The shackles of the outside world
After getting drunk at the annual party, Lin Xiaoning asked Sister Wang to take a week off. After leaving the hospital, he turned off his mobile phone and blocked all external information.
She tried to imagine every possibility, reason out every logic, and list all the evidence...
Call the police, take a statement, go to trial, confront each other—what if there's no evidence of coercion? Will winning bring with it a scandal that ruins one's reputation? If losing, how can one find relief other than reality or suicide?
How can I convince myself to settle privately or pay compensation? How can I face Ye Yidong? How can I face the sunrise every day?
My brain keeps thinking, but it always gets interrupted... I can never fully deduce every possibility, and I even can't think at every step of reasoning. Rational reasoning is simply impossible... Maybe I can only follow my feelings.
Lin Xiaoning came to the Public Security Bureau alone.
The light in the Public Security Bureau's reception room was a cold, pale white, revealing nothing. Lin Xiaoning sat alone on a hard plastic chair, feeling like a specimen under a microscope. The air was filled with a mixture of coldness and the smell of stale paper.
The person in charge of reception was a frowning police officer named Li, and a young female police officer was in charge of taking notes.
Officer Li's questions were precise and calm: "Ms. Lin, are you sure you were fully conscious at the time? Please describe in detail every detail from the cocktail party to entering the room, and every detail that happened in the room." His questions peeled off layer by layer like a scalpel, and every detail pointed to the weak points in the evidence.
“Hotel surveillance…”
"Ms. Lin, we've carefully reviewed all the surveillance footage we can retrieve." Officer Li's tone was steady, emotionless. "The footage shows that you were indeed quite drunk. You were unsteady on your feet when you came out, and it was Zhang Jun who supported you. The footage in the elevator... is relatively clear."
He paused, looking at her calmly. "The video shows that as the elevator was going up, you took the initiative to turn your head and kiss Mr. Zhang on the cheek. How do you explain this behavior?"
Lin Xiaoning's breath suddenly caught. Fragments of memory surged wildly, trying to capture that moment—the blurry lights, the dizziness, the alcohol-burning warmth, a sense of near-self-destructive abandonment... Maybe there was? Maybe not? The memory was like a shattered mirror, fragmented and blurred. But weren't these all intimate gestures that could only be made towards Ye Yidong? Could drinking really cloud memory? Could lack of sleep cause a temporary loss of sanity?
"I...I don't remember much." Her voice was dry and her fingertips were cold. "I was drunk at the time..."
"According to the elevator surveillance footage, it was very close to the time you claim the assault occurred," Officer Li continued, his voice free of accusation, simply stating the facts. "The other party will likely use this detail to prove there was an intimate interaction between the two of you, that you weren't completely passive or resisting, and that you might even have been proactive."
"That test report..."
"The secretions only prove that you did have sex. The most important thing now is the evidence. Are there any scars? Or any coercion, duress, or…"
Just then, the office door opened and another police officer poked his head in. "Brother Li, in the Donghuayuan case, the woman gave her second statement and changed the details again, insisting there was something in the stairwell... Alas, the surveillance footage clearly didn't show it."
Officer Li waved his hand expressionlessly. "Got it. Follow the procedure and have her confirm every statement." He turned back to look at Lin Xiaoning, a subtle complexity in his eyes. "Ms. Lin, every link in the chain of evidence is crucial, especially the details that can affect her subjective judgment. You must be absolutely certain."
The coldness of reality was more devastating than any doubt. It drained away all emotion, leaving only the naked, cruel rules of the game. Leaving the Public Security Bureau, the afternoon sun blazed fiercely, yet Lin Xiaoning felt a chill run down his spine.
She was half-dazed, not knowing how long it had been since she had eaten. She felt a bit hungry. She wandered into a corner snack bar. It was afternoon, not lunchtime, and the only person inside was a proprietress, about forty-five or forty-six years old, wearing a faded floral apron. She was cracking sunflower seeds and chatting at the door.
"Hey, Madam Boss, are you so free today?"
"What the hell!" The proprietress spoke in a loud voice, her saliva almost splashing towards Lin Xiaoning, "I just sent away that damn old pervert! He wanted to deny his debt just by touching my ass? I picked up a rolling pin and scolded his ancestors until they jumped out of their graves! And he still paid the money obediently? Humph, this kind of stuff deserves to be punished!" She put her hands on her hips, like a hen with high morale, vulgar but full of vitality.
