A proud person

"You're really ruthless." The champagne glass in hand swayed slightly, shimmering with the light of victory. Eyes half-narrowed, it was both a mockery of Bai Jingrui and a mockery of oneself.

"It's not ruthlessness, it's foolishness." She wore a half-smile, just like she had under the sunlight by the Greek seaside all those years ago.

A goddess will always have a Zeus above her.

She sat at the other end of the sofa, slipping off her shoes and curling her legs up, pressing her calves down to hide her fair feet. "You never expected an intellectual woman to be this conservative and old-fashioned, did you?"

"I know you just want to get back at your dad. You never thought about falling in love with me."

I got up and opened a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

"But… what will Tiantian think?"

She placed the wine glass on her nose, her gaze hidden in the golden hue of the champagne.

"Actually, us getting married is just for the sake of family harmony; it won't affect our private lives at all," I added, seeing her discomfort.

"Are you talking about that kind of marriage in Director An's films?" She shook her hair, took a sip of wine. "Then we'd need to have a child."

"Not exactly like that," I hesitated.

"Which part isn't exactly like that?" She pressed.

"Indeed, families like ours can't raise a normal child." She laughed.

I downed another glass of wine. The lights before me dimmed, and my words lost their pretense.

"I really love Ye Xi." Tears followed.

"Then why are you marrying me?" Bai Jingrui asked coldly.

"I wanted to prove to my mom that listening to her would only bring me misery."

The empty wine glass slipped from my hand, shattering on the floor.

"You're drunk." Bai Jingrui stood up, reaching out, trying to pick up the shards of glass.

"I always thought you and I had an unspoken understanding." I grabbed her hand, stopping her from getting up.

"What kind of understanding? A pact for a fake marriage?" She laughed out loud.

"You're mocking me." I tightened my grip on her hand.

"Yan Feng, you're truly weak." She broke free from my hand and walked away, saying coldly.

Her shadow flickered like the lights, then faded into nothing but darkness.

I had a dream. In it, Bai Jingrui was wearing a white veil, wading by the sea, with the waves soaking the hem of her skirt. The sky was clear, and the waves grew larger. A huge wave came, and countless white foam covered her. She became completely naked. I walked closer and looked carefully; she had turned into Ye Xi. Ye Xi drifted at the intersection of the beach and the ocean, floating farther away with each wave. I exerted all my strength, diving into the water, but I couldn't catch him.

I woke up in a cold sweat the next day. Bai Jingrui and Ye Xi were both gone.

This was probably a bad decision. But I knew, I believed Ye Xi would understand me. Just like I knew that his relationship with He Tiantian was entirely nonexistent.

As for Bai Jingrui and He Tiantian's relationship, what does that have to do with me and Ye Xi?

I untangled layer after layer of chains in my mind, the logic that put the four of us completely outside the bounds of worldly judgment. At least for me, marriage could be independent of love. Unfortunately, Ye Xi and I never reached a consensus. He remained a romantic, unlike me, whose emotions are more outwardly expressed; he is more emotional. He loved me in an innocent and pure way, while I, in his moments of selfishness, faced many pressures from reality. More importantly, Zhang Hongsheng had once said that, from a private perspective, an artist's love life, whether it's a normal relationship or even approaching marriage, should not be overly exposed. From the company's standpoint, we could only go with the flow.

Fortunately, all these tactics to delay hurting Ye Xi would become irrelevant once I stood on my own.

Three years and four months later, everything came to an end.

On the day my grandmother passed away, cold rain fell in April. Although it was in line with Christian doctrine, all the rituals were held at the traditional Japanese ancestral house. Bai Jingrui flew back from New York to Taipei, and we knelt together before my grandmother's portrait. Bai Jingrui's parents, along with their relatives, were also present. In the past, we were family friends, but now we were in-laws. The rest of my grandfather's old associates were scattered, with only a few people attending. Some acquaintances from the entertainment industry I politely declined to meet. When I married Bai Jingrui, she sat in a wheelchair, holding my and her hand. Though she could barely speak, her smile stretched painfully, but her gaze was clear. My grandmother had spent a lifetime wandering, never once shedding tears. Naturally, she remained silent and tearless at my wedding. Three years after the wedding, she suffered another stroke, falling bedridden with her condition worsening. Bai Jingrui and I occasionally visited her, but she could not form complete sentences, only occasionally saying, "Feng" or "Happiness."

