TPIL - 55

“Miss Luo, please help me.”

The words were firm and resolute, spoken in a gentle and humble tone.

The ambulance vibrated subtly and steadily, its bright lights like a dream. Luo Andi remained frozen for what felt like an eternity, as if her entire being had gone numb along with her fingertips that had lost blood flow. Suddenly, she felt icy water dripping onto her forehead, but when she raised her hand to touch it, she realized it was an illusion. Whether it was her nose or her eyes, everything was dry.

Upon arriving at the emergency building, the medical staff quickly wheeled Su Yining, the patient, out of the ambulance. Luo Andi followed behind. Someone came to urge her to pay the fees, and after handling that, she went inside. Help, assist, extend a hand. Her steps abruptly slowed, an unusual sensation surging from deep within her stomach. She tried desperately to suppress it but could not stop it.

“Ugh—” Luo Andi covered her mouth, her body leaning forward as nausea overtook her. It shouldn’t have been food poisoning, and there were no signs of pregnancy. She blinked rapidly, completely unaware of why she was feeling this way.

A nurse found her and led her to the ward, where a doctor explained the situation before she entered.

The wound had already been bandaged. Su Yining struggled to prop himself up and said, “Miss Luo.”

Whether it was due to the influence of her privileged upbringing or simply superior genetics, the man possessed a noble face that inadvertently exuded a Hamlet-like melancholy. The things that troubled him were far beyond daily meals or setting up camp; he had never lacked clothing or food. Su Yining’s daily struggles weren’t about basic necessities but rather more refined and elevated pursuits. However, Luo Andi couldn’t say she didn’t understand him at all.

He said, “The police will come soon. They’ve also contacted the mall. Since it wasn’t on the road, they likely won’t classify it as dangerous driving—”

She stared ahead.

“Miss Luo? Miss Luo? Are you alright?”

After being called several times, Luo Andi finally snapped out of her daze, nodding slowly and faintly: “Thank you. Today was truly dangerous.”

“I willingly saved you, Miss Luo. Now that I think about it, it’s fortunate I was there. If I hadn’t been, I don’t know what might have happened…” Su Yining continued speaking as if to himself, his words flowing endlessly. “Even though I’m injured now, as long as you’re safe and sound, that’s all that matters.”

He had much more to say, and indeed, he kept talking. But Luo Andi sank into a silent realm, like someone submerged underwater.

Her principles for dealing with people and situations were clear. Logically, according to the rules, this wasn’t an unfamiliar scenario. She had done it countless times before. The injured person was right in front of her, pitiful and waiting for the magic she had mastered so well. A smile gradually appeared on Luo Andi’s face, but she didn’t speak.

The chairs in the ward had no backrests, making them uncomfortable. The walls were glaringly white, the smell of disinfectant unpleasant. The exposed gauze and the male body beneath it evoked a profound sense of unease. Her vision blurred, colors overlapping. Finally, Luo Andi spoke, her voice gentle: “I’ll help you.”

At those words, the subtle awkwardness that had lingered earlier completely dissipated. Su Yining finally let out a sigh of relief—everything had been worth it. All the meticulous planning, enduring injuries, and risking exposure and disgrace to build this castle had been worthwhile. She belonged in such a place. Even if an investigation were conducted, no evidence would be found. Those who didn’t understand the use of money were incompetent, no matter how skilled they were at earning it. He gripped her hand more tightly, his fingers trembling as he held her entire palm. Luo Andi’s hand was cold, like the mythical jade scepter from ghost stories—a wish-granting existence.

If one had to say, Su Yining hadn’t been overwhelmed by euphoria just yet. What puzzled him slightly was that even though Luo Andi was smiling, she hadn’t blinked once throughout their interaction, yet the direction of her gaze was peculiar.

She focused intently ahead, but her line of sight wasn’t on his face, nor his injury, nor the window. Instead, it fell on the empty space between him and the wall. There was nothing there, yet she stared at it.

