Chapter 22: Butterfly Kite 

Seasoned bamboo, crafted into a fledgling swallow.

Kites were called zhiyuan in ancient times, a name that evokes a special atmosphere.

Arriving at the apartment, Su Yudie pulled out bamboo strips, rice paper, cotton thread, glue, candles, a craft knife, paintbrushes, and other materials and tools from her bag.

The level of professionalism left Zhuang Zi’ang speechless. “You’re really going to make a kite yourself?”

“Of course! Do I look like I’m joking?” Su Yudie said seriously.

Zhuang Zi’ang had flown kites a few times as a child, but they were all store-bought.

He had never tried making a kite himself.

Simply put, he was clumsy.

Kites have a history of two thousand years, although the original materials weren’t paper.

During the Song, Ming, and Qing dynasties, papermaking was advanced, and flying kites was a popular pastime for people of all ages during spring outings.

To this day, it’s not just a toy but also an elegant art form.

More than a decade ago, it was listed as a national intangible cultural heritage.

Su Yudie first sketched the design of the kite on the rice paper: a large butterfly.

Then, she used the bamboo strips to create the frame according to the design.

Zhuang Zi’ang watched as Su Yudie used a candle to heat the bamboo, bending the strips to the desired curves.

Zhuang Zi’ang was utterly amazed; this girl was incredibly skilled.

He felt like a fool, just standing by and watching, completely unable to help.

Su Yudie used cotton thread to secure the bamboo strips, tying them into the butterfly’s frame, and then applied glue to attach the rice paper, trimming off the excess.

The basic shape of the kite was nearly complete.

To transform the kite from a mere toy into a work of art, the most important aspect was the design on it.

Su Yudie first outlined the lines with a pencil, then took out paint and a palette to mix the colors she needed.

Next, she held the brush and began to paint quietly.

The spring breeze entered the room, and the falling flowers whispered softly.

Zhuang Zi’ang stood to the side, quietly admiring Xiao Yudie’s perfect profile, not daring to make a sound.

In that moment, he seemed to envision a refined young lady from a thousand years ago, drawing a kite.

Gentle and graceful, she was captivating.

He had never imagined that the process of making a kite could be so beautiful.

With great patience, Su Yudie meticulously painted intricate patterns on the butterfly’s wings.

Ordinary bamboo and paper were transformed into a work of art.

“Alright, is it pretty?”

After more than half an hour of painting, Su Yudie finally set down her brush and let out a long sigh.

A lifelike butterfly appeared before Zhuang Zi’ang’s eyes.

“Xiao Yudie, you’re amazing,” Zhuang Zi’ang praised enthusiastically.

“This is what Grandma taught me. I made one every year when I was little!” Su Yudie said, feeling quite proud of her masterpiece.

Then she picked up the brush again and wrote a line of small characters in the deliberately left blank space.

“Big Dummy.”

In ancient times, many people wrote on kites, usually festive and auspicious phrases.

But no one wrote “Big Dummy.”

“You can scold me normally, but why write it on the kite?” Zhuang Zi’ang muttered in displeasure.

“Let the kite take your dumbness away; maybe you’ll be a bit smarter in the future,” Su Yudie said with a mischievous smile, defending her words.

Unwilling to back down, Zhuang Zi’ang took up the brush and wrote a line next to hers.

“Xiao Yudie, Little Fool.”

Su Yudie’s handwriting was elegant, while Zhuang Zi’ang’s was more fluid, though the content of their words felt a bit childish.

As a result, the twelve characters crowded together, appearing as a dark blotch that threw off the kite’s overall color scheme.

“It doesn’t look good,” Su Yudie pouted.

Zhuang Zi’ang picked up the brush again, dipped it in some red paint, and painted a heart between the two lines of text.

That splash of red was like the finishing touch on a painting.

Suddenly, the colors had depth.

Su Yudie looked at the heart between their names, her face flushed and her eyes shy.

After letting the glue and ink dry, the two of them headed out to the grassy area by the river.

The sky was a clear blue, and a gentle breeze made it a perfect day for flying kites.

Su Yudie held the kite while Zhuang Zi’ang launched it into the air.

He ran back and forth across the grass a few times, and the butterfly-shaped kite was lifted by the breeze, soaring higher and higher.

In fact, many traditional paper kites bought online are merely for show and can’t truly be flown.

Su Yudie’s kite-making skills were truly impressive.

Watching the kite flying in the sky, becoming smaller and smaller, it resembled a real butterfly.

As a witness to the kite’s creation and one of the few participants, Zhuang Zi’ang felt a sense of accomplishment.

This joy was incomparable to that of a store-bought kite.

With a smile, he said, “The good wind carries me upward, sending me to the azure clouds.”

Su Yudie kept looking up, clapping her hands in delight, her laughter ringing like a clear bell.

In her eyes, there was also a hint of envy.

Above, the white clouds drifted lazily, and below, the water flowed gently.

How wonderful it would be to be a happy little butterfly, freely soaring between heaven and earth.

Once the kite flew high, it didn’t require much effort; occasionally tugging the string was all that was needed.

Zhuang Zi’ang handed the spool of string to Su Yudie, letting her experience it for herself.

Su Yudie eagerly took it, bouncing and running back and forth across the grass.

After straining her neck to look up for so long, she still wore a silly grin on her face.

Happiness can sometimes be that pure and simple.

Zhuang Zi’ang sat on the grass, quietly watching the girl.

Sunlight streamed down from the clouds, illuminating her entire being.

Every strand of hair was clearly visible, swaying gently with her movements.

The peach blossom by her ear was incredibly vibrant.

“Peach trees in full bloom, their blossoms radiant; as the young girl departs, may she bring joy to her new home.”

This is a famous passage from the Book of Songs, depicting the scene of a young girl getting married.

Zhuang Zi’ang recalled what Li Huang Xuan had said as the best man last night, and a sudden pang of pain rose in his heart.

Su Yudie, dressed as a bride, would undoubtedly be stunningly beautiful.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to see it.

The boy who would marry her must have saved the galaxy in his past life.

The kite soared higher and higher, becoming a tiny dot beneath the clouds, while the sun grew increasingly blinding, making it hard to see clearly.

Su Yudié handed the spool of string back to Zhuang Zi’ang and then pulled a craft knife from her backpack.

“What are you doing?” Zhuang Zi’ang asked in surprise.

“Cutting the kite string so the butterfly can be truly free,” Su Yudie said with clear eyes.

“You worked so hard on this kite; it would be such a shame to lose it,” Zhuang Zi’ang wanted to persuade her.

“I have already enjoyed the process of making the kite; that’s enough for me. Now, I want it to fly to faraway places,” Su Yudie replied firmly.

In her heart, she didn’t see the kite as a mere toy.

It felt as though it were a living butterfly.

Zhuang Zi’ang chose not to argue further; it would seem too trivial.

Without any hesitation, Su Yudie decisively cut the kite string.

The butterfly was completely freed, drifting in the wind as it flew toward the horizon.

Carrying the names of Zhuang Zi’ang and Xiao Yudie, it sought out freedom.

In this world, many things emphasize the outcome more than the process.

Just like every person who is destined to face death, but that doesn’t prevent us from enjoying life.

Life is as brilliant as summer flowers, while death is as serene as autumn leaves.

Zhuang Zi’ang placed his hands in his pockets, watching the kite disappear into the sky. Then he turned his gaze back to the girl beside him.

He distinctly heard the sound of his own heart beating.