Now, she's gone, and the happiness of my childhood feels farther away. The happiness of this moment, much like Bai Jingrui's flattering smile, is reinforced by the guests who come and go. If happiness is something granted by others' gaze, is it misfortune or happiness? I also want to ask Ye Xi, if his life required fighting for what I have, would he still be as reckless as he is now? I think he would be more cowardly than I am, because he was so easily tempted by me. On that night, when we became adults, he felt no guilt. It's obvious, I am closer to God because I've repented. But this is as I wish it to be. His talent was a divine gift, but his character is not invulnerable. Therefore, I have him, and I will have him for the rest of my life.

Bai Jingrui nudged my arm with her elbow, reminding me that the next guest had arrived. My thoughts wandered, yet I appeared very serious, both in my expressions and words. My soul and emotions were adrift. My childhood self was sad, and at this moment, I secretly rejoiced.

Though it's a secret joy, it carries a deep sense of guilt. I was my grandmother's most beloved grandson, and she was the last thought of my childhood, the most unconditional love. The love between this one and that one is separated by decades, much like the distance between my face and hers at this moment—so close, yet so far. She said hers, I said mine, and in the end, we couldn't connect. I'm sure the joy I'm feeling isn't because of my grandmother's death, but because this love has finally returned to where it was meant to be, in the distant past.

After the funeral, the guests dispersed with the setting sun, and the grand ancestral house returned to its usual emptiness and silence. It had known similar emptiness before, but never as clear as it felt now—like the old piano that my mother threw away, the strings chewed through by rats, dark and worn-out. The eaves of the Japanese-style courtyard were filled with dark clouds, the heavy shadows gathering tears, on the verge of pouring down. Soon, the mist formed by raindrops clouded my vision.

"Hey, your mom just asked if you're going back to the U.S. next month," Bai Jingrui said to me. "I answered for you, no, you're not going."

Now, she has passed away, and the happiness of my childhood feels even further out of reach. The happiness of this moment, much like Bai Jingrui's fawning smile, is reinforced by the guests coming and going. If happiness is something given by the gaze of others, is it misfortune or happiness? I also want to ask Ye Xi, if his life were like mine, needing to fight for what I have, would he still be as reckless as he is now? I think he would be even more cowardly than I am, because he was so easily tempted by me. On the night of our adulthood, he felt no guilt. Clearly, I am closer to God because I've repented. But this is exactly as I wanted it—his talent was divinely perfect, but his character is not invulnerable. Therefore, I have him, and I will have him for the rest of my life.

Bai Jingrui nudged my arm with her elbow, reminding me that the next guest had arrived. My thoughts wandered, yet I was serious in my expression and words, my soul and emotions drifting. My childhood self was filled with sorrow, but in this moment, I secretly rejoiced.

Though it's a secret joy, it carries with it an immense sense of guilt. I was my grandmother's most beloved grandson, and she was the final remnant of my childhood, the most unconditional love. The love between this one and that one is separated by decades, just as the distance between her face and mine in this moment is both so close and so far. She said hers, I said mine, but in the end, we could never truly connect. I'm certain that my joy is not from my grandmother's death, but from the fact that this love has finally returned to the distant past where it belonged.

After the funeral, the guests dispersed with the setting sun, and the grand ancestral house returned to its usual emptiness and silence. It had known similar emptiness before, but never with such clarity, like the old piano that my mother had thrown away, its strings chewed through by rats, dark and worn out. The eaves of the Japanese-style courtyard were filled with dark clouds, the heavy shadows gathering tears, on the verge of spilling over. Soon, the mist formed by raindrops clouded my vision.

"Hey, your mom just asked if you're going back to the U.S. next month," Bai Jingrui said to me. "I answered for you, no, you're not going."

"Mm."

"They've all left, no need to hold onto me like this anymore." She saw that my mind wasn't fully present, perhaps knowing that I wasn't particularly sad. She walked away and removed the white flower from her head.

"You should go talk to Ye Xi and clear things up. Your grandmother is at peace now, and I'm sure the biggest weight in your heart has been lifted. I have a meeting I need to attend in Eastern Europe. If your parents ask...," she smiled, "Well, your parents probably won't bother you anymore, nor will they ask about me."

I was momentarily at a loss for words.

"You don't know how to face Ye Xi now?" She didn't look at me, her gaze fixed on a black stone in the courtyard.

"No," I said, adjusting my collar and patting down the wrinkles in my pants.

"I understand you. Others wouldn't handle your situation any better than you," she smiled at me, the same smile she had in Greece. "You and I are different. I'm an orphan, and I never want to be tied down by anyone. The world's so interesting, why waste too much time on one person, in one place?"

She noticed my somber mood.

"I've said too much. You have someone in your heart, so naturally, you won't agree with the philosophy of being alone and free," she laughed again, with a mix of self-mockery and pride. "But your bond with him... it's truly fascinating."

She hesitated, then murmured to herself, "The external pressures are so great that they've squeezed out all the internal space."

