That Toon Tree

    That ailanthus tree grew in my yard. It wasn't planted; it was naturally grown. It's always been in my memory, but I don't know if it's bigger or I'm bigger.

    In my yard, besides that ailanthus tree, there were walnut trees, paulownia trees, and poplar trees. They were all planted, probably with their future glory planned before they were even planted. Perhaps because people have certain expectations, their attitudes towards trees differ. That ailanthus tree was wild, and it came uninvited. This was originally an unexpected gain for people. But people didn't think so; they couldn't stand it. Perhaps it was because its growth cycle was relatively long, or because its trunk was crawling with various pests in the summer, or perhaps because its leaves didn't fall in a concentrated manner in autumn. Even amidst this favoritism, it still grew tenaciously; even like chives, it was cut down again and again, only to mysteriously grow back. Perhaps uprooting it would have been the best solution, but people didn't do it. Was it because they couldn't bear the stigma, or because they considered its potential use on a particular day?

    On Qingming Festival that year, the owner spoke up, saying it was affecting the feng shui. He said that if it were uprooted in the third lunar month, it would bring great fortune. So I was implicated, becoming an accomplice, probably because I believed in feng shui. I found a ladder, a shovel, a saw, and an axe. I sawed off all the branches and tied a very thick, long rope to them. Then I started digging a pit under the tree. When it was about a meter deep, the roots of the ailanthus were basically severed, and it was now teetering on the brink of collapse. With a few shouts and a final pull, the rope tied to the tree finally brought it crashing down.

    People got what they wanted; they would no longer suffer any discomfort because of it. As for the tree, in the face of people's indifferent neglect, its will to live vanished completely. Life was extinguished, leaving only a pile of dry wood and a piece of what might have been a fallen log. Because people have accepted the world built of cement and concrete, and the era of convenience with MDF has completely rejected the traditional style of solid wood! Almost no one accepts the consumerist view of high labor costs and solid wood structures anymore; even if there is, it's the first choice of the wealthy!

    The Chinese toon tree is a plant, but also a life, and it's been given a certain biased interpretation by humans. Perhaps in the present day, the tree has lost its significance as a "pillar of strength," becoming merely an oxygen-producing machine for improving people's living environment! From people's attitude towards trees, I see the misfortune of the Chinese toon tree, and I can also discern the favoritism that has evolved from the direct line and the indirect line. As I lifted that fallen stump, I saw the annual rings on its hand-saved cross-section, counting nearly thirty.

    These have been nearly thirty years of going against the tide, thirty years of discrimination, but also thirty years of rising for life. When it suffered injustice, I remained silent. Perhaps I knew the truth, yet I still became an accomplice. My pathetic state and the admirable nature of that ailanthus tree are thus clearly revealed!