"Tsk, Old Man Zhang, were you dancing in the square again yesterday to flirt with that new bitch? You got a beating for not keeping your hands to yourself, didn't you?" The proprietress spoke in a loud voice, with a street-smart and blunt tone.
The old man laughed awkwardly: "Nonsense! I was just teaching her a dance step..."
"Bah! Where do you put your hands when teaching dance steps? Do you think I'm blind?" The proprietress spitted. "You old guys, you all have evil minds! But then again, that woman is no pushover either. Look at the yoga pants she's wearing, they wrap her body perfectly, and she's twisting her body more happily than anyone else. She's so slutty that you can smell the stench of urine from miles away. Isn't she just trying to attract attention? If something goes wrong, it's hard to say who seduced who!"
She saw Lin Xiaoning come in dejectedly and ordered a bowl of noodles but barely touched it. She glanced at her twice and actually took the initiative to talk to her: "Miss, what's wrong? Did you have a fight with your boyfriend? Look at your face."
Lin Xiaoning shook his head subconsciously, his fingers unconsciously picking at the burrs on the disposable chopsticks.
Perhaps stories like this are common around the criminal police unit. The proprietress, with an air of experienced wisdom and an "I get it" attitude, scoffed and lowered her voice, but her gruff energy remained undiminished: "So some bastard took advantage of you? Ugh! I'm telling you, it's nothing! A man's thing is just a shiver, it's gone in a blink of an eye! The key is that you have to think it through and get what you want! What's the point of crying and whining? Can it be eaten or spent as money?"
She slammed her greasy hands on the counter. "Look at Juanzi, the girl who runs the small supermarket at the corner of our street. A few years ago, a wholesaler blocked her warehouse. Did she make a scene? No! She turned around and extorted two years' worth of the wholesale price, and even took a lot of benefits from him for free! Now her business is booming! That's what you call talent! Innocence? What's innocence worth? Living a good life is the real thing!"
Her words, like a rusty, blunt knife, brutally cut open Lin Xiaoning's carefully bandaged wound. Blood gushed out, yet there was a strange, stinging "clarity." In this urban woman's worldview, bodily boundaries were blurred, chastity a useless shackle, and shame a bargaining chip that could be traded for material gain. This crude and piercing outlook, contrary to her years of education and moral standards, strangely emerged in her despair as a kind of existential "wisdom"—a "wisdom" that abandoned spiritual struggle and fully embraced the instincts of reality.
Why do the innocence and dignity that were so crucial to youth become so insignificant in the eyes of some people after experiencing the hardships of life? Has life smoothed out the edges, or have different philosophies of life shaped different ways of coping? Lin Xiaoning felt a sharp sense of rift.
She dazedly opened her phone to scan the QR code to pay. It vibrated. It was a text message from an unfamiliar number. The voice was surprisingly calm: "Ms. Lin, this is Zhang Jun. I hope we can have a face-to-face conversation to express my apologies. You decide the time and place."
For some unknown reason, she replied with the name of a nearby park.
Zhang Jun arrived quickly, dressed casually. He lacked the aggressiveness and unsettled gaze of the annual meeting, looking rather tired. Officer Li must have been looking for him, too. He sat at the other end of the bench, maintaining a comfortable distance.
"Ms. Lin," he began, his voice a little hoarse, "First of all, I solemnly apologize to you for any inappropriate behavior and offense I may have caused that night. I was drunk and my behavior may have been out of proportion. I had no intention of forcing or hurting you." He chose his words carefully, even with a hint of a slightly rigid gentlemanly demeanor.
"What happened that night was a mistake, and I deeply regret it," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "I understand your anger and... disappointment. Whatever decision you make, legal or otherwise, I will respect it. I will take responsibility for any mistakes and assume all liability. But I hope you suffer as little harm as possible, and I also want you to know that I personally admire and cherish your talents and abilities."
He offered no compensation, no threats, no inducements, but instead subtly woven together "apology," "respect," and "appreciation." This gesture, far more disorienting than direct inducement or coercion, obscured the identity of the aggressor and even created a preposterous illusion of "being understood."
As he left, he looked out at the lake in the distance and suddenly whispered, "Sometimes, we are pushed by circumstances to do things...that we can't fully understand afterward. We are all helpless."
