李翘楚：我愛蒼生，也愛風月

我愛蒼生，也愛風月

发表于2025/02/14

你何來王冠

許是他們，以罪爲你加冕

你爲何不覺沉重

那是因我，盡心竭力

以爱为你加冕

——是爲記

先分享個趣事給你。2025年元旦，我在淘寶網上定製卡通情侶頭像，剛上傳了我們的合影。就被淘寶系統自動刪除，對我禁言7天。後來，有個姐姐想用我的照片做視頻，AI卻通知她，上傳的圖片會讓人過敏。記得以前，你帶着身份證，走到哪裏響到哪裏。我就形容你爲“行走的BUG”，你問什麼是BUG。我帶你去看了孟京輝的話劇，你激動不已，回家的路上反覆唸着那幾句臺詞：“一无所有的人，依旧有笑这个武器，我们是一无所有面前最大的BUG。我想要获得阳光、空气、水和免于恐惧的自由。在夜晚我不觉得孤独，在大地的黑暗里，我是人民，无数的人民。”

你看，過了五年，你依然是100%BUG，我也算是50%，雖然我並不喜愛這個“勛章”。

從前的我，你並未見過。我唯一的天賦就是不顾一切，我熱愛山川穿過耳垂的風，喜歡冰雪和驕陽下螻蟻般的路人，渴望從熟悉的環境消失、離開我愛的人。我永遠尋找抽象的語言，再崩潰也不屑於誰的安慰。

但是接連的遭遇讓我對自己失去了所有信心。所以第一次見面，你看到的我，就像是地上被碾碎的枯葉，也像是飄飛在曠野的白色塑料袋，我一度認爲自己是這個世界上最不配得到愛的人。想知道我對你的第一印象嗎？我回家後在社交網絡感言：“許老師很合時宜的出現在我的本科時代，讓我意識到思考和行動的重要性。但意識領袖總會過氣，就讓他消失在我們年輕一代作爲行動主力的時代吧。”

2019年6月，我們成爲相互依靠的伴侶。雖然我們先前都經歷過來自強權和親密關係的雙重打擊。但你是個不知教訓的人，永遠有忘記了的傷疤；我像個大病初癒的人，始終有痛不完的創口。我總是在疑惑：那是曾被禁錮在高牆內4年半的人嗎？思想自由、精神獨立、生活上還有趣。

其實我在決定成爲你女朋友的那一刻，是因爲，我在你身上看到一種特別的東西，讓我沒有懷疑，縱身一跳，讓我敢把話說滿、事做絕。讓我放膽去做許多從未嘗試過、或以爲不會碰觸的事情。你做到了无条件接受最真实的我，包括我邋遢的样子、我古怪的思維、我抽象的表达、我心口不一的假大度……

我從小就是個大人眼中的“乖小孩”。嚴苛自己，討好長輩，不會拒絕，始終活在別人的評價中。不會表達負面情緒，不敢說出自己的需求。可是你敏銳的看到了面具背後那個真實的，早已不堪重負，心力交瘁的我。你與我一起分擔抑鬱症帶來的痛苦，你溫柔細緻的照顧，讓我重新找回了對自己的認同感。

跟你在一起的時候，我也看到了鮮明亮麗的自己。我是你女朋友，但不是你“的”女朋友；我未來會成爲你妻子，但不是你“的”妻子。我們相互獨立、各自努力。我們享有彼此的愛，但不把這視爲理所當然。我們總會在飯桌辯論與對方不同的理念和觀點。我那時對你說：“你美好的信念刀槍不入，我對此表示尊重。但要是硬塞給我，我一點都不樂意。”

2019年底的事情徹底改變了我的生命軌跡。追我的時候，你跟我說，不讓我受一點委屈，然後我發現，真的不是一點。你還跟我說，要爲我遮風擋雨。可是親愛的，你的人生本就沒晴朗過，難怪你永遠都是風雨無懼的樣子。當時的我，不知道要怎麼跟你解釋，在我毫不猶豫愛你時，恐懼同樣無邊無際。

2020年初我的29歲生日，你一早發來消息：親愛的，我不喜歡你發佈的照片，沒有展現出你的溫柔。我隔着屏幕翻了個好大的白眼，接着在facebook上吐槽：直男癌腦子裏都有屎。

情人節之後，我們徹底失去了對方的消息。雖然那時我們彼此的物理距離是這五年來最近的時候。那時，我穿越到了卡夫卡的《審判》中，變成了K先生，絞盡腦汁也沒搞清楚自己因何陷入困境，時刻擔心“像一條狗似的”被處死，至死也在莫名其妙。

