Chapter 81

The Rose Knight

By the time they finished cleaning up the mess, it was already nightfall. The stand-up comedians in their work group were still writing jokes—their late-night routine during variety show recordings often meant seeing Shanghai at four in the morning. This tense atmosphere made sleep difficult for Gu Yi as well.

Liang Daiwen stood in the living room, head tilted back. He'd planned to remove the light fixture but hesitated while standing on a stool. "Forget it," he said finally. "I can't bear to take it apart."

Though his senses had failed him, it seemed like there was still a small part of him that remained intact. The cardboard boxes piled in the living room had been contaminated by cola, so Gu Yi could only unpack them and lay out their contents in Liang Daiwen's living space. When she took out a fan, Liang Daiwen unfolded it and remarked, "Where did you get this? It's very unique."

On the fan were inscribed the words: Live life to the fullest; age gracefully with youthful spirit. After pondering for a moment, Gu Yi replied, "It must have been given to me by Xu Guanrui."

Staring at the fan for a long time, Liang Daiwen abruptly snapped it shut and stuffed it into the deepest corner of a drawer. "I don't think I've ever given you anything."

“Of course, I sent a gift. The gifts you and my mom gave me are unforgettable.” 

“What gifts?” 

“You gave me a heart-wrenching farewell and a personality no one else will ever have. Now, besides the resilience and hard-working nature my mom instilled in me, I’ve also learned to be invincible and self-reliant. No man can hurt me anymore.” 

“That actually sounds pretty useful.” 

“Of course. Even my empathy skills have improved.” 

“I’ve changed too. Ever since I met you, I’ve often felt unwell.” 

“Oh?” This was the first time Gu Yi had heard a calm confession from Liang Daiwen, apart from his usual madness—though it sounded a bit odd. 

“An indescribable feeling, hard to control.” 

“Can you describe it?” 

“I can’t. In the past, most of the time, I just didn’t want to talk. Words would linger on the tip of my tongue, take several detours, and never come out. I’d just draw patterns on paper, jotting down fragmented phrases, or simply say nothing. It didn’t matter if people misunderstood me; I didn’t need friends much. But after meeting you, my mind stayed clear, yet my words became repetitive. My sentences were strung together out of habit. I had to work hard to control myself, not to speak. But by the time I realized what those words meant, I’d already said them. The feeling of actions outpacing my mind makes me very uncomfortable—like an animal sensing an earthquake in advance, preemptively fleeing from danger, but exposing its vulnerability to humans first. It’s an awful feeling.” 

Liang Daiwen lay quietly on the bed, the light outlining his profile. “I wish this kind of personality could be shed like clothing.” 

“That actually sounds kind of cute.” 

“Cute how?” 

“If you hadn’t spoken, how would I have known you had feelings for me? Besides, some of your actions are quite memorable. Like when you played a tree at the annual party—I really appreciated that. I had just openly offended the boss on stage that day.” 

“I was leaning against the wall that day, already predicting—my life was about to fall apart.” 

Gu Yi hugged a pillow, looking at him. Liang Daiwen, who had stopped working, seemed to have entered an extended holiday in life, with plenty of time to reflect. She now heard emotions she hadn’t heard before. Conversations without desire, fingers brushing against each other’s skin—once described by a writer as producing the sound of loneliness. She only felt it was a kind of echo between men and women beyond words. 

On a rare weekend, Liang Daiwen woke up early. Gu Yi groggily asked, “Getting up so early—are you going to work overtime?” 

“I’m going bungee jumping.” 

“What?” Gu Yi squinted. “That’s quite thrilling for early morning.” 

“Just to relax.” Liang Daiwen said, “I seem to have an itch in my bones that I can’t suppress, like ants crawling inside. So, I decided to counteract it by free-falling.” 

This foolish behavior was undoubtedly something he’d picked up from her. Gu Yi checked the schedule. “I’m coming too.” 

“Forget it. You’ll be terrified, with your fear of heights.” 

“Don’t worry, Liang Daiwen. I won’t pull any ‘You jump, I jump’ nonsense. My courage was already drained on Tron Lightcycle. If you make me go up again, I’ll break up with you.” Gu Yi grabbed her bag and followed him. “I’m coming to relax.” 

At the amusement park, after paying for the bungee jump, Gu Yi backed off two steps. “I’ll wait for you down here. I’m not going up.” 

“What kind of company is that? Come on up.” 

