Chapter 24

Your sense of direction in love is worse than a robot vacuum cleaner.

After the focus in the elevator and the hostility in the escape room, Liang Daiwen displayed a third expression—dazed. It was always subtle, so subtle that if you weren’t spending every day with him, you’d never notice. A car drove past the roadside, and the neon lights on the ground jumped up with the splashing water, just like Liang Daiwen’s fluctuating emotions.

Still trying to figure out how to wrap things up, Liang Daiwen swirled the silk scarf around his thumb and said, “Is this what it feels like to have the umbilical cord wrapped around your neck?”

… Why don’t you try stand-up comedy?

Gu Yi stood on stage, recalling this moment, and couldn’t help but toss the microphone directly to Liang Daiwen in the audience. She had originally thought that moving out might hurt his feelings, after all, they had spent so much time together. But every time Liang Daiwen spoke, it only made her feel like he was made of stone. Now, when she saw him at ounce, she could treat him like a decoration—laughing like a lucky cat, an unshakable mascot, a hidden master of subtle attacks and insults. Originally, there was no performance for Gu Yi today; she was suddenly pulled in to help. It was just as well, since she also had something to say. In the three days of work, she had already heard rumors about herself, which she overheard in the smoking area outside the office, where male colleagues were chatting. Among their laughter, Gu Yi was branded as a woman looking for a man. One of her colleagues, finishing his cigarette, laughed and said, “God, what a so-called ‘independent woman.’”

“Hello everyone, I’m Gu Yi. How was your New Year? Looks like everyone’s doing well, judging by this big brother in front who’s looking a little plump. Been pressured to get married? Ah, I can tell by your frown that things aren’t going too well. Take a good look around today, there are a lot of girls at ounce, and they match very precisely—funny, love to freeload, hope you can find the right person.”

“I haven’t been to ounce recently. I’ve been busy riding roller coasters and going through escape rooms. I’m afraid of heights and terrified of the dark, so my life can be summed up in four words—pitch black. I wanted to share with you all my ‘suicide mission’ experience, but I’ve heard some news recently, too shocking not to share—guess what, I heard I’ve been kept as a mistress.”

“This started from a joke I made about living together being like a funeral. At that time, I didn’t mention it to my roommate, so my colleagues speculated, with furrowed brows and words unsaid, that I must be kept by someone. I was really puzzled. When your mom looks at you with a frown, is it because someone outside found you a new dad?”

“People really love gossip. The spread of gossip is faster than that of contagious diseases. My college roommate had an appendectomy, was absent for a week, and some of the boys in our class immediately started gossiping about her. An appendix surgery, a minor operation, didn’t have any spreading value. The appendix, an organ that’s kind of useless in the body, is not important. But when it’s about a kid, it’s full of gossip—who with, where, are they married? Unmarried? Too bad. Men gossip so fast, things that women may only find out in person, men already have in their WeChat group forwards. Don’t believe me? I’ll say three words—Uniqlo.”

“Back to being kept. I was the last to know that I was being kept. The reason is that I stayed at a male friend’s house because I was too poor to pay rent, so I must be a kept woman. But I think it’s all just rumors. Why not reasonably deduce from the existing conditions? A single man living in the city, good-looking, has a great job, and his life is so stable and affluent—if he’s keeping a stand-up comedian, then I must be beautiful, hot, and have had my voice poisoned. It’s like the plot of a TV drama where the hardworking and pitiful female protagonist will always attract the attention of a wealthy heir or elite CEO. But this kind of story, let me tell you, doesn’t exist in real life. If you wrap yourself up like a gift, tie a bow around your neck, the CEO would just say, ‘Are you imitating the umbilical cord wrapped around the neck?’”

There was a burst of laughter from the audience. But at that moment, Gu Yi felt a bit sad. The saddest thing about being a stand-up comedian is that the misfortunes you joke about to make the audience laugh aren’t made up—they’re real. Well, never mind, let’s continue.

“But when I say this, I feel a little itchy. Words like ‘living together every day’ still give people some romantic ideas about intimate relationships. You see, marriage isn’t much different, right? My roommate and I are in a situation that fits perfectly for a married couple: one sleeps on the bed, one sleeps on the couch, we barely talk when we’re at home, and communication happens only through group activities, no sex life.”

