donna kissed me on my face

I looked at her quietly. She was no longer a fresh and tender branch but a flower fairy with fragrance from head to toe. As the song eulogized, her red lips were like honey, morning dew like weeping tears, delicate like a dream, as if the beginning of love. But she was so naive, and she seemed to be so young. Her situation was also more embarrassing than her peers, which did not seem to obliterate her natural optimism.

Although my mother's warnings, like a dark cloud, often cast an ominous shadow between Donna and me, I was afraid that I could not help myself and hug her.

She kind of fascinated me – it was a joy to watch her, and I was thrilled to be alone with her like this. I was unsure what relationship I had with her: the admiration of a girl in general or the first love described in the novel? Would I forget my dreams beyond the mountains because of my nostalgia for her? The answer was no. I must go out of the deep forest and roam the rivers and lakes. What about Donna? She was a rose in the jungle and a clear spring in the mountains. Leaving this land would undoubtedly deprive her of her happiness. Maybe the good times of the moment would be short and sad, and my life trajectory would soon cause us to part ways? Thinking of this, I restrained my budding heart, not wanting to hurt her unintentionally. If possible, I would prefer to keep her in romance novels and take good care of her, like the kapok she gave me in my collection.

Donna plucked the strings twice, stopped, looked up at me, and waited for my compliment. I frowned on purpose and said, "This seems to be a love song for men and women. How could you play it when you were still a kid?"

"You forgot, I'm seventeen today!"

"The leader didn't say that you can sing love songs at seventeen."

"My mother was going to take me to my uncle's place. I should have a coming-of-age ceremony today, knot my hair, and put on a beautiful headscarf and a woman's three-piece skirt. Then, I can date and fall in love freely." She said that with great happiness written on her face.

I wondered why she gave up such a beautiful coming-of-age ceremony and asked, "Why didn't you go?"

"My love is not on the mountain; I don't want to be trapped there."

I echoed her: "Of course, you can't sell yourself just for a touching ceremony. But…" I wanted to ask her, where was your beloved? If it was me, how would I face it? How would I bear it if it was someone else, such as Siyan? Maybe she wasn't sure. Better not to ask! It was still a fantasy age.

Donna interrupted me, stood up, and said, "Let's go back. Be careful. Adults would look for us."

"Wait, I haven't complimented you yet. From my heart, you played and sang very well. After listening to it, I realized that you have grown up." I took out a plastic bag from my satchel and stuffed it into her hands, "Happy birthday to you!"

"Didn't you give me a gift yesterday?"

"The seventeenth birthday is exceptional, and the gifts must come in pairs."

When Donna saw it was a new military uniform, her face smiled like a sun. I knew she liked it, and I wanted to give it to her when she was a kid, until today. She had the gift in her arms, walked up to me, pushed the guitar behind her back, and said, "This is my best birthday present!" Then she raised her head and looked up. Her face was slowly approaching me. I could feel her cramped breath, her faint lemon scent, and a strand of her hair brushing my neck. She pursed her lips, kissed me on the face, and whispered, "Thank you!"

On the way back, Donna and I chatted and laughed and talked about the coming-of-age ceremony for girls on the mountain. When walking to the banana bushes, a weak cry for help came from the river, "Come, come."

We saw Dagui by the river. He was lying in the grass, soaked all over. The exposed skin on his face and body was swollen like steamed buns, and his head was like a giant pumpkin picked up from the water. He murmured: "Horse wasp…wasp sting…" Dagui was tall and heavy; we couldn't move him, so I asked Donna to go and get help, and I guarded him and asked him what was going on.

He got up that morning and wanted to go to the mountains to find some wild mushrooms to feed himself.

Seeing the magpies chirping on the tree by the river, there was a giant bird's nest on the tree, and there were eggs in the nest – he thought the eggs were stewed with mushrooms. It was unimaginable, what an excellent meal.

The bird's nest was overhead, and the food was just an arm's length away. The saliva in his mouth tasted like green vegetables, the stomach was like a dry forest, and a storm with meat was urgently needed. With persistence, he climbed the tree with difficulty, approaching the bird's nest inch by inch. When he was about to draw out a hand, he found that many small bright eyes were staring at him at the entrance of the bird's nest. He wanted to escape, but it was too late.

Countless wasps surrounded him like a storm, and he was plunged from the tree several feet high into the river!

He was likely to be alright, but I was afraid that he would have to endure the pain of flesh and blood for a week or two. I was worried that he had ruined his pair of musical hands, so I looked at them for him, and his fingers were still shaking well.

"I saw a bird's nest clearly; why isn't it a bird's nest?" He still couldn't figure it out and thought about the dizzy meal, "How about you go take a look?" he asked me.