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Fall in Love While You Can.
Fall in Love While You Can.
Guan Xingxin searched for a long time before finding a reasonably priced studio to rent a wedding dress. Because of the low budget, it didn’t have a train that could reveal the length of the high heels, and the strapless lace design outlined her body’s curves. The waistline was very high, and the skirt was decorated with white roses, requiring a petticoat. The store owner said, “You came at the right time. This wedding dress just arrived, and I’ve been hiding it, waiting to rent it to the right girl, but I’ve never met the one until now. This is its first outing.”
“I’ll get it dirty.”
“How could that be?” The store owner smiled. “The value of a wedding dress begins the moment it’s worn. Women in wedding dresses are the most sacred of goddesses. It has nothing to do with the partner.”
Guan Xingxin looked at the mirror, her eyes lighting up at these words. When asked about the wedding date and the rental duration, she answered, “I’m just renting it for one day to take photos… there won’t be a wedding.”
There was a slight sense of guilt when she said it, but she couldn’t explain why, though she stubbornly tried to swallow the thought. The store owner didn’t speak, only handing her a bouquet of white fake flowers with hard plastic stems but a pleasant scent. “You’re not the first to rent a wedding dress for photos, don’t feel awkward.”
Carrying the wedding dress home, Guan Xingxin couldn’t hide her excitement. For the first time since adulthood, she was doing something for herself, a moment worth remembering. The last time she felt like this was at fourteen when her mother only bought her small lingerie. She secretly went far from home to the trading market and bought a bra with a steel underwire. The shop assistant measured her cup size, gently holding her chest, even more tenderly than her mother. None of her four parents thought to buy her the supporting underwear she needed during puberty—only the milk deliveries. She hid the underwear at the bottom layer of her bedside drawer, and that night, she secretly turned on the lamp and tried it several times. The white underwear looked like two soft petals and had the scent of cheap fabric, but she thought it was beautiful, as if having it made her a real woman.
Memories from her youth surfaced, and the light filtering through the phoenix tree leaves fell on her face, reflecting on the car window like a black lace veil. Her own life, there was nothing difficult about it; she could do it.
On her thirtieth birthday, Guan Xingxin wore the wedding dress out and took a taxi to an antique shop. Only when she got out of the car did she realize how difficult it was to go out alone—holding the tripod with her fingertips, her remaining three fingers clutching her bag, swaying and nearly losing balance. The bouquet felt like a burden, and lifting the skirt to avoid getting it dirty was hard because it was so wide she could barely fit through the door. She stood outside and took a selfie with the “Fontaine Antique Shop” sign, thankful that her makeup hadn’t smudged. The wind was a little cold, so she hurried to go inside.
As expected, the wedding dress got stuck at the door. The shop owner, an old man, looked at her dressed up and felt both moved and embarrassed. “Little girl, you’re dressed so beautifully to come here; you really give me face, but my place is a bit small. Be careful when walking; my antiques are fragile, they can be expensive.”
Guan Xingxin endured the embarrassment, encouraging herself inwardly: “Uncle, I’m just taking a few photos as a memento. I’m thirty years old.”
“Then why wear a wedding dress? Haven’t you found someone to marry?”
“I’m marrying myself,” Guan Xingxin said, whether he understood or not. “I won’t disturb your business. Don’t worry, I’ll leave as soon as I’m done.”
“I’m not that petty,” the old man said, waving his hand. “There aren’t many people in the morning and noon. Go ahead, take your photos.”
She quickly removed the petticoat when the old man wasn’t looking, and the skirt immediately deflated. Sitting on a green leather antique chair, the camera on the tripod counted down from three seconds. The flash went off as she playfully sat in the frame with a phone to her ear. In front of a copper mirror, she stood, half-blocking the lens, looking at it with a deep gaze as if staring into the eyes of a lover. Her delicate fingers gently touched a wooden puppet with frayed clothing, tears appearing in her eyes as she seemed to reminisce about her past self. As she kept taking photos, she became hooked. The bride was the main character in the album, and although the angles weren’t perfect, each page turned, and the story was written by her.
After a short break to touch up her makeup, she squatted down to drink some water, then froze—on the wooden table, a princess in royal attire was encased in glass, curiously watching her.
In a life under scrutiny, it’s better to stand tall than to shrink away.
Suddenly, someone outside shouted, “Is Guan Xin there? Is there a Guan Xingxin? Take the flowers!”