“Of course, this is just a hypothesis. But recently, I actually experienced marriage in an escape room. Everyone has seen this in movies and TV shows: the man and woman stand facing each other in a white church, the priest performs a vow ceremony, the couple exchanges rings. ‘Do you take this man to be your husband, to love and honor him in sickness and in health, and in all circumstances, to respect him, care for him, and remain faithful to him until death do you part?’ At that time, I was in a completely dark escape room, a beam of light, a bunch of white flowers, and there was no wedding that could fit the scene, but then a thought popped into my head, and suddenly the blackness of the scene made sense: ‘Do you take this man to be your husband, to love and honor him no matter if he’s from out of town, if he has a down payment, if he can even get a license plate, to respect him, accept him? To stay loyal to him until death do you part, even if he forces you to have a painless natural birth, raises the kids as a widowed parent, insults you when you have no income, and even forgives him when he visits prostitutes, believing that he is your true love for the rest of your life? Oh, and he might also have a big mouth...’”

After she finished, there was another burst of laughter from the audience. Liang Daiwen was sitting far off, and Gu Yi felt a bit proud—after all, if Liang Daiwen could hold it in, let him hold it in. Yu Dule was sitting on the backstage couch, saying, “Gu Yi, what’s going on with you? Why are you so sharp lately? Did someone pressure you?”

“It’s just a joke, don’t take it seriously.”

“You feel like someone’s backing you up, and now you’re doing whatever you want. Let me guess, are you dating Liang Daiwen?”

“Of course not.”

“But your state is clearly much better lately, you’re so confident, even the ‘unlucky girl’ image is changing.”

“Changing to what?”

“An independent woman spoiled by a handsome guy. Congratulations, you’ve turned into the person you hate the most.”

“......”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the sound of a glass bottle shattering suddenly came from outside. Gu Yi and Yu Dule rushed out from backstage—it seemed someone had drunk too much. The crowd quickly scattered, and a man was grabbing a woman by the hair. “You’re always watching this stuff, been married for so many years, don’t make money, won’t have kids, and now you’re letting these people brainwash you...”

“Let go of me…”

“Let go of what? I’m pissed after hearing this. Not only am I going to beat you, but I’m also going to beat that person who was on stage just now…”

The man kicked the woman in the stomach, picked up a nearby bottle, and was about to smash it. Yu Dule told Gu Yi to step back and ran toward them. “Sir, don’t fight, this is serious, we’ll have to call the police if you keep going…”

“What does it matter to you if I hit my wife? Get out of the way! You guys have a problem with stand-up comedy, all those so-called ‘feminists’ should be jailed. After I finish beating my wife, I’ll go beat her.”

“She” refers to Gu Yi. Many people stepped forward to intervene, and Gu Yi never imagined she would witness domestic violence firsthand in a downtown bar, just because the woman didn’t want to have children and was listening to a slightly offensive stand-up comedy. The man was drunker than she had imagined, his strength surprisingly immense. He kicked over the round table and grabbed an empty beer bottle to swing it down. The sound was crisp, and standing in front of the woman was... Liang Daiwen’s arm.

Blood flowed down his arm into his sleeve as Liang Daiwen forcefully shoved the man back. The veins on his neck stood out: “This isn’t the place for you to fight.”

The man pushed Liang Daiwen back, but several audience members quickly held him back. Gu Yi ran to Liang Daiwen’s side. Liang Daiwen lowered his head, calmly squeezing the shards of glass out of his palm. Gu Yi said, “There’s hydrogen peroxide and iodine in the backstage…”

“No need.”

“I can help clean it up. I have tweezers…”

“If you want to help, stay away from me.”

Gu Yi froze in place. Liang Daiwen’s hand was bleeding from both the wound on the back of his hand and the glass embedded in his palm. The bartender rushed over with a first aid kit, pressing gauze to stop the bleeding before cleaning it up. Gu Yi quietly watched, as if she were isolated in a cocoon that belonged to Liang Daiwen, unable to get close. Liang Daiwen carefully used tweezers to remove the glass shards, applied iodine, and wrapped his hand in layer after layer of gauze. The cuffs of his shirt were stained red. He straightened his fingers, clenched his fist, and took a deep breath, pressing his lips tightly together. The bartender asked, “Do you want to go to the hospital?” Liang Daiwen quietly replied, “No need, it’s just a small injury.”

Gu Yi turned back to comfort the wife, who was still crying on the couch. The wife mumbled, “Don’t call the police, please, don’t call the police.” Gu Yi sat on the ground, beer soaking her pants. She ran her hand down the wife’s back, feeling a brief dizziness. Liang Daiwen only shared happiness with her. Looking back at her time living at his place, she realized she had never seen him in pain. Her mind was filled with static, like an old television, the screen showing a football match from her adolescence. She was in the stands cheering, unseen by the senior, and all of it made her feel excited, bittersweet, and slightly sorrowful, but still eagerly anticipating a possible eye contact. Just thinking about it filled her with energy. Pedaling her bike hard in the sunset, the wind in her ears seemed like the passion she couldn’t extinguish.