Although I wasn't sure how to face Ye Xi, I still went to Beijing that summer. My grandmother had passed away, and it seemed like my parents didn't care much about my life anymore. My independent company was gradually taking shape, and Bai Jingrui had disappeared. I recalled what she had said about "external pressure" but couldn't bring myself to agree. Without that external pressure, Ye Xi and I would be together without hesitation, with no obstacles in our way.

Although I didn't know his exact location, I still remembered his preferences. Even though three years had passed, I didn't believe he had changed. I had lunch at his favorite restaurant three times, drank kung fu tea at his favorite tea house twice, and had dinner at the Sichuan restaurant we used to frequent twice. On the third evening, I ran into Dai Yanzhi.

He seemed to have aged quite a lot over the years.

I had expected that when he saw me, he would scold me, but it seemed like he didn't recognize me at all, as he walked straight toward the private room. I stood up from my seat in the lobby, walked down the hallway, and took off my hat and mask. As he passed me, he simply lowered his head and quickly sidestepped. His right hand brushed against my left arm, and I grabbed his wrist. He stopped, looked at me, his expression calm, neither angry nor happy. I gazed at him, gently pulling on his wrist. He shook his head, his eyes becoming more alert.

"Where's your assistant and security?" he suddenly asked, a question completely unrelated to the topic.

This was entirely unexpected.

Instead, he grabbed my hand and led me toward the restroom.

"He's at the detention center." Dai Yanzhi closed the door behind him and said softly, then took out his phone and began typing.

My phone buzzed, and it was a message from him: "After dinner, meet at the south gate of Wanliu Academy at 9 PM."

I nodded. He turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Back at the table, it was piled with dishes. Mapo tofu, something Ye Xi always ordered. Fish-flavored shredded pork, which he said he liked the Chongqing version of. Poached fish, which I found too spicy, but Ye Xi could eat several bowls of rice with the sauce. Stir-fried loofah with lard, which I found greasy, but he said it wasn't authentic Sichuan food without it. And cold noodles, my favorite. The taste reminded me of the burned grass jelly I spilled as a child, and the tears flowed uncontrollably. Love and the shackles, many of them had already been released.

I went to meet Ye Xi with great hope. On a dry, cool summer evening, by the black iron gate of the academy, there was only Dai Yanzhi.

"Where's Ye Xi?" I looked around.

"He won't be back today," Dai Yanzhi said.

"Where did he go?" My voice couldn't help but rise, louder than I expected.

"Don't you watch the news?" He looked up slightly, a faint hatred in his eyes, his tone cold. "It's too late. You're late. But even if you're here, so what?"

"What do you mean?" I wanted to grab him, but I couldn't move.

"Let's go inside. The reporters will be here soon." He pulled me toward the courtyard.

"Can you tell me what's going on first?" I tugged on him.

He didn't respond, and he didn't stop walking. I had no choice but to follow him inside.

The furniture inside was neatly arranged, covered in clean white cloth. Even the Steinway in the living room was draped with a huge gray cover. The marble floors reflected the harsh warm light from the massive crystal chandelier, casting an eerie glow on the cold, gray cloth. It was so silent, almost suffocating. The atmosphere was strange. I couldn't help but cry silently, tears falling uncontrollably. All the questions in my heart were drowned by an overwhelming sadness, and I couldn't speak a single word.

"He's still in the detention center. He was set up, accused of soliciting prostitution. Although we've pulled a lot of strings, he has to stay there for three days. He can get out tomorrow."

He's still alive. As long as he's alive, that's all that matters.

I suddenly felt absurd, realizing that the grief over my grandmother's passing had somehow been transferred to something else so easily.

"That's good," I said involuntarily.

"What's 'good'? All the media have reported his crimes, his reputation is completely ruined, all his official titles have been revoked, and he will never be able to perform again." He swallowed his words, "Well, indeed, good. You're already married, and have your career and fame, you must look down on him, a disgraced artist. Ye Xi can finally get rid of the curse you are to him."

"I came to Beijing this time to find him. What exactly happened to him? Who's trying to harm him?"

"Stop bothering him. He's already decided to sell this house and go somewhere else for a while. He'll leave tomorrow."

"Where to?" The fleeting joy of having him back didn't last long, now I was afraid he'd fall into despair and disappear for good. A tear dropped onto the white cloth. This time, I wasn't going anywhere. I would protect him no matter what, "I'll go with him."

"Three years ago, you announced your marriage without saying a word. Now, he's in such a miserable state. You can barely protect yourself, let alone keep him safe. Even if you're willing, do you think Ye Xi can accept that?" Dai Yanzhi suddenly became angry, his face flushed, his voice choked with emotion, "He's such a proud person."