is really warm."

The more the clerk talked, the more uncomfortable Mr. Yoshino felt. He felt like he had become a drug addict, the kind that would die from the drug if he didn't look at it the next second.

So after he got the book, he immediately opened the plastic cover and took a look inside. Good... there were words inside.

Mr. Yoshino's mood calmed down a little. The panic in his heart became much relieved after he grabbed the book. He secretly vowed to read the book as soon as he got home.

In fact, he did so after returning home, and had long forgotten the "activity" time several times a week. However, because Mrs. Yoshino was also immersed in books, the family relationship seemed very harmonious.

The nights at Yoshinoya are always very quiet, but the only one who is quiet before that is Mr. Yoshino; the other person probably only looks quiet on the surface, and probably has regrets and complaints in his heart surging like the smoke and clouds around Mount Fuji.

The wind became much gentler tonight. It wandered between the buildings, shook off the dewdrops that were not very firmly on the leaves, and then perhaps seemed bored and dissipated into the air.

Mrs. Yoshino suddenly said softly that it was very well written. A moment later, Mr. Yoshino's voice rang out: "Yes, it's very touching."

After they looked at each other, they saw the cunning in Mrs. Yoshino's eyes: "Right, I said it was very beautiful." She smiled playfully, and then said in a tone of seeking credit: "I am also a person who loves reading."

Mr. Yoshino couldn't help but laugh after hearing this. He really wanted to say that you said you were a book lover just because you read a book, but in the end he didn't say it out loud, but just hummed lightly.

He liked this feeling very much, reading books together. This feeling was a little warmer than the couple who shouted in the wind and rain that they would keep their lifelong vows. Maybe it was just being able to snuggle together every night and talk about what they liked.

"Honey, you read a lot of books. Can you tell me about this book?" Mrs. Yoshino knew that he was very interested in this. When they first got together, she would pretend to be very interested and listen to him chatter all night long. As time went by, she naturally took off a lot of this disguise. Today, she was not really pretending, but really liked him.

Sure enough, she saw light beginning to emerge in Mr. Yoshino's pupils. He looked very energetic, but then he frowned and thought about something.

"I don't know if I'm right."

"You may not be right for others." Mrs. Yoshino pursed her lips, with encouragement in her eyes. She leaned her cheek slightly closer to Mr. Yoshino. She could even feel the intoxicating masculinity of her husband: "But for me..."

It has been a long time since he said the second half of the sentence. Mr. Yoshino was aroused by this charming action. Just when he was about to push his lips forward, he saw Mrs. Yoshino in his sight quickly leaving with a smirk on her face, as if she had succeeded in a prank: "To me, you are right. Tell me now."

Mrs. Yoshino held her chin with both hands, her eyes fixed on her husband, not moving at all.

"The times are changing rapidly, and some people will be lost in the process of change. But some people may not be the ones lost by the times, but they lost the times. Compared with others, obscurity is their label. Some people regard them as aliens, while others think they are living in history. What kind of people are they?"

Mr. Yoshino thought for a moment and said, "They should be the kind of people who can be beaten to a pulp by reality, but they don't care. They only care about the peace and tranquility deep in their hearts."

Mr. Yoshino suddenly seemed to remember something. He said to his wife happily, "Do you remember my colleague, the one named Sanben, who came from the countryside?"

Mrs. Yoshino tried hard to recall and vaguely remembered that they had come back together for dinner before.

"He is very similar to the protagonist of the book, Marty Guang, and has severe social phobia. I heard before that he doesn't even use a cell phone because no one contacts him. But it is also because of this that he can't have a good chat with others. It's the funny thing I told you at the beginning. He was finally assigned to the marketing department."

Only then did Mrs. Yoshino remember who it was. She knew the joke, which was full of black humor.

But after hearing this, Mrs. Yoshino understood one thing: they were all the same kind of people, people who were marginalized, dull and unknown.

But the poor Mr. Sanben was different from Martiguang. Martiguang was crazy and wanted to get rid of it all. He asked himself what he had, and the answer he got was nothing.

But he also has something, a passion for language.

Driven by fate, he came to the editorial office where he was about to devote himself.

"You like that part too, right?" Mrs. Yoshino cheered. She felt that she and her husband were on the same wavelength.

"Yes, then I will play Araki and you will play Marty?"

Mrs. Yoshino nodded quickly.

So, Mr. Yoshino asked in Araki's voice: "Marty, let me ask you, if someone asked you to explain the meaning of 'right', how would you explain it?"

"Mr. Araki" has a burning gaze, filled with consideration for Marty. Perhaps the recognition of fate will happen at this moment.

Feeling the power of fate and the most primitive throbbing for words from the heart, "Marty" spoke. He did not give a complete answer, but asked "Araki" a question in return.

"Excuse me, is it right in terms of direction or right in terms of thought?"

When she said this, one could see Mrs. Yoshino, who was holding the book, trembling slightly. She had never encountered such a situation before. Perhaps it was only at this time that she realized the incomparable charm of this kind of book compared to magazines.

Araki replied, “It’s about direction.”

Maybe this is the answer.

Everything in this world that can be touched is evaporating uncontrollably at this moment! They are running! They are reveling!
In the tsunami of words, thoughts let out wild roars, and everything at this moment became unknowable and unreachable.

It just hasn’t stopped yet!

Listen, it feels like the wind is picking up outside again.

In the wild wind, in the ambiguous entanglement of night and lights, Mrs. Yoshino's "Marty" slowly said the most crazy words in the Book of the Boat: If it is interpreted as "the side where you hold chopsticks", it ignores left-handed people, but if it is interpreted as "the side without the heart", some people's hearts are on the right side... when the body is facing north, the side where the east is.

There are no heart-wrenching cries, no moving and exciting plots, but just this few words can turn the blood into mist that follows the wind in the blood vessels, boiling completely without any regard for anything.

Fate chose him, at this moment.

There is no doubt that he is destined to compile a dictionary, and even if it takes him a lifetime, he will complete his mission.

After Mr. Yoshino and Mrs. Yoshino broke away from the tide of thoughts, they looked at each other face to face and felt the lingering feeling just now.

“It’s really well written.”

Mrs. Yoshino didn't say anything. She felt the charm of literature and thought that perhaps magazines would slowly disappear from her life.

"The Compilation of Boat Records" may be such a book, and everyone in the dictionary editing department is working hard for the publication of "The Great Crossing of the Sea".

It is said that in order to connect with the dead and those who have not yet been born, humans created writing. No one has ever praised writing to such a high level, except them - the people who compile dictionaries.

With this belief, they began to weave a boat that could be used to cross the sea...

"It turns out that reading is something that can cleanse the soul." Mrs. Yoshino felt her head buzzing, and it was likely that it had achieved a very harmonious resonance.

Mr. Yoshino did not say anything, he was still immersed in it.

But now he knows one thing, he learned from this book, that such lonely and pure persistence does exist in this world, and such beautiful and clean people also exist, and of course life will become very simple and warm.

Is this a kind of consolation?

In this rapidly developing era, this book makes those who constantly want to run faster slow down. It is like a person who is trying hard to catch up with them, whispering in their ears, "Slow down, slow down," let the lagging soul slow down, it still has to catch up with your body.

"Why should the soul catch up?" Some people think that the soul is a burden.

Why, why?

Mr. Yoshino had also asked himself this question before.

But now he had his answer.

why?
In order to make our souls burn even more fiercely and never wither! (End of this chapter)