16. French Suite No. 5, Sarabande

◎Cannot Escape◎

Such weather is rare in Beijing in mid-May, with fog and haze intertwined, making the whole world seem drunk when you look outside.

The day before yesterday it rained heavily, the day before that it was windy, yesterday the sky was clear and sunny, but today it's all murky, as if all the weather is going to be in a tug-of-war within a week, with countless scents mingling, making even boring Beijing smell refreshing like the kind of cleansing that's often used in art films.

The heat was dignified, the coolness was refined, and sunlight peeked through the murky air, sometimes bright, sometimes dim. It was a letter without a stamp, with a hesitant, half-hearted attitude. Liang Chuling also hesitated, and opened the door hesitantly, thinking it was a neighbor or Aunt Zhang. But when the door opened, the person standing outside was not anyone she expected.

She was a young woman who was equally hesitant.

He looked to be in his early thirties, with a slightly uneasy expression on his face and red eyes, as if he had been crying.

Liang Chuling felt the photo looked familiar, and in a flash, the image of them cuddling on her father's computer flashed through her mind.

It's her.

The woman was also taken aback when she saw Liang Chuling, clearly not expecting this young girl to open the door.

She hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Is Mr. Liang home?"

An alarm bell rang in Liang Chuling's mind, but her face remained expressionless: "Not here."

The woman's eyes dimmed: "I can't get through to him on the phone. There are some things I want to ask him in person."

“You can’t get through to him on the phone, and it won’t do you any good even if you come to his house.” Liang Chuling’s voice was a little cold.

She didn't hate these women, but she certainly didn't like them either. She just found them annoying.

Amidst the turmoil, a truth was revealed: Liang's father's departure from home again was not for this woman.

“I know this is presumptuous, but I really have no other choice. He wasn’t like this before. He said he would get a divorce and give me an explanation.”

Liang Chuling found these words absurd.

Explain?

She, as a daughter, came to demand an explanation from her father.

“That’s between you two,” Liang Chuling interrupted her, preparing to close the door. “You’ve come to the wrong place.”

The woman reached out and blocked the door, her emotions rising: "How could he do this! He just disappeared like that!"

Before she could finish speaking, tears began to fall.

As Liang Chuling watched her cry, a mixture of annoyance and weary observation filled her heart. Looking at her was like looking at another possible version of her mother.

“It’s no use telling me this,” Liang Chuling sighed, trying to reason with him. “I can’t control him, and I can’t help you.”

She took a step forward and stepped outside.

He took out his phone and dialed Liang's father's number in front of her. No one answered.

I called Ms. Ma again, but she didn't answer until the phone rang several times.

"Hey? Honey, what's wrong?"

Liang Chuling: "Dad's...partner has come to our house."

Ms. Ma's voice betrayed a hint of impatience: "Why did she find her way to our house? What did she say to you?"

"She didn't have anything nice to say to me."

“Okay, ignore her, let her make a scene, she’ll leave when she’s done. Don’t stay at home for the next few days, get a hotel room, it’ll be quieter, Mom will reimburse you.” After Ms. Ma finished speaking, someone called her from the side, and she hurriedly added, “Mom is busy here, I’ll hang up now.”

Holding her phone, Liang Chuling looked at the tearful woman in front of her and wondered why she had to face the mess that the adults had made and why she had to hide from it.

She said to the woman, "You heard it too. He won't see you, and my mother wants you to leave. You're not welcome here."

After saying that, she turned around and walked into the house without looking at the other person again, preferring to stay out of sight.

Perhaps he was too angry and rushed, and when he stepped over the threshold, his left ankle twisted, and he lost control and fell to the side.

That's it. That was her last thought before she collapsed.

The expected complete collapse did not occur. The woman rushed over and cushioned Liang Chuling's fall with her own body, especially protecting Liang Chuling's hands with great concern.

Most of Liang Chuling's weight fell on her, and her hands were firmly held by the woman, so she was unharmed.

The two of them fell into a messy, awkward heap.

The woman, tears still streaming down her face, disregarded her own discomfort and immediately sat up, her first instinct being to reach for Liang Chuling's hand. Checking her fingers and wrist, her eyes filled with panic and apology, she asked, "Are you alright? Your hand! Is your hand okay? You still have to play the piano."

Liang Chuling was stunned by her sudden protection. The pain came from her ankle, but the psychological impact was even more acute.

This woman, whom she should theoretically despise, protected her most precious possession in that instant.

Even her father never cared about the future of her hands.

"My hand is fine." Liang Chuling pulled her hand back; the touch had given her an awkward warmth.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, realizing she had overstepped her bounds. She released her grip and turned to look at the woman's feet, asking, "Where are your feet?"

Liang Chuling winced in pain: "It seems like something's wrong."

What followed exceeded the sum of Liang Chuling's life experience.

This woman, whom she should theoretically consider an enemy, helped her up and drove her to the nearest hospital.