四個月的時間，我除了排演這個劇本，也會在心裏默想之前背過的詩句歌詞，假想我們能有心靈感應，我便與你分享這些浪漫和美好：

比如，完全無法知曉時間。我會背艾略特：“既然时间不存在，爱人啊，我们为什么要祈望活整整一个世纪？”

不得不像個木偶呆呆坐着。我會想：“蝴蝶死後，我學會了順從。我們如木偶，被繩索操控。如果能夠仰望，感知繩索的操縱，從此也可以自由。”

長期接觸不到陽光。我會唱陳綺貞：“如果有一個世界，渾濁得不像話，我會瘋狂地愛上。原諒我飛，曾經眷戀太陽。”

2020年6月，我重獲短暫自由，你去了遙遠的某個小城，杳無音信，連同你的名字。怎麼？是不好聽刺激了耳朵？叫起來燙着了耳朵？還是太刺眼晃瞎了耳朵？

雖然只有半年時間，我卻感覺一個人走了很長的路，如果你問我累不累，我可能會哭。可是親愛的，除了戰鬥到底，我們還有更好的辦法嗎？你出事之後，命運一直沒有失信於我，每一次的沉重打擊，都沒讓我錯過。

2021年2月5日，我也告別了家人去往你所在的小城了。又是冬天，寒風凜冽。一路上我都在沮喪，如果手可以放在兜裏，就可以不揮手、不告別。

一次又一次被延期，日子多麼難熬。忽然想起以前聽過的歌曲：她不過想要愛，差點上斷頭台。/人家跌倒兩次吧，就再不相信愛。/浪漫願她不要改，為美麗信念，仍肯期待。

我們儘可能把捕捉到的小美好存在腦中、傳給對方：冬天的暖陽；夏天過道傳來的空調冷氣；牆角的小野花；在你腳邊睡覺的大花貓……

冬天夜晚降臨，我對你說：“你快看，日落抱住了你！”

夏天炎熱潮溼，我祈禱：“希望我們故事裏的大雨，總是可以下在我們遇到的每一場炎熱難熬的天氣。”

冬天白雪皚皚，我憤憤不平：“雪就是雪，才不是花。它如此單純潔白，請別連它的名字，也要殘忍剝奪！”

室友牙疼，躲在廁所裡哭。我逗她：“下輩子我想要投胎做個牙齒，如果我不開心了，就立刻有人一起跟着疼。”

……

2023年4月，你等來結果，我跟你说：“我对你的感情始终不变，我会一直守护你。”

2023年12月，我的高光時刻，站在那里，突然共情了你。面對冷漠、嘲諷，敵意，我孤身一人，如何堅定的站立，表達觀點。

親愛的，這樣的時刻。愛情和親情都給不了我絕地逢生的力量，我最愛的火鍋和奶茶更給不了。所向披靡的勇氣，終究要回歸對自我的堅守，不因任何外力所改變、裹挾、屈服、定義。不管是來自殺戮方還是支持方。

什麼是自由？就是確信，自己不可被定義的時刻。

2024年2月和7月，我也迎來了結果。兩次站在那裏，身後是座無虛席的喫瓜羣衆，我變成了甜瓜、苦瓜、西瓜、冬瓜……

我站在那裏，反覆地回想那首叫《門檻》的詩，屠格涅夫筆下的俄羅斯女郎：

你知道里面有什么东西在等着你？

寒冷、饥饿、憎恨、嘲笑、轻视、侮辱、监狱、疾病，甚至于死亡。

跟人们的疏远，完全的孤独。

没有人知道你，也没有人纪念你。

在困苦中你可能否认信仰，你会以为浪费了青春。

沒有猶豫，女郎跨进了门槛。

親愛的，我其實是在那個時候才將你的最後結果，以平常心去接納。你被製造爲囚徒的同時，也在被塑造成英雄。但在我看來，一個堅韌的靈魂，不需要這些符號化如此強的頭銜來做嘉獎。比起你爲人稱道的“如何對抗強權”，我更看重你如何善待“弱小”；比起你被人誇讚的“如何直面暴力機器”，我更在意你如何看待女性；比起大家提到你會帶出一大長串的什麼公民理念之類的，我更期待你在多年之後，是否仍在警惕自我與深淵的界限，不論任何陣地，永遠知行合一。