Guan Xingxin peeked out. “Are you calling me?”
“Guan Xingxin!” The delivery man sounded impatient, as if he had been sent from somewhere nearby.
The bouquet was handed to her, and her heart skipped a beat. The pale blue cornflowers still had dew on them. There were no flower shops around that sold cornflowers, and they weren’t the most prominent flower, nor did they have much to do with love—”I hope to see the person I want to see every day and live forever in the light.”
She grabbed the flowers and rushed outside, calling, “Yu Dule, come out!”
The rocking horse and red cart were empty, the metal chairs with floral designs and headless clowns didn’t understand what she was saying. But Guan Xingxin, trembling as she clutched the bouquet, called out Yu Dule’s name again—he had once said here that he wanted to open a shop selling odd items, antiques, stories, childhood memories… only open in the afternoon and late at night. If someone wanted something but couldn’t afford it, they could exchange a wish.
At this moment, she had no wish and wouldn’t allow any tears to fall. She just shouted, “Yu Dule, come out! I know it’s you, there’s no one else who would send me cornflowers…”
There was nothing. Passersby from the nearby restaurant watched the beautiful woman in a wedding dress but didn’t know what was happening. In the narrow alley, the antique shop and restaurant faced each other, surrounded by young people. Someone recognized her as the beauty from the variety show who had flirted with many men but never chose anyone. What was she doing here?
It felt wrong. Guan Xingxin didn’t shed a single tear, refusing to lose her dignity. She swore that she would never cry for a man again.
She waited a long time, but nothing happened. With red eyes, Guan Xingxin turned around to pack up and head home. What was supposed to be a beautiful photo session had turned sour because of that bouquet.
Behind her, there was a cough. Guan Xingxin turned around, her figure briefly passing through the restaurant’s carved wall patterns. The sound of white sand underfoot. Yu Dule, wearing a gray-black thin suit and white T-shirt, with two necklaces stacked together and black-framed glasses, stood at the restaurant’s door, holding the film camera from their first date.
The wind passed between them, their hair blowing in the same direction. Neither of them spoke. If anyone happened to pass by, they would probably think it looked like a movie scene, but the people involved would swear that it wasn’t anything like what she had planned. She had staged so many beautiful scenes, but none of them were like this absurd one.
Only the cornflowers gave off a faint fragrance.
Busy and exhausted, Gu Yi answered a phone call from Jacqueline in the office. After lunch, a group of people was brainstorming ideas for a fun video program to create in the gloomy company atmosphere—commenting on life and workplace difficulties; offering perspectives on popular topics from a stand-up comedy angle; having discussions with excellent professionals from other industries to clash viewpoints… As they got more excited, the phone in her hand kept vibrating—who else could it be, other than takeout or Jacqueline?
Stepping out of the meeting room to answer the phone, she immediately called the person’s name, “Zhang Junjie, I’ll remind you again, I’ve resigned, I’m not your subordinate anymore.”
“Come work at my new company, and we can continue the boss-subordinate dynamic.”
“Am I crazy to let you manipulate me again?” Gu Yi pushed open the door—the company’s office was on the fourth floor, with a terrace where you could see the Fuxing Park. The nearby buildings weren’t tall, and the roads were narrow; the sunlight in November fell like a tawny blanket. It was 2 p.m., and everything was silent.
“Huang Wenda gave me a high quarterly budget. Didn’t you edit videos when you just graduated? You’ve also worked as an artist’s agent. Come work with me, I’ll teach you PR, a salary of 25,000, 13th-month salary, and 15 days of vacation.”
Wow. Gu Yi took a deep breath, digesting the words seriously, then spat it out rationally: “I wouldn’t believe you for a second. Here’s the translation of what I heard—salary 15,000 after deductions, a thousand deducted for each typo, 24-hour on-call, at least working weekends, vacation revoked for the slightest problem, and a public relations event will immediately cancel my year-end bonus. You can say that, but I’d sooner believe Huang Wenda is going to do charity on the street.”
The person on the other end laughed: “Think about it. I’m serious about teaching you. This industry is new. It’s no longer about PR copies and hiring paparazzi. Everyone is online, and spreading information is a new science. Beyond content, you’ll learn how to use data and public opinion. Eventually, you’ll become a high-earning professional with a million-dollar salary. By the time you’re thirty, you can go anywhere.”