The car was very clean, with no fragrance and no music playing.

It was too quiet, so the woman tried to make conversation: "I also learned piano when I was little. I studied for six years. Later, my family couldn't afford it anymore, so I stopped playing. You play really well; I've searched for your competition videos online."

Therefore, knowing the value of these hands also involves projecting one's own unfulfilled dreams and cherishing one's talent.

The road to the hospital is beautifully landscaped with a variety of colors, flowing gracefully and complemented by orderly waterfalls, much like Liang Chuling, and also like many other people.

Actually, she really likes riding in cars like this; they're incredibly clean and tidy.

There are no decorations, no dolls, no cushions, no aromatherapy, no blessing ribbons, and no music. It's rare to see such a car. What's even rarer is the identity of the car's owner. And what's even rarer is that she has all these things: her identity, the owner's identity, and this particular car.

Liang Chuling wondered if she was sleepwalking.

She regained her senses only after the doctor touched the painful spot.

Register, pay the fees, get an X-ray, and wait for the results.

Throughout the entire process, the two barely exchanged any words.

The woman seemed even more nervous than she was, glancing at her every now and then, as if she wanted to say something but hesitated.

The diagnosis was a minor fracture of the left ankle, requiring a cast for immobilization and at least a week of rest.

Liang Chuling sat in the examination room, watching the doctor put a cast on her. The woman stood beside her, holding her medical record, and whispered, "I'm sorry, if I hadn't gone to your house, you wouldn't have fallen."

Liang Chuling shook her head: "It has nothing to do with you, it was my own carelessness."

She suddenly thought of Shinji Ikari; every time he encountered an Angel, it seemed to be due to some kind of accident. Thinking of this, she also thought of Li Xun; it was he who brought that manga into her world. Unfortunately, she hadn't read it since that bookstore visit.

After the cast was applied, the woman drove her home.

The car was parked in front of the villa, and the two sat inside, the atmosphere awkward.

"How much is the medical bill? I'll transfer it to you," Liang Chuling said first.

The woman shook her head: "No need. It was all because of me anyway."

Liang Chuling didn't insist any further. She opened the car door, hopped out on one foot, and steadied herself by holding onto the door.

"Thank you for taking me to the hospital," she said.

The woman immediately got out of the car, helped Liang Chuling into the living room, and apologized again on the way.

When Liang Chuling got home, she struggled to sit down. The woman was standing in the center of the living room and saw the family photo hanging on the wall. In the photo, Liang's father was embracing his mother, and Liang Chuling was standing in the middle, smiling foolishly.

"You two seem very happy," the woman said with a hint of self-deprecation. "I'm sorry. I know, I know it looks bad that I came to your house. I didn't come here to cause trouble, I just can't find him. All contact methods have been lost, like he's vanished into thin air."

She looked at Liang Chuling, her voice trembling with sincerity: "Finding a job is hard. When I met him, he said he would help me, that he admired my abilities, and that his marriage was unhappy and that they had been separated for a long time, only maintaining the facade for the sake of the children. I don't want to break up your family. I just want an explanation. Don't just disappear like this. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come to you, I shouldn't have said these things to you, you're still so young."

Liang Chuling turned her face away and didn't reply. She felt sorry for this woman, unlike her mother, who knew everything but could still smile and brush it off. This woman seemed to be kept in the dark, thinking that Liang's father would do something to her.

"He won't do anything with you. He must have said the same things to other women before, and it always ended up being the end of it."

The redness in the woman's eyes became even more pronounced: "How did you know?"

Liang Chuling said casually, "I'm his daughter, I know him. Don't believe what he says. He knows you learned piano when you were little but then stopped, right? But he didn't send you to continue learning, he just tormented you."

These words were too embarrassing, but Liang Chuling didn't want to make things awkward for her or the situation, so she asked again, "What's your name? My name is Liang Chuling."

——

With more free time, Liang Chuling started searching for "EVA". She hadn't finished reading the manga that Li Xun had bought for her before, and now that she had the time, she decided to watch the anime.

In the third episode, Shinji Ikari, out of fear, tries to escape NERV, but is stopped by Misato Katsuragi. Misato Katsuragi says, "You can't escape. If you escape, you'll lose everything."

We cannot escape.

These three words are dangerous; they can bind a person's hands and feet, and they can also unlock the void.

She remembered that Li Xun told her this story about "not running away," but it turned out that it was actually about "not being able to run away."

It's truly a case of the difference being so small that it leads to a huge error.

Li Xun was too kind and always reluctant to be too assertive. "Don't run away," he said earnestly and comfortingly, like a confession.

"No escape" implies both danger and certainty, but it suits Liang Chuling better.

No, no, I can't escape.

It was late when my phone suddenly vibrated. It was another message from Li Xun: "I think I lost my phone. Can you call me?"

Unaware of what was going on, Liang Chuling made a WeChat call, which Li Xun answered immediately: "Found it, thank you, little genius."

