Chen Xiaoyu | Little Brother's Two Worlds

Around this time last year, I was also in the southwest. Jason took us to the other side of Cangshan Mountain, to Gualaban Village, for a hike and a farmhouse meal.

The mountain roads were winding, and I often felt the minivan could hardly hold up, the engine groaning on the cliff edges. The slopes were perilous, but Jason shifted gears skillfully, looking relaxed, which eased our nerves.

The sun in Dali was as scorching as ever, but once inside the house, it was cool. Above the fire pit hung a row of cured meats, varying in color and shape. Little Brother was sitting by the fire pit, wearing a black leather jacket, his back to the door and the light, playing a mobile game.

This scene perfectly matched the kind of excessive worry about internet-addicted teenagers. Head down, staring at the small screen. It seemed as if the demon of entertainment was crawling out of the pixels, poisoning the children of the mountains.

I knew there would be adults thinking this way, because I used to be a "computer kid" in the eyes of adults. In the screen, Little Brother was controlling a muscular man holding a rifle, wandering on a road, occasionally looking around cautiously. A green armored vehicle stopped in front of him. He raised his scope, unsure if it was friend or foe. After confirming, he climbed onto the armored vehicle and drove along an endless desert highway.

I wondered what kind of person the player driving that vehicle was, in which city, in what place, sharing this adventure with Little Brother.

After the meal, Little Brother led us up the mountain. He was really energetic, dashing to the top of a hill whenever he wanted, tossing his leather jacket aside, lying down, then jumping up. He knew this place well, knew how to enjoy the forest, where to pick flowers, which rocks were comfortable to sit on. We crawled into tree hollows, climbed onto branches, listening to Jason and the guides introduce the trees and plants. When the alpine rhododendrons would bloom, I couldn't remember. I only recalled that the guide told us many nature enthusiasts would use the name of a plant as their nature alias. He was "Moss No. 1". So we all excitedly gave ourselves nature names. Kaka was "Whiplash Hydrangea". I was "Guala", which means fern in the local dialect, feed to cows.

I also forgot when someone picked flowers and tucked them into Little Brother's ear. I took a photo of him; he looked shy yet natural in front of the camera. His face was sunburned to a reddish black, especially healthy in the sunlight. We all liked that photo, and Jason said he would send it to Little Brother's mom.

On the way, we met an elderly person who asked cheerfully, "Come to enjoy the scenery?"

Finally we reached our destination: a spacious meadow with scattered sheep, and you could see faraway mountains. We sat on the ground, eating fruit, bread baked by guide Aruna herself, and drinking black coffee.

On the way back, we saw a long stone wall. It was said to have been built by an elderly person in the village. Starting one day, he made up his mind, stone by stone, over the years, for no apparent reason to outsiders, building this wall that, though easy to climb over, made you feel something.

Little Brother accompanied us all along, listening to our conversations, sometimes appearing ahead, sometimes walking on a high slope parallel to us. Seeing him made us happy.

Along the way, I talked a lot with Jason. The last time I saw him before this, we were sitting on the grass at Xun Guang Farm, and I said I wanted to make a movie. He said if I needed it, he could lend me 100,000 RMB. Later, I really asked for that 100,000 and finished the movie. I also took the movie to many places and met many audiences. But only that day did he tell me that back then, he had run into some difficulties and had to ask three close friends for help to scrape together that 100,000.

Fortunately, in recent years, our situations have improved, and we have been pursuing what we love. He has gathered many friends who love life, taking everyone hiking, boating, and seeing the world with different eyes. These friends have also written many beautiful words. I keep doing what I've always done—writing, taking photos, editing—and more people have joined me.

It seems we are both the type who like to rally friends to do things together. We have our aspirations and are willing to take on failure.

Dinner was delicious, and everyone ate a lot. Besides the translucent cured meat under the sunset, what impressed me most was the walnut kernels dipped in honey before the meal, and cup after cup of hot black tea.

As the sky grew darker, we left the village and threw ourselves back into our own lives, shuttling between two, or even countless worlds. The world inside the screen, the world in the mountains, the world of stacking stones, the world of total loyalty, the world of drifting apart in the rivers and lakes. A world worth looking forward to tomorrow.