“Going up costs 280 yuan. Paying just to accompany you? I don’t have the money.” 

The people in line behind them were getting impatient. Liang Daiwen immediately swiped for a second ticket. “She’s going up too.” 

What the hell?! 

On the lift platform, Gu Yi’s legs started shaking like jelly. Facing her worst fear, her teeth chattered. “Liang Daiwen, I finally understand what itch you were talking about—your skin itches! Jumping alone wasn’t enough; you had to drag me into this by paying for me?” 

“Just jump with me up there.” Liang Daiwen looked down. “It’s not that high, only 60 meters.” 

Her blood pressure soared. All the blood seemed to rush to her feet. Gu Yi felt alternately cold and hot. “That’s 20 stories high, dude. Your apartment is only 14 floors!” 

The staff reassured her, “You’ve already paid—300 yuan. You should just jump. You’ve come this far.” 

“Don’t give me that. ‘You’ve come this far’ is just emotional blackmail!” 

The staff secured Liang Daiwen’s safety harness, explaining the precautions. He stood with his back toward the edge, ready to lean back. The platform underfoot was grated, and the view 60 meters below was crystal clear. Standing there felt like floating in mid-air. 

Gu Yi clung to a nearby pole, her limbs stiff, barely daring to glance at Liang Daiwen. She nervously asked, “Hey, is this safe?” 

“Of course it’s safe. We’re using a waist harness—tying the feet is the least safe method. By the way, are you two a couple? If so, would you like to use the couples’ harness and jump together?” 

“I won’t!” Gu Yi yelled, “There’s no way I’m jumping today. Not even if I die. I won’t even sign the consent form. If you push me, it’s murder!” 

“I’ve seen plenty of people like you,” the staff said. “They hesitate and fuss, but after jumping, they feel it’s fine. You’re a couple—why not jump together now that you’re here?” 

Liang Daiwen stood on the edge, gripping the railing, looking calmly and sadly at her. The wind was strong at that height. With half his foot over the edge, he seemed ready to fall backward at any moment. 

A ripple stirred in Gu Yi’s heart. The bittersweet anguish she felt, watching Liang Daiwen, reminded her of an antelope trembling at the edge of a cliff before leaping. Could she really let him face this pain alone? 

“Wait,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Let him down. I’ll jump with him.” 

She had no idea how she managed to say that. But the moment the words left her mouth, she regretted it—trembling as she and Liang Daiwen were strapped together in the couples’ harness. She wasn’t sure if it was the tight belt or sheer terror, but she felt dizzy and even wanted to use the restroom. 

The staff checked their equipment multiple times. “Hold onto each other,” they instructed. “I’m going to count down.” 

“Hey, are you sure this is safe?” 

“Relax. There’s a one in ten thousand chance of danger. We serve 25,000 people annually, and in four years, there hasn’t been a single injury.” 

“...So, by your math, I’m the one it’s waiting for, aren’t I?!”

“Young lady, why say something so inauspicious at a time like this? Your boyfriend is holding you; what’s there to be afraid of? This kind of suspension bridge effect really strengthens relationships.”

“I don’t believe you at all—”

Before she could finish, Liang Daiwen tightened his hold on her and leaned backward. There wasn’t even time to scream. The sudden rush of weightlessness snatched away her breath. All she could feel was the man holding her as they plunged downward. The wind howled past her ears, abandoning her. She had nothing to hold onto but buried herself in Liang Daiwen’s chest, repeating silently, I won’t die. It’s just a moment. At worst, I’ll die with Liang Daiwen.

Why would anyone pay to experience this? It’s pure loss of control, helplessness, baring your weaknesses and surrendering completely to fate.

Wait... Isn’t this exactly how Liang Daiwen lives his daily life?

The force of the rebound was intense, even more overwhelming than the fall itself. The sensation was somewhat like… a climax. As she grew accustomed to swinging in midair, Gu Yi opened her eyes and saw Liang Daiwen looking at her.

—How does it feel?

—Like I almost died.

—I often feel like this: blood rushing backwards, breathing hard, my mind blank, my soul numb.

—So, is that why you brought me here? To make me fall with you?

—Yes. I thought, even if I lose all feeling, I’d want to preserve one memory: being “entwined with you.”

—You’re so selfish, dragging a woman down as your lifeline.

—I’m sorry. But in this extreme moment, I feel more than you do. After all, I’m used to it.

—Then can you feel my heart? It’s racing wildly, maybe it’s already stopped...