She didn’t know why she thought of this. She just sat there, saying “sorry” to the wife, who was still crying.

Fifteen minutes later, the wife was driven away by a friend. Gu Yi didn’t want to go upstairs. She stood at the convenience store downstairs, bought an ice cream, and ate the cone by the roadside, holding back her tears. A voice suddenly came from beside her: “Excuse me, is there a comedy bar nearby?”

Gu Yi pointed upward. The man in front of her was wearing a white shirt and jeans, with slightly puffed cheeks. He looked to be around the same age, with brown bangs covering half his forehead, almond-shaped eyes, full lips, and a clear lip line. He looked friendly even when he wasn’t smiling, a bit childish. He looked at Gu Yi for a moment, then asked, “If you’re drawing for a ticket, do you have to draw many times before you get it?”

“No, you can often get it if you’re lucky,” Gu Yi replied, her eyes red from holding back tears.

The man suddenly bent down to look at her: “Are you feeling a bit down?”

“It’s nothing.”

“But I can’t say goodbye to a girl with red eyes. I won’t be able to sleep,” he said, patting his crossbody bag. “Come with me.”

He went into the convenience store to borrow a lighter, crouching down sneakily. “Follow me.”

Gu Yi hesitated for a moment.

“Don’t worry, it’s definitely safe here, there are people around. I just want to make you smile, no other intentions.”

Gu Yi followed him into a small alley in the residential area. The area near Xiangyang North Road was filled with low buildings, and the narrow walls between the two buildings were dark with no streetlights. She felt a bit nervous. The man pulled out something golden from his bag, which she couldn’t make out, then lit it with the lighter, and the flickering flames revealed a firework.

He handed the firework stick to Gu Yi. “This is leftover birthday candles from my birthday a while ago. But if you’re caught setting off fireworks inside the inner ring, you might get fined. Keep it secret.”

Gu Yi didn’t know what to say, and the man put a finger to his lips and covered his eyes with the firelight. “If you want to cry, just cry. It’s just the two of us here. I’ll cover my eyes, I won’t look.”

After the firework burned out, he tossed it into his bag and pulled Gu Yi away, running. “Nothing happened, right?”

Back on the street, the afterimage of the firework still lingered in her eyes. The man naturally held her wrist, and when they reached the streetlight, he let go. He cheerfully said, “Maybe asking for your contact number is a bit rude. Will I see you again?”

“Yes, I perform stand-up at Ounce.”

“Wow... I’ll apply for it when I get home tonight. I hope next time I see you, you’ll be as happy as now.” The man tapped her nose lightly, without asking for her contact information. “I’ve done my magic. I’m Xu Guanrui.”

When Gu Yi talked to Guan Xingxin about this, she had quickly rented a small apartment near Bridge No. 8, just a wall away from the company’s campus. She marveled at how strong anger could be, enough to make someone go bankrupt just to maintain dignity. She still had 2,000 yuan left, but it was fine, the salary would be paid at the end of the month. Thanks to Liang Daiwen, she had saved enough for the deposit and rent while staying with him. After packing up six boxes and sorting out two suitcases, she ran to Guan Xingxin’s place for drinks because she didn’t want to run into Liang Daiwen when her boxes were still packed in the living room.

Just thinking of Liang Daiwen’s “stay away from me” made her fume. Guan Xingxin took out a bottle of Grand Marnier and mixed it with Sprite, handing it to Gu Yi. “He’s just worried about you.”

“The bottle hit him; what danger could I be in?”

“He’s the type of person who would let his own blood spill but wouldn’t let a friend’s hair get hurt.” Guan Xingxin blinked rapidly, “Didn’t you really call the police?”

“No. Marriage issues can’t be solved by just calling the police. We’ve had arguments before and called the police, but in the end, Ounce was shut down for a week. Yu Dule didn’t want to escalate things, and the police mostly just mediated. Ounce’s business has always been worse than surrounding bars, and there are plenty of gay bars nearby. If the police came and caused trouble, it would ruin the mood for everyone.”

It was a lot to take in, but Guan Xingxin understood it all—she wasn’t surprised at all. She stretched lazily. “So, in my eyes, Liang Daiwen is really no handsome guy. If we round it up, he’s emotionally stunted and hard to get along with. I just have to say, your taste is really off.”

“A person who’s tried to kill himself for love is saying that about me.”