“That may be true, but Jacqueline, I’m doing something I love. Money isn’t that important. It feels fulfilling to master things beyond my current abilities, but exploring in a field I enjoy, the happiness is double. Don’t persuade me to enter your field. You’re good at everything, but I’m not.”
“I get it. Liang Daiwen has money, and you don’t have financial pressure anymore.”
This angered Gu Yi: “The house is rented by me, I have a job that supports me, I’m in my prime, and my brain is still sharp! I don’t need to be mentored. I currently have three new media editors under me, managing a lot of work, and doing great! If you really respect me—” She pointed at her head on the rooftop, “Praise my independence and ability!”
She hung up without venting her anger, but when she returned home and saw Liang Daiwen, Gu Yi grabbed his collar and bit his ear. Liang Daiwen, bewildered, asked, “Are you a dog? Why are you biting me?”
“Jacqueline called me again today, trying to trick me into going to her company. The conclusion is that I’m sleeping in your house, and she laughs at me not being an independent woman. How treacherous! So, I’m supposed to be like her, single and focused on my career, monopolizing the partner’s expenses, swallowing my grievances, or else I’d be violating the rules of independence? It doesn’t make sense!”
“You know she’s just trying to provoke you to change jobs. What’s there to be angry about?” Liang Daiwen said, holding a paint palette, applying a layer of bright yellow on top of a red-brown base. It looked like flames. This had become his recent hobby—besides designing, he was trying to learn how to rest and build his imagination. But in reality... his paintings were a hundred times better than her ugly comics. Whenever this happened, Gu Yi thought the “barrel theory” still had a bit of fairness to it. While his rational thinking and academic abilities reached the heavens, his emotional side was absent, leaving his bucket of skills more balanced. This man would be flawless if his emotions were normal. But according to the roundabout theory, not having flaws was a flaw in itself.
The man stirring the paint calmly said, “You can move in. That house is just a warehouse, a luxury.”
“No. I’m going back today. Seeing you makes me angry. When will I ever take off the label of relying on others? Am I so poor deep down?”
Liang Daiwen didn’t speak, his back looked unusually pitiful. The paintbrush he held faced downward, as though it was also disappointed. He remained silent for a while before speaking: “I know you don’t want to rely on me, and when you’re emotionally unstable, you hide. Even though it sounds like you’re excellent, one day you’ll get tired and let go.”
She didn’t expect his words to hurt, and Gu Yi hurriedly explained, “I’m not, I didn’t mean that. It’s just I can’t stand being called spineless, but it’s not that I don’t want to rely on you...”
“You’ve stopped living in the rented house, changed jobs, and now home and office are no longer next to each other, yet you still insist on staying. I can’t understand it. I can only think that I’m not good enough, which makes you always want to escape. That’s your place to avoid me, a backup for yourself.”
“I didn’t… Fine, I’ll agree to cancel the lease. I’ll have over 5,000 left every month. I should be happy about that... I kept it when Xingxin had nowhere to go, but now she’s gone, so it’s fine to cancel it...”
Liang Daiwen said nothing. He quietly mixed the paint. Within a few minutes, a thin layer of paint on the palette dried, and he added water slowly to mix it. His hair covered his ears, and his side profile showed unspeakable sadness. The man, who had once been expressionless, now rarely got angry. His sadness was always shown through silence. Gu Yi felt more and more guilty. She took out her phone and sent a message to the landlord, firmly stating she would cancel the lease and that the deposit would be fully withheld. After everything was done, she squatted down and looked up at Liang Daiwen. The man, looking at her, wore an expression that said—”Mission accomplished.”
“Liang Daiwen, you lied! You’re acting and fooling me!”
He picked up the paintbrush and began painting again, his fingers agile, his intelligence dominating the situation. Liang Daiwen calmly said, “I never realized lying was so easy. I’ve always had a talent for emotional blockage. After all, I can’t smile, and I’m slow to react. I should have become a moral degenerate years ago.”
“You!”
“What’s wrong with me?” Liang Daiwen raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”
“You’re a liar! I shouldn’t have seen you as the rare good guy in the world of men! You have no morals, deceiving women, plotting schemes, you big pig’s hoof!”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Gu Yi was so furious she nearly exploded, “Now you have brains and emotions, and you’ve got me completely turned around! From today on, no contact for thirty days. You’re not allowed to touch me.”
But Liang Daiwen pulled her toward the bedroom. Gu Yi struggled hard, her feet almost sparking from friction. “I’m not going! You can’t just go to bed every time we argue and can’t win!”