—I can. And I can feel us together. But maybe, once we’re pulled back up, I’ll go numb again. Still, I want you to know at this moment: I love you.

Their bodies gradually stabilized as the hook came down. Liang Daiwen secured it to the metal ring, and the two of them were pulled upward steadily. A staff member comforted Gu Yi, “See? There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s all part of life’s experiences. Having your boyfriend by your side, you’re already very lucky. These kinds of beautiful memories are unforgettable.”

Gu Yi held Liang Daiwen’s hand as they walked toward the platform. He pinched her nose. “Why are you making that face?”

She followed him in a daze. When her feet touched solid ground again, she found herself oddly missing that moment of freefall. Was what she had just felt real?

She didn’t dare to touch this bubble of doubt.

By the time the reality show reached the semifinals, Gu Yi went to the recording set to do a report on the performances. The public jury was a mix of media and audience members. After taking her seat, Gu Yi bumped into someone in the hallway. When she looked up, her heart clenched—it was Xu Guanrui.

Wearing a media pass, Xu Guanrui had dyed his hair blond, which made his skin look even paler. He had lost some weight. His expression was awkward. “I swear, I’m just here to watch some stand-up comedy, not to chase after you. On the other hand… you changed jobs?”

“Yeah, I’m working at this company now.”

“Looks like it’s hard not to run into you,” Xu Guanrui said with a smile. “It suits you, though. But if you’d wanted to join, you could’ve come to me anytime—I’ve known your boss for years.”

“Oh?”

“Seriously, we were drinking buddies long before he started writing books.”

Music started warming up the entire venue. The two of them stood there awkwardly, wanting to speak but not knowing where to start.

“How are things with Liang Daiwen?”

“Good.”

“Your face says otherwise.” Xu Guanrui pursued her avoiding eyes. “Not going well?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Little rabbit, you can fool others, but not me.”

Gu Yi stood by the exterior staircase. There were cigarette butts scattered around, and crew members smoking upwind. Everyone was under a lot of pressure during the show’s recording. Xu Guanrui, wearing a denim short-sleeve shirt over a white T-shirt, lifted his hem to block the smoke in a gesture that felt familiar and considerate. The shadows cast by the setting sun seemed to pull her into his embrace. Gu Yi stepped back. “Really, it’s nothing. Let’s go inside.”

“Do you have to run away from talking to me? We used to be such close friends—there’s no need to be so evasive.”

“That’s not it; we’re running out of time.”

“The crew hasn’t gone in yet.” Xu Guanrui chuckled. “Or is it because you’re upset about Liang Daiwen and feel guilty seeing me?”

“What nonsense. Don’t you have your blond-haired girlfriend?”

“I have more than just her.”

They exchanged smiles under the sunset. Xu Guanrui’s playful posture, with his shirt spread open, revealed a mix of mischief and immaturity. His smile carried an inexplicable sadness. He said, “We were comrades once. If there’s a problem with Liang Daiwen, you can confide in me. Our social circles are different now; I won’t tell anyone.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s just... it’s hard for outsiders to understand. He works in barrier-free design, and progress hasn’t been smooth. A disabled senior in a wheelchair recently fell into a parking lot pit and died. His mom used a wheelchair too, so he’s been really down lately.” Gu Yi gazed at the distant clouds, where light pierced through. The sunset was beautiful.

“I’ve read about alexithymia before. They can’t process or express their emotions, but they’re genuine. Liang Daiwen’s genuine nature may have been damaged, sending him back into a passive state. Little rabbit, this issue isn’t about you. If you trust me, find the root of his problem.”

“The root?”

“You told me before that he became alexithymic after his mom passed away, right? This time it’s also triggered by a friend’s death. He’ll have to work through this himself. His hurdle is accepting that the world is inherently flawed. Stop obsessing over trying to warm him up.” Xu Guanrui’s brilliance lay in understanding people too well. “Just like how he once left you to go to the U.S., and now he’s in a slump because of a friend. Maybe you’ll never be as important to him as barrier-free design. Accept that, and you’ll understand. Love isn’t his priority. I wanted to fight for you because of that, but—there’s no need to say more.”

His words were concise, but Gu Yi understood everything. The wind between the buildings was always particularly strong, lifting dust and scattering a few grains of sand, perfectly brushing past her shadow. Gu Yi smiled at Xu Guanrui, her voice strangely clear: “Do you find my habit of chasing stars hard to understand?”