Guan Xingxin wasn’t angry at all, just pinched Gu Yi’s cheek. Gu Yi really wanted to pour out her troubles to Guan Xingxin. Liang Daiwen wasn’t so unromantic—things like putting stars under the bed were things immature boys would do. But he was more frustrating than expected, instinctively pushing away people who were close, as if privacy was a trump card he would never reveal.

The urge to confide was distracting, but it would affect their friendship. She didn’t want to say anything. Guan Xingxin leaned on her shoulder, the warmth of her shoulder pressing against her, and didn’t say anything more. Their mutual attraction to each other’s old friends brought them closer, like two pieces of a puzzle.

The phone rang. It was Yu Dule. Gu Yi purposely answered with her left ear while Guan Xingxin leaned on her shoulder, hearing everything clearly. The voice with the retro accent sounded crisp: “Are you still working on shifts recently, at Ounce?”

“Not for now, I can’t think of anything to talk about.”

“Don’t take it to heart. Ounce has a lot of people, and Liang Daiwen’s injured. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back along with Uncle Lu.”

“It’s just that I don’t have any inspiration, my mind’s a mess.”

“There’s a stand-up comedy group over by Hengshan Road, they asked me to get you to perform. I think they might be there, saw you perform and want to invite you. Do you want to give it a try?”

“I won’t go for now.” Gu Yi seemed to drift, like she was hanging on a damp clothesline. “I can’t ‘cheat.’”

“What?”

“It’s nothing, I’ll hang up.”

After hanging up, Guan Xingxin was still laughing, like she was drunk. Gu Yi followed her gaze and saw the small blue flower on the dining table. “You seem to really like cornflowers, I always see them.”

“No, Yu Dule gave them to me.” Guan Xingxin laughed, “He stayed over at my place last night.”

Back at Van Gogh Gallery, when Gu Yi went upstairs, Liang Daiwen was sitting on the sofa, his arm wrapped in bandages, looking somewhat pitiful. When he saw Gu Yi, he stood up. “I bought a cake.”

Gu Yi felt a pang in her heart. Liang Daiwen, when he showed weakness and begged for mercy, liked to buy cake. He fiddled around in the kitchen for a while before remembering the cake box, which had a plate and fork stuck to it. The six-inch matcha cake looked like it wouldn’t be finished. Liang Daiwen said they could eat what was left tomorrow.

“The moving company will be here in about fifteen minutes.” Gu Yi didn’t know if Liang Daiwen understood, but that was her push-pull.

The living room fell silent. Liang Daiwen awkwardly tried to cut the cake with his bandaged hand, and Gu Yi took the knife from him, cutting it piece by piece. These two months passed like this. Liang Daiwen said the store was hard to find, but thankfully he wasn’t directionally challenged.

Gu Yi thought to herself, “Yes, yes, yes, even though I’m not directionally challenged, my sense of direction in love is worse than a vacuum cleaner’s.”

“The stars under the bed, if you want to see them, I can stick them up for you again,” Liang Daiwen’s attempt at being considerate was so subtle that it was nearly imperceptible. Gu Yi just waved her hand, saying, “It’s fine, we don’t live together anymore.” “When I move out, don’t you feel anything?”

“You were always going to move out. It’s just temporary, what can I feel?”

Gu Yi almost wished the moving company would arrive in an instant.

The move was incredibly fast. After all, it was only six boxes, and there was nothing left behind in the house. The memories quickly faded, which was discouraging. Liang Daiwen moved boxes in and out, his bandaged hand showing some fresh red marks. Gu Yi looked at him, feeling upset. Liang Daiwen glanced at her and silently stopped speaking.

She finally understood the metaphor that had been hanging in the air. She had been like a piece of clothing, blown into the air by life, caught by Liang Daiwen and left on his window, wet and swaying in the wind; now she was returning to her life again. But was she really content with just dipping into Liang Daiwen’s life? Even if it was uncertain, she wanted to pull him into the same string, to feel that rise and fall herself.

After the move, the new home was empty. Liang Daiwen said, “If there’s nothing else, then I’ll leave.”

She looked into his eyes. Since she could understand him, with such strong comprehension, let’s see what’s written in my eyes. She stared at him for a long time, and Liang Daiwen, feeling uncomfortable from being looked at, asked, “Is there something on my face?”

She gently took his injured hand. She clearly remembered the position of the wound, the deep cuts in the palm, and a scar running across the back of his hand—she squeezed it hard.

Liang Daiwen frowned. “What are you trying to do?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Of course.”

“Remember this feeling.”

“Why?”

Gu Yi withdrew her hand and closed the door. “Give me back what you gave me, untouched.”