What is the Lost Aquarium?
Deep beneath the ocean, in the unseen layers of dark blue, lies a long-forgotten aquarium buried under the sand. Above its glass dome—now scattered with fine grains of silt—corals, shellfish, shrimp, and seaweed have made their home. The glass, though cracked and dulled by time, still preserves the last breath of what remains within.
Legend has it that an old man once lived inside this sunken place. Yet no one can say for sure. Before he moved into the aquarium, no one seemed to know who he was. He passed through life like a quiet visitor, never intruding upon anyone’s world—as though he had been born into solitude itself.
One evening, as the sun dipped into the sea, a fisherman returned from his day’s labor. He dragged his heavy net across the beach and happened to glance toward the shore. There, in the golden light, he saw a man walking slowly toward the water, suitcase in hand. With every step on the scattered stones, the man sank deeper into the sea—until he vanished completely beneath the waves.
Later that night, a curious detective broke into the man’s abandoned home. What he discovered was haunting in its serenity. The entire room had been painted a deep, solemn blue. The only warmth came from the faint orange glow of a kerosene lamp hung under the eaves. In the corner sat a single bed, perfectly made, its sheets untouched. A white desk nearby held a stack of neatly illustrated marine life—whales, dolphins, jellyfish, sea turtles—all hand-drawn with meticulous care. A cup of red tea still sat on the desk, radiating a faint, lingering warmth.
Among the scattered papers, the detective noticed an old envelope—no name, no address, no stamp. Inside was a letter. He read it silently, and as he finished, a subtle, mysterious smile appeared on his face. Then he left, taking nothing with him.
In the weeks that followed, the man’s name began appearing in the newspapers. His disappearance sparked fascination, even reverence. He was quickly romanticized, elevated into the status of a martyr. Admirers, believers, and curious minds from across the country began seeking him out, hoping to understand the truth of his life.
But the ocean is vast, and its silence is absolute. It offers no signs, no answers. From the horizon to the depths, all one sees is blue—life teeming yet unreadable. Slowly, the followers gave up. The myth faded. The aquarium, too, was forgotten, like a story never retold.
The content of the letter, however, survived. In it, the man wrote:
“One understands how small we are the moment we step into the ocean.
One sees how vast the world is and no longer questions it.
The sea is one, and yet it is a billion things.
I can touch the water, but it never stays in my hand.
Just as books are infinite, knowledge is formless.
Just as a person can never truly see themselves, I can never be a part of the ocean.
I am finite.
All I can do—whether on land or beneath the waves—is quietly observe the world through glass, and slowly build my own aquarium.
Truth, and everything else, is hidden in the ocean.
And the only truth the ocean has given me is this:
truth never truly existed.”
He concluded with a reflection:
“It may sound bleak. But isn’t reading a book at the bottom of the ocean a kind of romance?”
“Everyone carries a lost aquarium within them.”
A hundred years later, by chance, a young man stumbled upon the old man’s story and was deeply moved. Inspired, he vowed to reconstruct the lost aquarium—not underwater, but on land. It would not be a museum of facts, but a space of wonder. He found joy in the pleasure of unknowing, in observing the world gently, through metaphorical glass.
His story, unlike the old man’s, was only just beginning.
(Originally in Chinese, translated by ChatGPT)
大海的深处、看不见的深蓝中，一座水族馆被掩埋在沙子里。她的头上居住着贝类、珊瑚、游虾、海草，只剩下一个散落细沙的玻璃穹顶维持着她的呼吸。传说中，这失落的水族馆中居住着一位老人，但谁也不知真假。在搬进水族馆前，没有人认识他。他就像匆匆过客，没有闯进任何人的生活——他似乎一出生就是孤独的。
一天，夕阳下，捕鱼人正从木船上下来，拖着厚重的渔网疲惫地走在回家路上。在海岸看到他拖着皮箱子、踩着碎石，在暖阳下从容地一步步沉入冰冷的海水里。夜晚，侦探闯入他的房间，看到了眼前的一幕——整个屋子都被粉刷成了深邃的蓝色，只有屋檐的煤油灯带来橘色的温暖。一尘不染的单人床放在房间一角，整齐的床褥好似从未使用过。骨白的桌前放着一张张海洋生物的手稿——鲸鱼、海豚、海龟、水母；手边的红茶还散发着些许余温。侦探仔细地检查着桌边，突然在一张张散乱的白纸中注意到了一个信封。斑驳的信上没有姓名、没有地址、更没有邮票。他小心翼翼地取出信纸，读罢，就带着神秘的微笑离开了房间。
没有人不喜欢殉道者。他的名字在报纸上刊登，很快便在整个国家里繁殖。他的信仰者们崇拜他，想方设法寻找他、拜访他。可是茫茫海洋，处处是深蓝、遍地是生命，站在地平线上，谁也分不出个所以然。信仰者们一个个离开，他的传说也慢慢被遗忘，就像他的水族馆一样消失在时间里。
在那封信里他说，“人有多渺小，踏入海洋便知。世界有多大，进入海洋也就不再过问。海水是一、也是亿。我可以触摸到水，但是他们从不会在我手中停留。就像‘书’是无穷无尽的、‘知识’是缥缈无形的、‘人’是永远无法看清自己的。大海无限，我作为有限的存在不能成为他的一部分。我能做的，不管在陆地还是深蓝，只是小心翼翼地透过玻璃观察这个世界、一点一点慢慢地修建自己的水族馆。真理和一切的一切都藏在大海里，因为他教会我，唯一确定的真理就是真理从未存在。”
“说起来悲观，但坐在海底看书，怎不算浪漫。”
“每个人心里都有一座失落的水族馆。”
出于偶然，百年后，一个年轻人听说了他的故事后大受震撼，决心听从他的教诲，在陆地上重建这失落的水族馆，知足地享受无知的乐趣。他的故事还远远没有结束。