“What are you thinking?” Liang Daiwen held her tightly, her feet leaving the ground, and only released her when they reached the bedroom. “Go to bed.”
Beneath the bed, where she had failed to arrange it last time, there were cotton and light strips sticking to the underside, outlining a shape that looked like a rabbit. Liang Daiwen said, “Have you finished looking? I’m here.”
The man who had slipped in bumped his head and let out a muffled grunt. They were close to each other, with the lights flickering. Liang Daiwen took her hand and said, “There’s something I need to tell you. I’ve renewed the lease for Uncle Lu’s Rongmao Theater. I’ll be hosting some salons with accessible design, and if you want to do a stand-up theater, we can discuss it. I might not have fully evolved yet, and my possessiveness is indeed a bit strong. I admit that. But I promise, as long as you do what you love, I’ll be your reliable support, even though the robot’s thought process is a bit convoluted.” After a brief pause, he added, “I will protect you.”
He was shy. Gazing steadily at Liang Daiwen, Gu Yi pondered in her heart—safety is such a mysterious thing. As time passes, even the closest relationships feel insecure. Maybe this man, whose emotional sensitivity isn’t quite complete, is still doing his best to lay a perfect runway for her, letting her soar. Faced with Liang Daiwen’s eager expectation, Gu Yi gently parted her lips and gave the most perfect response—
“Achoo!”
It was rare for Gu Yi to get a chance to perform at the antelope’s show. She rode her bike downstairs—yes, the bike, which had been lost and found again, was now standing in the hallway, freshly painted pink and serving as her new ride. Having waited for so long without the chance to get on stage, today she was going to tell enough jokes. Liang Daiwen, who had won the ticket, was still in a meeting, and at five o’clock, he texted her calmly: “The show starts at 8:30, how long will this meeting last?”
At 9:00, with four actors having performed, the atmosphere was already getting heated, but Liang Daiwen still hadn’t arrived. Sitting on the sofa, Gu Yi sneakily lifted the curtain, her crossed legs making the sofa creak audibly, which the audience could hear. Feeling slightly embarrassed, she sat upright. Liang Daiwen slinked in through the door, sitting in a corner of the front row. They exchanged a nod across the bookshelf. Without a doubt, this person wouldn’t show signs of rushing in the meeting room; he would definitely complete his work before sprinting out of the office.
Out of breath, Liang Daiwen arrived. Between each performer, there were brief intervals with music and a stage host. He was just in time—thankfully, or that woman would have beaten him half to death. The clinking of bottles could be heard from time to time, and the mood lightened—thank goodness for the music and alcohol, or the overflowing love of humans would have no outlet.
There are many people who can share happiness. But when you’re covered in dust in the depths, gasping for air in the ruins, remember to grab hold of the person who sees you and runs towards you, even if they fall and get hurt. And love her fiercely.
The host announced, “Next, let’s welcome my good friend, a woman whose inspiration is about to run dry in her passionate relationship—Gu Yi.”
Gu Yi took the microphone, and the audience, remembering her recent proposal, began to tease her. She waved her hand, “Alright, alright, this isn’t something worth bragging about for so long. If men were so persistent, there wouldn’t be so many ‘he’s good and I’m good’ commercials on TV.”
“I haven’t had many opportunities to get on stage recently. I’ve been busy, so I’ve gathered quite a few jokes. As you all know, I love talking about men and relationships. What can I do? Look at my appearance and figure; it’s impossible for me not to get tangled up with men in this life. Men, advanced male primates, their actions and words are puzzling, but they’re really interesting. I didn’t want to talk about men anymore, but I couldn’t help it—I’ve got all these jokes saved up. Open mic is free, so bear with me if I offend you. After all, no charge means you have to pay the price somehow.”
“From childhood, boys and girls have different systems for processing compliments. Boys get lots of praise—they’re expected to continue the family line, start a career, and these responsibilities make them seem so much taller. And everything about boys is good—mischievousness is clever, poor grades are fine, they’ll pick up the pace in high school—though no one knows what ‘picking up the pace’ really means—cough. But girls are told: no, be obedient, you can’t do that, you won’t be good for long, you’ll slack off in junior high, you’re not as good as boys. The most interesting thing in childhood is how adults couldn’t tolerate girls imitating Qiong Yao, acting out ancient costume dramas with handkerchiefs, calling us pretentious, artificial, or silly; but boys who imitated Ultraman were ‘cool.’ Boys’ self-given martial arts names are mostly Wei Xiaobao, Li Xunhuan, or Zhang Wuji... See, they rarely call themselves Yang Guo or Yue Buqun—taste that, how insecure, they can’t stand a little flaw.”
