Chapter 345
Outside, the wind was strong and snowing, the flakes whipped up by the gale like a riot of demons. Outside the window, the branches of a withered sycamore tree, two leaves still hanging on, rustled in the wind and snow. Although I lived on the second floor, I felt like I was in Wuthering Heights. This place certainly felt like an isolated island, its inhabitants rarely leaving their homes and never seeing guests.
The wind and snow outside made the house even warmer and quieter.
Today, he came home at noon, a rare occasion, so they didn't have to go out in such a heavy snowstorm this afternoon. They sat quietly on the bed, covered with a blanket, not talking much, listening to the wind and snow outside, checking to see if the leaves on the trees had fallen. Sometimes she would lean on his shoulder, sometimes he on hers, or she would rest her head on his legs, or he would rest his head on her legs.
At this time, he fell asleep with his head resting on her legs. She gently rubbed his hair. His hair was very soft and tender, like the fur of a kitten or puppy. He often buried his head in her arms, which was very comfortable. The first time he buried his head in her shoulder like that, she was so shocked. He had just made her like a flood or a beast, and now he was like a kitten.
Wang Jiazhi listened to the whistling sound of the wind outside, as if a train was rumbling from a distance and was about to break into the house through the window.
She recalled taking the train to Shanghai. It had been the same in all her past lives, always taking the boat to save money. She couldn't buy a ticket for the final leg, so she had to buy the cheapest third-class carriage. The lowest-class cabin was awful, with terrible turbulence. Many people who weren't prone to seasickness were also tossed around and vomited repeatedly. Her health was still good at the time, so she didn't vomit, but the smell in the cabin made her nauseous. She couldn't even sit up straight.
On the one-night train ride back home, three or two people were crammed into one seat, making it difficult to sit or stand. The carriage was filled with the unbearable smell of stinky socks and sweat.
But even the travel expenses were not easy to come by. I earned this money by copying things for several days without sleeping.
In her previous life, she was hopeless and lost. Coming to Shanghai was a hopeless experience. She was completely cornered, with no other choice but to take this path. She had no family left in Shanghai; her grandmother and uncle were both gone. She had known her aunt since she was a child. Her mother had also complained, "Your uncle is such a good person, why did he have to find someone like him?"
She did have hopes for this life. She was clearly avoiding him, and rationally couldn't look for him anymore. But even if she did, what would it matter? He didn't remember anything, and had no feelings for her. If she went to look for him, wouldn't she be walking into a trap and committing suicide? But in the dim carriage late at night, exhausted but unable to fall asleep, she endured the filthy air. She looked out at the dark and unrecognizable scenery, and the train rumbled through the night. She felt that the train would soon reach him and take her to him. There is a saying that life is a train heading for death, and she now has a more vivid understanding. In past lives and this life, she has been riding trains to find him.
Later, I thought, wasn't it the same in my past life? After I had completely ruined myself in such a disgusting and painful way, he took his wife and left on a plane. Then came the horrific nightmare, then the hunger and cold brought by war, the precariousness of life. At the age of twenty-three, around May, she returned to Shanghai. Five months later, she was with him, and two months later, she died.
It was as if she had returned to Shanghai just to find him, to be a brief visitor in his life, and then die at his hands. That's right, the moment her train reached him, she died. It was indeed a death train.
People say that some people come with a mission, and their lifelong efforts and struggles are actually just for one thing. Once the mission is done, they leave.
For example, many powerful kings, princes, generals, and ministers, especially those who founded dynasties or staged coups, were not necessarily inferior to their opponents, but they seemed to have a destiny. Every time they were clearly about to lose, a strong wind or heavy rain would suddenly blow, turning defeat into victory or escaping death.
Of course, these were too big for Wang Jiazhi, an ordinary person, to rely on. Smaller figures than those kings, princes, and generals, like Wang Ximeng, disappeared from history books after painting "A Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains," as if he had been born solely to paint this astonishing painting; or like those who relied on a single poem to achieve immortality, even surpassing the entire Tang Dynasty, without even their birth and death dates or names remaining, as if their entire lives were dedicated to writing this poem.
