Chapter 1- The Boy Beneath the Willow Tree
The first thing Li Wei noticed about Hangzhou was the lake.
He had seen rivers before. He had seen small ponds behind houses and streams that disappeared into the countryside. But West Lake was different. It seemed almost endless to six-year-old Wei.
The water reflected the mountains in the distance, and willow trees stretched their branches toward the surface as though they were trying to touch their own reflections. Small boats moved slowly across the lake, and the sound of people talking drifted through the warm afternoon air.
Wei stood beside his mother, holding a small wooden box filled with brushes.
“Do you like it?” Madam Li asked.
Wei nodded.
“It is beautiful.”
His mother smiled. “Then perhaps Hangzhou will become home.”
Their family had recently moved to the city because of his father’s scholarly work. Wei missed the home they had left behind, but he was curious about his new surroundings.
That afternoon, Madam Li allowed him to walk near the lake while she spoke with a family acquaintance nearby.
Wei found a quiet place beneath a large willow tree.
He sat on a flat stone and carefully placed a sheet of paper in front of him.
He dipped his brush into black ink.
Wei loved painting.
He was only six, but he already enjoyed trying to capture the things he saw around him. That afternoon, he decided to paint the willow tree and the lake.
He was concentrating so hard that he didn’t hear someone running toward him.
“Watch out!”
Wei looked up.
A boy about his age came rushing down the path.
He had messy black hair, dusty clothes, and the energetic expression of someone who had never learned how to walk when running was an option.
The boy stepped directly into a muddy puddle.
Splash!
Mud and water flew everywhere.
Wei stared at his painting.
A large brown splash covered the bottom half of the page.
The boy froze.
“Oh.”
Wei slowly looked at him.
The boy swallowed.
“I can explain.”
Wei pointed at the ruined painting.
“You ruined it.”
“I know.”
“You weren’t even looking where you were going.”
“I was looking.”
“You were looking behind you.”
The boy paused.
“That might have been the problem.”
Wei tried not to laugh.
The boy crouched beside him.
“My name is Chen Hao.”
Wei crossed his arms.
“I’m Li Wei.”
Hao looked at the painting.
“I can fix it.”
Wei raised an eyebrow.
“You can?”
“Of course.”
Hao took the brush.
Wei immediately looked worried.
Hao dipped it into the ink and began drawing.
A few moments later, he proudly held up the paper.
Wei stared.
Hao had somehow turned the muddy mark into something that vaguely resembled a mountain.
Or perhaps a chicken.
Wei wasn’t sure.
“What is it?” Wei asked.
“A mountain.”
“It looks like a chicken.”
Hao frowned.
“It is a mountain shaped like a chicken.”
Wei burst out laughing.
Hao began laughing too.
Their laughter carried beneath the willow tree.
From that day forward, they became friends.
They explored the lake together. They raced along the paths. Hao taught Wei how to skip stones, although Wei was much better at it than Hao expected.
Wei taught Hao how to hold a painting brush correctly.
Hao continued holding it incorrectly.
“You’re doing it wrong,” Wei said.
“I know.”
“Then why are you still doing it?”
“Because I like doing it my way.”
Wei sighed.
“You are impossible.”
“And you’re too serious.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Wei smiled.
Their friendship grew with every passing season.
When Wei was lonely, Hao was there.
When Hao got into trouble, Wei was usually nearby telling him that whatever he had done was probably a bad idea.
Their families soon became familiar with one another.
Madam Li often smiled when Hao came running through their courtyard.
“Is Wei home?”
“He’s in the study,” she would answer.
Hao would immediately disappear.
General Chen, Hao’s father, was amused by the friendship as well.
“They are very different boys,” he once said.
Madam Li smiled.
“Sometimes different people are exactly what each other needs.”
Neither Wei nor Hao understood what their friendship would eventually become.
For now, they were simply two boys beneath a willow tree, sharing drawings, stories, laughter, and countless afternoons beside West Lake.
Neither knew that years later, they would return to this same place and remember the beginning of everything.