“Relationships between men and women are the same. In their eyes, every interaction between a woman and a man could mean she likes him. Once the question ‘Do you like me?’ is asked, no matter what we say, they’ll only hear, ‘Here’s your chance to love me.’ When chatting and trying to reject them, they’ll ask: ‘My avatar is me, are you not satisfied?’ If you’re hungry and order two bowls of noodles, they’ll walk by and think the other bowl was ordered for them. If you post a pretty selfie on WeChat, they’ll reply instantly, ‘Who are you dressing up for?’ If you don’t reply, they’ll immediately send a private message: ‘This little trick, not replying to my message, you’ve successfully attracted me.’ Even if you’re speechless, they’ll think, ‘See, this woman has already fallen for my charm. Love, I’m the chosen one.’”
“Friends, don’t doubt it—men’s obsession with love is never weaker than women’s. How to make a man notice you quickly? Let me teach you two tricks. The first trick: Like his WeChat posts—photos or cover images, doesn’t matter—like a few more, creating a fake impression that you’ve gone through his entire profile. I guarantee you, for the next day, he’ll be wondering why you suddenly came to look at him. Does she like me? The second trick: Tell his friends that you want to pursue him, but think it’s too hard, so you’re giving up. Say it three days in a row, and he’ll be brainwashed quickly. Even if he doesn’t like you immediately, he’ll keep thinking, ‘Am I really that charming?’ Men’s thought process is convoluted, but once you untangle it, it’s simple—anything that flatters them, they’ll absorb it quickly. Sometimes, to spare their feelings, we’ll say some shameless things like ‘You’re really handsome,’ ‘The belly makes you look mature,’ ‘Your personality is charming,’ ‘So big,’—believe me, they’ll accept it with sincerity, and take it as their own label.”
“Of course, I’m not doubting men at all. On the contrary, I highly respect them. Because they’ve helped me build a strong character and a resistance to being fooled. They often say things that break us, like ‘We need you,’ ‘We can’t bear to see you suffer,’ ‘We can’t live without you,’ ‘Try it, love is beautiful.’ I feel so moved, thinking, ‘What a deep abyss of love, I jumped in.’ Then, we’ll see him saying the same things to someone else on his phone, lying on the couch and asking us to pour water, and when caught playing games with his ex, he’ll deny it fiercely. We can’t do anything about it, just hug our pillow and cry. Love, this hurtful thing, I never want it again. After that, when I get scam calls, I’m alert—once they say, ‘We don’t take money, we just want you to experience it,’ I immediately know, this is worse than taking my money. Life is no game, life won’t come again. Friends, when men and love stand in front of you, stay clear-headed. The brightest thing isn’t them, it’s the eyes that don’t blink when you look at them.”
The audience burst into applause. Gu Yi also laughed at herself, lowering her head to play with the long microphone cord, her voice lazy: “Those who have seen me might know I have a boyfriend, and things are going well. He came by not long ago and even did a stand-up show; it was quite touching. But the man with emotional dysregulation has finally learned to lie. Friends, don’t believe men, say it with me, NEVER.”
Gu Yi turned her head to look, Liang Daiwen was sitting in the corner, covering his mouth, silent as usual. It was time to bring the focus back to him. She pointed at the corner of the audience: “Why aren’t you laughing? Is it because you can’t relate to being a man?”
The audience loved the interactive moments, and many eyes turned toward Liang Daiwen. Gu Yi was relentless: “Yes, this audience member, I’m talking about you. Everyone else is laughing, but you’re the only one not.”
Liang Daiwen stared at her for a few seconds, his hand on his lips moved to his forehead, shielding his eyes as he helplessly raised the corner of his mouth, surrendering. At that moment, the audience’s smiles spread, as if all worries had dissolved in that instant. A breeze passed, and it felt like the sound of wind chimes in the air, time subtly overlapping with two years ago. If fate really has plans, “ounce” is the best interpretation—there’s an ounce inside us, containing all emotions of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. The moment you feel love, congratulations, you’re finished. But don’t control it, love each other early.
(The End)
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