However, these people just didn't leave any traces afterwards, which didn't mean they were dead. It was as if she had endured humiliation and torture all her life, just to find him and die at his hands.
But Wang Jiazhi did not feel any resentment. She was willing to die in his hands. Her feelings for a person had reached the extreme. Everything about him was love.
But in this rare moment of total silence, the quieter it is, the easier it is to let your thoughts wander.
After hanging up the phone, she was utterly despairing. He took Mrs. Yi away on a plane, comfortably and quickly reaching Shanghai. Yet, she had to endure humiliation and torture, desperately trying to earn money for the journey, and endure the hardships of traveling by boat and bus. It took her three years to reach him. Then, after two months together, she died, as if she had never existed. He and Mrs. Yi continued their life together forever.
Perhaps this was fate. Mrs. Yi's family background was probably no better than hers, but God had arranged for her to have a husband who would one day hold a high position of power. If you discount the years of hard work in her youth, she could have enjoyed wealth and prosperity for half her life. Perhaps God felt that she deserved only such a life worse than death, so he died after living for twenty-three years.
She wasn't jealous of Mrs. Yi's wealth and splendor; she was simply jealous that she could accompany him for the rest of his life, that he could take her with him wherever he went. Could it be that she really owed him something in her past life, and that she had to repay him in this life, and then, when she was done, it was time to leave.
Once, in a previous life, she was playing cards with some ladies when he returned from outside, showed up briefly, chatted and laughed, and then left. She looked up at him; his face was pale, his eyes bloodshot. He hadn't been home yesterday, and now it was afternoon. He must have been up all day and night, and then stayed up until afternoon again.
She recalled how she'd copyed all day and all night long, without sleep, to earn money for the journey. Otherwise, she'd never have finished and earned the money. Her head felt like it was filled with lead, aching and numb, her eyes sore and dry. She'd tried to sleep but couldn't; it was an excruciating feeling.
At that time, she saw Mrs. Yi and the other ladies playing cards and chatting about the quality of diamonds and the styles of furs. In an instant, she was filled with anger. In her eyes, these people instantly became as hateful as Old Wu and Kuang Yumin.
She was furious and said in her heart, "Don't you see that he hasn't slept day and night after day, his eyes are red, his face is pale, and he looks very weak and haggard? Don't you even look at him and ask if he's tired or if he wants to eat?"
Of course, she knew that these were things that the wives of ordinary people would worry about. If he wanted to sleep, he could go to sleep. If he wanted to eat, the kitchen would cook it, and if he wanted something, the maid would get it. Mrs. Yi didn't need to worry about such trivial matters at all.
But what about the other things? There were other things. She recalled how Mrs. Yi had shouted and screamed with excitement when she learned he was getting a promotion. She only thought of her husband's promotion, his ever-higher status, the ever-increasing gifts and flattery, the ever-larger diamonds and furs. Even now, with his days in decline, she worried about whether he could maintain his wealth and glory, and whether he could escape home when the time came.
And what else? There are his lifelong ideals and ambitions, and his reputation before and after his death.
He was a poor boy from the countryside, without any family background or connections, who had fought hard all his life and endured all his hard work. He was finally destined to be recorded in history books, but he should have been included in the history books of loyal heroes. In the end, he made a misstep that led to eternal regret, and even the history books of treacherous flatterers thought he was unworthy.
If he only wanted high positions, wealth and glory, and had no ideals and beliefs, he would not have worked so hard when he was young and would never have made it to where he is today.
He's like a frightened bird, terrified of death. That's because he's guilty, without confidence, and lacks courage. If he still had confidence, he wouldn't be like this. His ideals and beliefs have been destroyed, leaving him with only one life, and he's afraid to lose it. If he still had those good things, he wouldn't be afraid of death, because there are always things more important and beautiful than life left.
Fame on half a piece of paper, thousands of mountains with wind and snow.
After enduring thousands of mountains and snows throughout his life, this is the result in the end.
When I was young, I worked hard, with endless things to do and endless worries to worry about. Now I am ruined and have lost all hope, but I still have to endure, with endless things to do and endless worries to worry about.