2024年8月，我終於可以在紙上書寫對你的思念和牽掛。但生活就是，一邊拿刀反覆捅我，一邊責備我怎麼經歷這幾年還沒有刀槍不入？！現實不過是想給我們上一課：你以爲可以靠自己去爭取，其實你只能等待施捨或賞賜，什麼？！居然不對我感恩戴德？！終於，被現實不斷教訓，又不具備能力反擊的時候。我不想繼續假裝活得正常，當身邊的人接連崩潰的時候，我依然想活出賦予自己身份的真義。

這五年，我學會了如何愛。愛不僅是牽絆和守護，也包括解放和成全。不僅是爲你遮擋、幫你拒絕現實的殘酷，更是給你面對殘酷的信心和底氣。成全你的自由選擇，解放你自願去選擇喫不飽、穿不暖、受苦受難的權利。支持你在殘酷中活出自己的常態——有情有義，有血有肉，有鎧甲有軟肋。再灵魂的伴侣，也无法真的分担彼此正在承受的苦难。但可以穿透墙内外的是自由意志和永恒的爱。让我们的愛遠超越那自以為主宰我们命運的人的恨。

親愛的，如果沒有你，不知道我的生活該是多麼歲月靜好。但我知道，你於我的意義不僅是情感層面的。如何在殘酷現實把自己活成生命常態，而非抗爭機器，是我從你那裏體會到的意外驚喜。有次坐在你對面，看着你認真的幫我盛西紅柿炒雞蛋拌進米飯。我就在想，如果我所有的抱負，到最後不過是虛妄一場。我如何面對自己的失敗人生？但從那以後，我不再有這樣的擔憂了。如何投入的愛這片土地和土地上的人？怎樣溫柔的反抗？何以喜樂的不服從？其實是我們的經歷，而非結果，成爲了我們的意義。

我經常想象這樣的場景：監獄的大門打開，你從裏面走出來。抬起頭就撞上我迎過去的目光，我毫不猶豫衝到你面前，抱住你說：親愛的，我來接你回家，回我們的家。

欢迎观看我为许志永制作的情人节祝福视频

2025年2月14日 情人節

愛你的 翹楚

English Version

I Love All Lives, But I Am Also a Romantic

Where do you get your crown

Perhaps from the crime they’ve charged you with

You don’t feel the weight of it

Because I’m doing everything

To crown you with love

– Note from the author

I’ll start with a New Year’s story. On the first day of 2025, I was trying to order on Taobao a custom-made cartoon avatar of me and Xu Zhiyong. As soon as I uploaded a photo of us together, the Taobao system auto-deleted the photo and gave my account a 7-day ban. When a female friend tried including my photo in a video, the AI informed her that the uploaded image contained sensitive content.

I recall how you would cause beeping at security checkpoints wherever you went, when your ID card was scanned. For that I called you a “walking bug” and you asked me, “what’s a ‘bug’?” You were so happy when I took you to see Meng Jinghui’s play. You kept repeating those lines from the play: “A person who has lost everything still has the weapon of laughter. We who possess nothing are the biggest ‘bugs’ in the system. I want to gain the freedoms of sunlight, air, water, and to be without fear. At night, I don’t feel alone, for in the darkness of the earth I am the people, countless people.”

See? After five years, you’re still 100 percent “bug,” and I’m maybe around 50 percent, even though I don’t particularly like this “badge of honor.”

You never met the old me. My only talent was to disregard everything. I loved the mountains and the wind passing by my earlobes, enjoyed the ice and snow, and watching the pedestrians walking like ants under the scorching sun. I longed to disappear from my familiar surroundings and leave those I love behind. I was always in search of abstract words, and no matter how devastated I felt, I cared no one’s comfort.

But the chain of tribulations I later faced made me lose all confidence in myself. So, when we met for the first time, what you saw in me was like a crushed dry leaf on the ground, or a white plastic bag blowing in the wilderness. At one point, I thought I was the person most unworthy of love in all the world. Do you want to know my first impression of you? After I went home, I wrote on social media: “Teacher Xu appeared at just the right time during my undergraduate years, making me realize the importance of thinking and action. But thought leaders always go out of fashion, so let him disappear in our era as we, the younger generation, take the lead role in activism.”

In June 2019, we became companions who relied on one another. Although we had both experienced dual blows from authority and in our intimate relationships before, you were someone who never learns from his lessons, who is always carrying forgotten scars. I, on the other hand, was like someone who had just recovered from a serious illness, constantly dealing with painful wounds. I often wondered at the time: Had this person really been behind bars for four and a half years? Because you were free in thought, independent in spirit, and full of life.

