Chapter 56
Unexpectedly, it actually pointed out a path to follow. Climbing the small slope, Gu Xinglian recognized the place before him as the place he needed to stop, but the damage was only slightly less than that caused by an abyss capable of swallowing anything. I was once again struck by the fact that his childhood had managed to destroy everything familiar.
He stared intently at the small platform. It was probably no more than 1.2 meters high, enough for a child to walk up from behind rather than climb directly. The stainless steel handrail had long since collapsed, and the dry little patch of ground showed no signs of life.
He suddenly turned around and sat down on it.
I shouldn't need to sit. I looked at Gu Xinglian; his face was blurry in the backlight.
“This place used to be very beautiful,” he said. “There were lots of flowers.”
He remained silent for a long while. I didn't say anything either.
“I should let it go,” he said softly. “Because I know that forcing someone to do something often only makes them hate me. This isn’t because I’m considering the possibility of a painful outcome, but simply because he’s not the type of person who can be easily influenced by others.”
"I don't know why I can't do it... I would rather someone hate me."
He ran his fingers through his hair.
I slowly took his hand in mine. It was cold, his palm damp. This was the hand he had used to cover his wound. It was clean, his nails neatly trimmed.
"What would you do if you were in that situation?"
He threw the question at me.
I shook my head: "I don't want to make decisions for others."
“That’s definitely something you would do,” he muttered. “And you won’t regret it, right?”
“Maybe,” I said. “But if, as you say, he was deceived and only realized it before he died, I would regret it.”
"What is there to regret?"
"I regret not talking more to the people I care about, and telling them not to worry about me, that I know everything."
"Ah..." His voice was hoarse.
"I will definitely not regret what I did. If I did regret it, it would be very painful. So as not to be in pain, I will not regret it."
"Then why do it in the first place?"
I thought about it for a moment.
"Perhaps it's heroism? Or a messianic complex? Maybe he's too eager to be a savior. Does he usually suppress his feelings in any way?"
Gu Xinglian looked at me with the same gaze one would give a stranger.
I smiled and said, "Excuse me, is this kind of speculation an insult to him? I didn't mean it."
There was silence for a while.
"Perhaps you are right. It's just that I haven't noticed some things that have gone unnoticed."
I have no intention of taking that responsibility. "I'm just speculating. Perhaps he was simply forced into it. The responsibility was too great, so he had no choice but to bite the bullet and go for it."
He asked me with great concern, "Do you think he will succeed?"
I countered by asking him, "Shouldn't I be the one to ask you that?"
"He must be very important to you. Given someone so important, would you want him to succeed or fail?"
"I hope he comes back."
Gu Xinglian said quietly.
His expression was melancholy, so much so that I could feel it even when he was backlit.
"I hope he comes back and continues to be happy."
My conclusion: "So you hope he doesn't die. Regardless of success or failure, he can't die in the end."
“You could say that,” he said. “Because when a person dies, nothing remains. I can believe in ghosts and spirits, but I don’t accept that seeing him is because I’ve driven myself insane or taken hallucinogenic drugs.”
"It's not always necessary to take medicine. There are also poisonous mushrooms."
He didn't laugh at my joke.
He pondered for a moment, then extended a hand to me. I gently placed my hand on it, and for no apparent reason, I felt like I was about to dance a ballroom dance.
"My hands are so cold! I wish they wouldn't get so cold on you."
"It's not that bad. My hands aren't very hot either."
"Normally, I could warm your hands."
"Isn't this considered normal?"
Gu Xinglian paused.
“I guess it counts now,” he explained, “but it’s a bit special.”
I'm speechless.
We both know what this means. It's like I've been talking to him for so long, saying things that sound like riddles, making it seem like I really care about someone who doesn't exist.
I can't tell whether this place is real or not.
I can't tell whether this person is real or not.
That's enough. A vague attitude. Sometimes the truth is only meant to offer comfort.
"Please accept my condolences." I repeated what I had said before.
"Is it really impossible to go back?" he asked.
I laughed at him: "It would be faster to call the police than to ask me, wouldn't it?"
The wound on my neck is gone; the healing power of the seed is more decisive and efficient than any words we can use.
Do you like flowers?
"At least I don't really like the way it looks when it's been taken off."
"Then I'll have to put you in a difficult position." He smiled slyly, "When you say goodbye to me, will you pick out a bouquet of flowers for me?"
"Sure," I agreed readily. "I can even choose the type of flowers myself. Do you need them?"
"I couldn't have gotten it."
He stepped down from the platform: "It seems you haven't told us about yourself yet."
"It's been so long, and you're only now becoming curious about me right before you leave?"
"Let's not go anywhere else. Let's just hide here."
"This doesn't count as hiding. Besides, there aren't any azalea trees here."
"Could you plant one?"
He clearly asked the question impulsively. He was caught off guard.
“Maybe,” I said, “but it will most likely die. If you force me to agree, I won’t refuse, but: you kill it.”
“I’m willing to kill it,” he said. “Plant one for me.”
I'm certain I wasn't thinking anything. But I know what I've been hoping for, a hope that's intertwined with my obsession, so no one will notice.
The azaleas were a deep, blood-red color. I looked at Gu Xinglian, certain that he needed the most common purplish-pink.
"Could this be a warning?" he asked me quietly, without getting angry. "Like, it symbolizes a certain ending or something."
“I’d rather it just be an ordinary azalea,” I replied. “It doesn’t need to bear any responsibility for anyone.”
“You’re right,” he said. He stood there, looking thoughtful. I guessed he was thinking about how to hide down there.
And this power is something that everyone knows. I always thought it was some kind of forbidden secret.
I placed my hand at its base, and soon it grew to be half the height of Gu Xinglian's. If it curled up, it could completely fit itself inside.
“That’s how you do it,” I said.
"What are you doing?" he asked me, not quite understanding.
I asked in surprise, "Aren't you going to hide down there?"
He calmly replied, "But I'm the only one who doesn't want to be found by fate."
"..."
I have nothing to say.
“You haven’t shared your hobbies with me yet.” He said earnestly, “What do you like? What do you dislike? What are you allergic to? What books do you read? What do you think of your current major? Standing is too tiring, let’s sit down together for a while.”
"I don't have any likes or dislikes yet," I said, unable to persuade him otherwise. "But I remember I did at the beginning. I've lost the ability to like or dislike."
"I think I'm not having an allergic reaction anymore. I'm still reading. My major is so-so, but I know some nice people. I'm not tired, and I don't really want to sit."
"Don't you know you'll turn pale after using your abilities?" Gu Xinglian pressed me down to sit. "Rest is essential."
I'm speechless again.
"Do you have any special experiences? Something you can't forget... or something like that?"
This is something I need to think about for a while. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Gu Xinglian was very nervous, his fingers curled up.
“All my experiences,” I said firmly, “whether I remember them or not, all the experiences that happened to me, I can’t bear to let them go.”
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