[ hong lu considers this. a book without a title until the book is finished. then how, hong lu wonders, would anyone know what the book is about without reading it? what if the book is never finished. but it's yi sang - yi sang will always finish what he has started to write. he wrote those letters after all, the letters that were very much like a cry for help. anyone with the courage to write those, no matter how subconsciously, has the courage to finish their story.

hong lu thinks, suddenly, that he would like to see it. the title of that finished book. ]

I look forward to it. I want to read it when it's done.

[ hong lu smiles, and drops another handful of broken glass shards upon yi sang's page. ] So don't rip out too many pages. Otherwise, there's less space for you to write everything you want to, right? And there'll be less for me to read.