Liang Chuling then realized how absurd the excuse was, and that she had actually believed it.

She sneered, "Heh."

Li Xun didn't care at all and continued to ask, "You haven't replied to any messages all day, are you okay? Your voice sounds a little hoarse. Did you drink enough water today?"

Liang Chuling's legs hurt and she didn't want to move, so she started making up a story: "I've had enough to drink. I'm fine, I might just have a bit of a cold."

Li Xun asked worriedly, "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? It's my fault for not asking... Is your cold serious? Have you taken any medicine? Shall I order you some orange juice? Do you want some kiwi? Am I disturbing your rest by calling?"

Liang Chuling suddenly felt like crying.

The animation depicts the ultimate cowardice and despair, the inability to bear the loneliness and pain of individual existence, so it chooses to return to the undifferentiated womb.

But even amidst pain, even amidst hurt, my existence, and yours, are unique. The sensation of being choked is proof that I am still alive.

Even if this existence is so wretched.

Everyone has their own apostle, and they must face it on their own.

She needs to face all of this on her own.

There's really no way to escape.

——

The fracture forced Liang Chuling to give up the opportunity to perform with a visiting Russian piano master, a female pianist she had long admired, known for her steely tenderness in interpreting Chopin.

She still went to the concert hall on the day of the performance. The male pianist who replaced her didn't play well enough, which made Liang Chuling even more upset. She didn't want the Russian master to think that Chinese pianists were nothing special.

The applause was like fine needles, pricking her heart in a strange place called regret.

It reminds her how her fate was derailed by a farcical accident.

Liang Chuling never told Li Chi and Li Xun about the fracture.

The former was because it was unnecessary; a weekly video class could continue as usual, with minimal impact. The latter was because she didn't want Li Xun to worry, nor did she want him to think she was weak.

Li Chi didn't notice anything unusual. Li Xun saw that she was acting normally, so he didn't think much of it.

After asking her teacher for leave, Liang Chuling resumed a regular life. She spent most of her day practicing the piano, and when she got tired, she would collapse on the sofa to memorize vocabulary or look at sheet music.

She would also walk around the neighborhood with a cane, not wanting her physical fitness to decline too much. Practicing the piano was physically demanding, and competitions were an even greater test of her physical condition; she didn't want to lose in such matters.

Someone was strolling around the neighborhood singing "Seven Mile Fragrance" as the wind blew the singer's voice back and forth, making it sound sometimes clear and sometimes deep, swaying gently.

It's not like someone singing, it's like someone singing along. When they sing the parts they know, they sing the song as easily as eating noodles. When they get to the parts they don't know, they can only clap their hands and sip the song gently and slowly, like eating afternoon tea.

She lives in the sunken garden of the community. To get home, she has to climb the steps from the bottom up. She climbs one step at a time.

The wind lifted the hem of her clothes, and the fragrance of seven-mile jasmine in the distance had somehow transformed into a farewell. The off-key melody mixed with the sirens of ambulances on the street outside the community. The high notes sounded like a cat scratching a screen window, while the low notes sounded like an old record cassette tape. Occasionally, there was the sound of clapping, as if someone was keeping time in the air, all of which together formed a river.

Liang Chuling felt as if she were in a movie theater, anxiously searching for a seat row by row because she was late and the background music was playing, while the audience was already applauding the exciting plot.

For the past ten years or so, she has always considered herself the protagonist, wanted to be the protagonist, and only thought about being the protagonist. Now, returning to the audience, she is still a latecomer, which makes her feel somewhat annoyed. All her emotions are accompanied by a sense of incongruity.

I ran into Lin Jiani again at the gate on my way home.

A wave of absurd exhaustion washed over her, and Liang Chuling was speechless: "You don't need to come anymore. My dad isn't coming home. You're just wasting your time waiting."

Lin Jianni was startled and quickly waved her hand: "No, I didn't come to see him." She handed over the large canvas bag in her hand, "These are some bone recovery supplements and some plasters. My family deals in Chinese medicinal herbs. You can use these plasters."

Liang Chuling felt a little confused, as if the air was stiff and wouldn't enter her nose on its own, requiring her to breathe very hard.

Instead of taking the canvas bag, Liang Chuling only looked at Lin Jiani's wrist, which was exposed when she reached forward, and saw a purple bruise with yellowish edges.

Suddenly I remembered seeing it through the glass before—Lin Jianni had a bruise on her forehead.

Liang Chuling suddenly blurted out, "Who hit you?"

Lin Jianni immediately pulled her hand back, pulled her sleeve down to cover the evidence, and remained silent.

Liang Chuling had another brain fart: "My dad hit you?"

Lin Jiani looked up at her, her eyes filled with shame. She didn't admit it, but that was tantamount to admitting it.

Liang Chuling looked at her and suddenly got angry. She wasn't angry at her father, and she shouldn't be angry at Lin Jiani either.

She didn't know who to be angry at.