You are tortured to the point of being exhausted both physically and mentally, and when you get home, no one cares about you at all. Everyone is still playing cards, eating, drinking and having fun as usual.
Wang Jiazhi looked at Mrs. Yi and thought to herself, "Everything you have now is the result of your husband's lifelong reputation and achievements being a whore."
When Wang Jiazhi thought of Hong Kong, they said it was a heroic act for the country and the people, a life-threatening event. But when she, out of duty, destroyed her own innocence and did such a disgusting thing, she felt as sad as a ghost, while everyone else continued to eat and drink three times a day, as if everything was her own business and had nothing to do with them. Later, he left, and her sacrifice became a joke. Everyone looked down on her, looking at her with contempt, treating her like an unclean object. They packed up their things and planned to go back to school and continue their lives, leaving her in agony, hating her own stupidity and worthlessness. When she was suffering from self-deprecation and self-doubt, when she was in a warehouse crawling with rats and bugs and fearing that she would contract a disease, she was alone, always alone, and people went on with their lives.
Three years later, when Old Wu told her it was another major event that would benefit the country and the people, she slept with Old Yi until she became a prostitute in the eyes of Old Wu and the others. They then said the assassination wasn't so urgent or important anymore, and she seemed like a joke again.
Those people, who claimed at the beginning that they were doing it for justice, ended up becoming prostitutes themselves, and then nothing else mattered anymore. They continued to suffer, but they continued to live their lives happily as usual.
No matter how good the words sounded at the beginning, and in the end, it really went astray, it turned out that one was deceived and led down a path of no return, and there was no way to turn back.
The feeling of being the only one in agony while others continue to live happily is simply too torturous and unbearable.
Since ancient times, men value righteousness and women value chastity.
Now both of them are people who have lost their integrity. They are still alive, but in the eyes of the world they should have died long ago.
But the most terrifying thing is not the worldly perspective, but the barrier in one’s own heart.
If he could be as completely devoid of conscience as those people, he wouldn't be so afraid of such pain. Wouldn't it be good to live happily every day? If only he could be like Lai Xiujin. He never asked about her past, and even if he did, as long as she gritted her teeth and refused to talk about it, he would believe her. Wouldn't it be great for her to live happily every day with him and not be tormented by the past like this?
At that moment, she couldn't stay there any longer. She felt like she would go crazy if she faced these people again. She didn't remember what excuse she used to return to her room, but she threw herself on the bed and burst into tears. She knew that maybe she was just being childish and that what had just happened wouldn't make him sad at all, but she just wanted to cry, and she couldn't stop crying. She thought of him crying in her arms, not daring to scream in bed, and how he looked haggard and dark-eyed from lack of sleep, and she cried even harder.
It took her a while to stop crying. Her eyes were swollen. She washed her face and put on makeup before going out to continue playing cards.
Wang Jiazhi was lost in thought when the little calico cat she was staying with for the winter jumped up to her. She placed her index finger to her lips, signaling it not to wake her. The kitten meowed softly and quietly hopped off the bed. She noticed it had stepped on a few movie magazines near her pillow. The one on top happened to be the same old movie.
Come to think of it, the actress who played the lead role made such a huge sacrifice, yet in the end, while everyone else scooped up awards, she only received a consolation prize. She finally achieved fame, but while they both achieved it, she didn't have to make the same sacrifices. She was met with praise, unlike her, who was met with more criticism than acknowledgment. While she happily pursued her career after becoming famous, she shouldered all the responsibilities she shouldn't have, moving far away to avoid public opinion, and her career stalled. While everyone else continued filming new films and making public appearances to promote them, everyone carried on with their lives as usual, she was the only one who had to hide, unsure of what the future held. She spent three years in hiding before returning to the screen. She was in her twenties when she first became famous, and she was already thirty when she made her comeback. A woman's youth is truly precious, and a female artist's youth is even more precious.
When people asked her about what happened back then, she said: No journey is ever in vain.
What else could she say besides this, and what else could she dare to say?
Things in the world are so absurd and unreasonable, but what can we do about it?
He woke up at this time. Due to his occupational disease, he couldn't sleep for too long.
