Getian: …?
There is a faint trembling sound, and a white light appears in the dim space.
A glimmer of silver flashes, accompanied by the jingle of bells, and a round hole suddenly appears on the wall.
Getian: Who—are you?
Pandora Wilson: "Is the Art of Walking Through Walls not marvelous?"
Beneath the paper, a silver hairpin floats gently in front of Gětiān.
Pandora Wilson: Your prediction was correct, Mr. Gětiān. We meet again.
Pandora Wilson: But why are you so surprised? Aren't you able to see the future?
Getian: I do not see the future. Not really ...
Gětiān closes his eyes and the hole in the wall closes.
Getian: My clan is called the "Mièméng." We are able to do Bone Readings and capable of changing fates.
Getian: Your inquiring mind was evident as soon as I read your Features of Bones, and I knew you're not one to give up on your "interviews" easily. I hadn't avoided you on purpose. So it was only a matter of time for us to run into one another again.
Pandora Wilson: What did you mean by "Features of Bones"? Based on what you're saying, it seems to be … a person's essence?
Getian: You might say that.
Getian: One's bones provide support. Beneath the skin lies flesh and blood; beneath flesh and blood lie tendons and veins. All are housed by the skeleton.
Getian: Beyond these chaotic, soft things, Features of Bones is the root of what we become. Understanding Features of Bones allows one to comprehend all things.
The bird's wide wings folded, and the paper hovers over them.
Pandora Wilson: So, you might say you are also an admirer of beauty.
Pandora Wilson: I admire things through their fragrance note, their medium, their dimensions, and form. But you eschew the rest, and look straight to the structure beneath.
She examines the bird and places the silver hairpin before him.
Pandora Wilson: I happen to have a question that I'd like to discuss with a wise arcanist from the East who understands all things.
Getian: This pin is what allows you to "walk through walls" …
Pandora Wilson: Yes, it's a fantastic silver hairpin. Roughly crafted but interestingly shaped. It is also lightweight and easy to carry, making it a rare, high-quality wand.
Pandora Wilson: It came from Ms. Huò in the story, Ms. Fu's grandmother. She, in turn, had gotten the silver hairpin from her grandmother.
Pandora Wilson: It is worn by women in their family—mothers, wives, and daughters.
Pandora Wilson: Thanks to intermarriage, it had been worn in the hair of Arcanists and Humans, of pure and of mixed blood.
Pandora Wilson: Some of its owners could use it, and wield its great power to save lives. Some couldn't, and with them it would rest peacefully, serving as only a decoration.
Pandora Wilson: This seems to me to be the essence of the "East," a microcosm of different limitations.
Pandora Wilson: And the "bones" you see in me come from a different "framework" the one that defines the West.
Pandora Wilson: I wonder, what do you think causes these differences between us?
Getian: What you really ask is, why do two trees grow different branches?
Taking the silver hairpin, the tips of the wings cross to lift it up.
Getian: As the famous saying goes here, "Oranges grown south of the Huai River are true oranges; but if they are transplanted north of the river, they become acrid and bitter."
Getian: The same seed, sown in different places, will yield different fruit.
Getian: It may have something to do with the way the seed was sown … Or maybe with the rain, sun, wind, and dew. All of it is related.
Getian: So why ask such a question? Do you perhaps long to go back in time and correct these two trees as they branch off in different directions?
Pandora Wilson: … I have no such intention.
Pandora Wilson: I'm just trying to record things as they are and find the answers to my questions.
Getian: You said you were an interviewer.
Getian: Do your interviews seek definitive answers?
Pandora Wilson: No … Of course not. UTTU is meant to show ideas, thoughts, and the true essence of things.
Pandora Wilson: It is meant to be a showcase, a pioneering consciousness. Not a textbook or a tool.
Getian: That's what I see in you, Ms. Pandora Wilson.
Getian: Focusing on these minutiae will lead you astray.
Gětiān takes a step forward, gently tossing the silver hairpin in his hand ahead of him. With a jingle, the tip of the hairpin strikes the wall squarely.
He has long known the incantation to open the hole.
Getian: "Is the Art of Walking Through Walls not marvelous?"
Light reappears. Ms. Fù, who is waiting with a curious expression outside the walls of Zhící, tugs on her cousin's sleeve and shakes it vigorously.
Young Girl: Ms. Mouth's words really worked. She said she wanted to see the birdman, and her words got him to come out!
Getian: The walls of this place are like a prison. But if you have the skill to penetrate their walls, it is a small matter to escape.
The blank white paper stands beside the hole in the wall, its crimson lips pursed slightly.
Pandora Wilson: Thank you for your wisdom.