In fact, the moment I decided to become your girlfriend was because I saw something special in you that made me take the leap without a doubt, made me brave enough to speak my mind and go all in. That something gave me what it took to do many things I had never tried before, or thought I would never touch. You accepted the real me unconditionally, including my unkempt appearance, my quirky thoughts, my abstract expressions, and my grand but empty gestures……

I was always the “good girl” in the eyes of the adults in my life. I was harsh on myself, tried to please my elders, didn’t know how to say no, and always lived under the judgment of others. I wouldn’t express negative emotions nor dare to voice my needs. But you had the perception to see the real me behind the mask — someone long overwhelmed, exhausted, and emotionally drained. As I suffered in my depression, you shared my pain, and your gentle, thoughtful care helped me regain my sense of self-worth.

When I was with you, I saw the bright and vibrant version of myself. I am your girlfriend, but I am not your girlfriend; one day, I will become your wife, but not your wife. We are independent and pursue our own growth. We share each other’s love but don’t take it for granted. We always debate different ideas and viewpoints at the dinner table. I once told you: “Your beautiful beliefs are undefeatable, and I respect that. But if you try to force them onto me, I won’t be happy at all.”

Then the events at the end of 2019 completely changed the trajectory of my life. When you were courting me, you told me that you wouldn’t let me suffer the slightest grievance. But I soon realized the grievances were not “slight.” You also said you’d shield me from the wind and rain. But, my dear, your life had never really been sunny, no wonder you always appeared fearless in the face of storms. Back then, I didn’t know how to explain to you that, while I fell head over heels in love with you, my fear was just as boundless.

On my 29th birthday in early 2020, you sent me a message early in the morning: “Dear, I don’t like the photo you posted, it doesn’t show your gentleness.” I rolled my eyes and wrote on Facebook immediately: “straight males are truly incurable.”

After that year’s Valentine’s Day, we completely lost contact with each other. Although at that time, the physical distance between us was the closest it had been in the past five years. It was then that I found myself transported into Kafka’s Trial. Like K., I racked my brains in vain trying to understand why I had fallen into such a predicament, always fearing being executed “like a dog,” still lost in utter confusion even at the moment of my death.

For four months, during my secret detention, aside from rehearsing this script, I would silently recite the poems and lyrics I had memorized before, imagining that we could have a telepathic connection so that I could share these beautiful, romantic thoughts with you:

For example, having completely lost track of time, I would recite the lines by T.S. Eliot:

If space and time, as sages say,

Are things which cannot be,

…

So why, Love, should we ever pray

To live a century?

I had no choice but to sit still like a puppet. I would think: “After the butterfly died, I learned to be submissive. We are like puppets, controlled by strings. If we could look up and sense the strings’ control, we too could be free.”

Being long deprived of sunlight, I would sing Chen Qizhen’s song: “If there were a world as filthy as can be, I would fall madly in love with it. Forgive me for flying, for I once longed for the sun.”

In June 2020, I briefly regained my freedom, while you were held in a distant small town, vanishing without a trace. They even replaced your name with an alias. Did the sound of it not sit well with their ears? Did it burn or deafen their ears when they called you out by your name?

Although it was only half a year, it felt like I had walked a very long road alone. If you asked me if I was tired, I might cry. But, my love, besides fighting it out, do we have any better way? After you were taken away, fate has never left me alone, and the heavy blows, one after another, have never missed their mark.

On February 5, 2021, I said goodbye to my family and was, too, taken to the small town where you were. It was winter again, and the cold wind was howling. I felt so down along the way. If I could put my hands in my pockets, I wouldn’t have waved goodbye and said farewell.

They delayed handling my case over and over again. The days were so hard to endure. Suddenly, I remembered a song I once heard: “She just wanted to love, but almost went to the guillotine / People stop trusting in love once they fall down twice / May she not give up her romantic creed, may she not lose faith in her beautiful belief.”

We try to hold onto the little kernels of beauty we catch in our minds and share them with each other: the warmth of the winter sun, the breeze of the air conditioning coming from the hallway in the heat of summer, the little wildflowers in the corner, the big tabby cat sleeping by your feet…

On a winter dusk, I said to you, “Look, the sunset is hugging you!’

In the hot, humid summer, I prayed, “I hope the heavy rain in our story always falls on every unbearably hot day we encounter.”