Those words were like a fine needle, gently piercing something. She watched him leave, and for the first time, she saw a hint of fatigue and... hypocrisy? Or perhaps some genuine confusion? She couldn't tell.
Lin Xiaoning didn't know how he got on the high-speed train and bus to the city where he used to study and the familiar campus.
In the evening, she hesitated for a long time, but ultimately lacked the courage to go up. She turned around and walked aimlessly along the familiar path, only to run into Zhao Xianqi, who was about to go home with his briefcase under the old locust tree.
"Haven't you eaten yet? Let's eat together." His tone was unyielding, as if they hadn't seen each other for three years, but had been studying together yesterday.
In the corner of the school cafeteria, there was a clamor of chatter. Zhao Xianqi bought her a bowl of hot noodle soup. The warm air temporarily dispelled the chill.
She didn't need to say much; he seemed to understand. "Are you having trouble?" he asked softly, his voice calm and reassuring, like the feeling of seeing your father when you were wronged as a child.
She choked up and told what happened in a halting manner, talking about the surveillance, the powerlessness of the police, Zhang Jun's "apology", and the words of the boss's wife.
Zhao Xianqi listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of the book. After a long pause, he spoke slowly, his voice deep and penetrating with profound insight: "Law...is a tool for maintaining order and justice, but it is not omnipotent, nor is it always absolutely impartial. It exists in the complex world of human beings, constrained by evidence, procedure, power, and even...luck."
"My case..." He paused, his eyes looking off into the distance, as if traveling through time. "Back then, many people asked me why I didn't fight to the end. Because fighting comes at a price, and sometimes that price isn't just borne by you, but by the people you most want to protect. True courage sometimes lies in seeing all the possible costs, still making a choice, and bearing all the consequences."
"You mean...compromise?" Lin Xiaoning's voice trembled.
"No." Zhao Xianqi's eyes were sharp and clear. "It's about 'choice.' Choose a path you can bear and believe is worth it. Fighting or retreating, there is no absolute right or wrong, but you must be aware of the costs. Fighting may win justice, but you may also lose your life; retreating may preserve something, but you may also bear a lifetime of resentment. There is no perfect answer."
His words stripped away the cloak of idealism, revealing the hard and mottled core of reality.
Leaving the cafeteria, they sat in silence on the benches in the living area. As the night deepened, the small woods along the road became hazy. Suddenly, a rapid rustling and a short whimpering sound came from deep in the grass.
Instinctively, they glanced over. In the dim glow of the streetlights along the path, they could vaguely discern two stray dogs engaging in sexual intercourse. Their movements were direct, brutal, and filled with animalistic instincts, unconcealed and unashamed. They were absorbed in their physical urges, oblivious to their surroundings. After their intercourse, they indifferently separated, each burrowing into the underbrush and disappearing.
The air froze for a moment. Lin Xiaoning felt an inexplicable sense of embarrassment and palpitations.
Zhao Xianqi suddenly spoke, his voice as calm as if discussing a philosophical proposition: "See? For them, this is just a reproductive instinct, as natural as seeking food when hungry or drinking water when thirsty. There's no moral judgment, no burden of shame. Humans have given 'sex' too many complex meanings—love, power, conquest, shame, commodity... Sometimes, we lose sight of its original meaning."
He turned his head, his gaze penetrating in the night. "I'm not saying we should regress to our animal nature. Rather... perhaps we can try to peel off the burdens imposed by the outside world and see our true inner feelings and needs. The anger of being violated is real, the doubt about our own worth is real, and the fear of the future is real. But how much of 'shame' comes from within us, and how much is a shackle imposed by the outside world?"
He paused, his voice even softer, but it struck Lin Xiaoning's heart like a hammer: "How can we live a better life? Sometimes, the answer doesn't lie in fighting all the shackles, but in recognizing which shackles are imposed by others and which are self-imposed. Then, selectively letting go of some, perhaps you can walk a little easier."
At that moment, under the dim street lights, listening to the early spring breeze shaking off the dry leaves, and looking at the calm and wise man in front of her, the icy fortress of shame, innocence, and value in Lin Xiaoning's heart seemed to be hit by some warm and powerful force, and a tiny crack appeared.
As she left, the night breeze was chilly, but she felt as if a corner of the huge stone in her chest had been lifted. Although the road ahead was still unclear, in that moment, she seemed to have gained a new perspective on everything that had happened, and on herself.
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