He saw her head leaning against the bed with her eyes closed, so he got up and tiptoed to her to lie down and have a good sleep. Just as he put her down, she opened her eyes mischievously and said with a smile, "I'm not asleep."
Then she rested her head on his legs, rolled up his trouser legs, and stroked her favorite woolen trousers.
Wang Jiazhi once thought that people with too much hair on their bodies looked like wild animals and were very scary. But from the beginning, she liked his woolen pants. They were really comfortable to touch and rub against.
He asked how she knew about the pregnancy. She'd been away for over six months, and in reality, only been back for three months. But once she'd returned, it was as if those six months hadn't happened at all. Everything had been seamlessly restored to the same state as before. They hadn't yet discussed the time they'd been apart.
She said proudly, "Of course I know. Men are just slower than women in many things. No matter how careful you are, it won't help."
Wang Jiazhi said this without a trace of guilt. In her previous life, she had been slow to realize it. Although she tried her best to be on guard in this life, she was actually eagerly waiting. She always felt that she owed her child something and needed to make it up to her.
She laughed and said, "They say life is like a train. I remember taking both a boat and a car from Hong Kong to get here, as if it was just to find you."
"Really? Then I'm very lucky."
"If I drove away and never came back, would you miss me?"
"Of course I will. Where do you live? People tell me what you do every day. I still want to think about you. If I really can't see you..."
At this point, he felt a sharp pain in his heart. It was strange, why was he sick now? It was the pain of an old illness recurring, not just now, but from long ago.
The second time in his previous life, when he was familiar with her body, he noticed the calluses on her hands and the marks left by frostbite on her feet.
At that time, I thought to myself, “She is a poor little girl.”
Thinking about how she didn't know how to sober up before and the lipstick stains on the cup, why did they find such an easily exposed little girl over there?
But he liked her very much. She was different from those women, even in bed. She was rebellious but also down-to-earth.
She was initially flustered by his abuse, but soon calmed down, endured it all, and responded to him with sincerity. He hadn't expected her to be so sincere and thoughtful amidst her loneliness and courage, and he couldn't bear to continue to torture her. Wang Jiazhi was a down-to-earth person. No matter what, as long as she made up her mind, she would do her best to do it with all her heart. Moreover, from the very beginning, her strong sincerity was also mixed with her unconscious feelings, which made the effect even more effective.
His ravages made her indulge and stimulate her, and then he became very gentle, making her even more intoxicated. After it was over, the kitten collapsed in his arms, without any strength left.
When he was about to leave, she threw her arms around his neck and, for the first time in her life, began to act like a spoiled child. Reason told her that as Mrs. Mai, she had to act authentically, and she wanted to linger on the warmth of her lover. But at the same time, as Wang Jiazhi herself, she was one with Mrs. Mai at this moment, and she also missed him.
Wang Jiazhi had no previous romantic experience, and her previous disgusting experiences had been a complete waste. He realized from the beginning that this little girl was different. While other women, after the lust faded, left no trace of attachment, this little girl was different. After the lust faded, he was even more reluctant to leave her than when they were together. She hadn't thought there was anything wrong with it at first. Even after the physical pleasure faded, why did she still want him around, wanted to see him?
Later, every time she stroked his hair and back, her bright big eyes looking at him tenderly and lovingly, he believed that she really understood him and loved him.
After her death, he watched the wives playing cards, buying jewelry and clothes, and eating and drinking as usual. He thought of the calluses on her hands from writing and the chilblains on her feet. He could give Mrs. Yi wealth and luxury, and Mrs. Ma and the others precious jewelry. Why was it that he could give nothing to the one he loved the most, not even the ring he had given her at the end?
Even later when I recalled her reactions in the first few times and her subsequent clinginess, it seemed that before that, she had never even enjoyed the pleasure of that poor body.
He heard his mother say that when she had nothing to do, she liked to sit by the window at night and look out, but he had no idea what she was looking at.
One night he sat on that chair, looking out through the crack in the curtains like she did, trying to see what he could see. He saw a full moon.
Sitting in that room, he was the only one there, and he felt vaguely that she was there too, and it seemed that she was not the only one there, but there was someone else there too.
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