On a snowy winter day, I vented my frustration: “Snow is snow, it’s not a flower. It’s so pure and white — please don’t be so cruel as to take away even its name!” (Note: in Chinese, the term for “snowflake” is literally “snowflower”)

An inmate of mine had a toothache and was crying in the bathroom. I joked with her, saying “I want to be born as a tooth in the next life. If I’m unhappy, there will be someone to suffer with me immediately.”

In April 2023, after a long wait, you were sentenced to 14 years in prison. I told you, “My love for you has never changed. I will always guard you.”

In December 2023, I faced my own moment of glory. Standing there on trial, I suddenly empathized with you. Facing indifference, mockery, and hostility, I stood alone, stood firm as I expressed my position.

My dear, in moments like this, neither love nor family could have given me the strength to survive against all odds, not even my favorite hotpot or milk tea could. Invincible courage ultimately must come from a firm commitment to myself, unwavering and unchanging, not shaped, coerced, or defined by any outside force — whether they are oppressing or supporting me.

What is freedom? It is the moment when you are certain that you cannot be defined.

In February and July 2024, I also received a sentence — the first instance and the second instance, respectively. Twice, I stood there, with a crowd of indifferent onlookers behind me. I turned into a multi-flavor spectacle: sweet, bitter, juicy, dry.

I stood there, repeatedly thinking of the poem “Threshold,” and of the Russian girl from Turgenev’s pen:

“‘You, who wishes to step over this threshold, do you know what awaits you?

Cold, hunger, hatred, derision, contempt, abuse, prison, sickness, and maybe even death?

Complete alienation, loneliness?

As a nameless sacrifice? You will perish, and no one, no one will even know whose memory they should honor?

That you may become disillusioned in what you believe now, perhaps realize that you made a mistake, and that you ruined your young life?’

The girl stepped over the threshold.”

My love, it was at that moment that I finally accepted their sentence of you with a calm heart. While you were being made into a prisoner, you were also being molded into a hero. But to me, a resilient soul doesn’t need such strong symbolic titles for recognition. Rather than the praise for “fighting against power,” I value more how you treat the “weak”; rather than the admiration for how you “face the machinery of violence,” I’m more concerned about how you view women; rather than the long list of “citizen ideals” that people associate with you, I’m more interested in whether, years later, you will still be vigilant about the boundary between yourself and the abyss, always practicing unity of knowledge and action, no matter which camp you are in.

In August 2024, I was released. Finally I could put my longing and concern for you to paper. But life is like this: it keeps stabbing me with a knife while blaming me for not being bladeproof after all these years! They just want to teach us a lesson: you think you can fight for yourself, but in reality, you can only wait for our charity or favor to come along. What? You’re not grateful? Finally, when reality keeps teaching me lessons, and I don’t have the ability to fight back, I no longer want to pretend to live normally. When the people around me keep collapsing, I still want to live out the true meaning of the identity I’ve created for myself.

In these five years, I have learned how to love. Love is not only about attachment and protection, but also about liberation and fulfillment. It’s not just about shielding you and helping you reject the cruelty of reality, but also giving you the confidence and strength to face that cruelty. It’s about granting you the freedom to make your own choices, freeing you to choose suffering voluntarily, supporting you in living your true self amidst hardship — having emotions and loyalty, being flesh and blood, having armor and weak spots. No matter how soulful a partner is, they can never truly share the suffering each one is bearing. But what transcends the prison walls, whether inside or outside, is free will and eternal love. Let our love go far beyond the hate of those who think they control our destiny.

My love, were it not for you, who knows how peaceful my life might have been. But I know that your significance in my life goes beyond the emotional dimension. How to live as my true self in the face of harsh reality, not merely as a hardened machine of resistance, is an unexpected surprise I learned from you. Once, sitting across from you, watching your earnest effort at mixing scrambled eggs with tomatoes into the rice for me, I thought, if all my ambitions turn out to be nothing but an illusion in the end, how would I face my failed life? But since that moment, I have no longer had such worries. How to be devoted to loving this land and the people living on it? How to be a hardened resistor but remain tender-hearted? How to be defiant but joyful? In fact, it’s our experiences — not the outcomes — that become our meaning.

I often envision this scene: the prison gates roll open, and you walk out. You lift your head and immediately meet my gaze as I rush toward you, holding you in my arms, “My love, I’ve come to take you home, back to our home.”

Your love,
Qiaochu

Valentine’s Day, February 14, 2025

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文章来源： https://seriousli.home.blog/2025/02/14/20250214/