An unknown instinct nagged at him, like a bone stuck in his throat. Su Yining intuitively decided it was better not to ask.

This plan was only effective on her, and only those who fully understood her could grasp its efficacy. Kidnapping her, imprisoning her, keeping her confined. Luo Andi absolutely couldn’t ignore someone in need of help, especially someone who had fallen into misfortune because of her. To those involved, it might be confusing, but outsiders could see clearly. Perhaps she herself wasn’t explicitly aware of it, but there were always people around who noticed. He tried to steer the conversation back with other topics, but an unexpected situation arose.

Luo Andi stood up, her demeanor calm and soft, impeccable in every way. She said, “I’ll step out to make a phone call.”

As she reached the door and turned back, Su Yining watched her leave. She smiled at him, gave a slight nod, and then stepped out, carefully closing the door behind her. When she turned around, she encountered a nurse and politely greeted her, showing no sign of anything unusual.

Luo Andi walked forward.

Being caught, manipulated, and demanded of continuously, helping without asking for anything in return. She took one step after another.

Her expression, including her smile, gradually faded, but there were no signs of panic, anger, or sorrow either. All she did was walk forward, each sound of her heels hitting the floor echoing in her skull. Luo Andi walked as if through pitch darkness, aimless, dazed, and devoid of anything.

It was as if she had become something without blood or flesh. Outside the hospital entrance, people came and went. Her long hair curled at her shoulders. A child holding their parents’ hands couldn’t help but stare at her. Without looking back, Luo Andi walked out.

Half an hour later, the person who had left still hadn’t returned. Su Yining began to feel puzzled. He pulled out his phone and dialed Luo Andi’s number—it wasn’t busy, but the ringing sound came from a spot startlingly close by. After looking around, he discovered her phone lying beneath the seat.

He hurriedly picked it up and rushed out, but before he even reached the elevator, he was intercepted by nurses and police officers who had arrived to investigate. In one hand, he held her phone, which kept dialing out; in the other, he received incoming calls.

The phone continued to ring. Zhong Shiyiwei lifted his head from the couch, yawning as he said, “Ah, it’s my girlfriend.”

For a moment, he was surprised by how quickly Zhong Shiyiwei had moved on, but then he reasoned that perhaps this was normal. It was strange for someone to be fixated on a middle school memory for over a decade—like those kids in elementary school who couldn’t let go. Qi Xiaochuan, already in a foul mood after pulling an all-nighter at work, immediately issued an eviction notice: “I treated you to dinner and even let you stay over—consider it charity. I’m leaving now, and you’ve got five minutes to disappear.”

“You’re so emotionally unstable! Your mood changes faster than flipping pages,” Zhong Shiyiwei grumbled, but he still quickly packed up his things. The previous night at the hot pot restaurant, he’d heard someone else was paying, so he impulsively drank a few more pitchers of beer. Unable to ride his motorcycle home and with the subway shut down, he ended up crashing at Qi Xiaochuan’s company.

“Only Luo Andi can put up with you,” he added as an afterthought, but the comment only further irritated Qi Xiaochuan: “You’ve got three minutes now. If you don’t leave, I’ll call security right away—”

Qi Xiaochuan had originally scheduled an advanced felting class for the morning, but feeling too exhausted, he decided to cancel it in person. It was rare for Luo Andi to be late. He asked the driver, hoping to get some information about her whereabouts. When he learned she hadn’t contacted anyone, he casually called the housekeeping staff.

She didn’t come home last night.

Qi Xiaochuan silently thought to himself: Just like before, completely incomprehensible.

No trace of her.

He stood by the car, memories long buried surfacing like exposed reefs. Faint and distant, they came back to him. Luo Andi’s father had invited Qi Xiaochuan’s family to dinner—it seemed to be the only time their two families had ever shared a meal. It was a farewell before departure. Mr. Luo had raised a toast to Qi Xiaochuan’s parents, while the children, still in middle school, ate silently. Throughout the meal, Luo Andi hadn’t looked at Qi Xiaochuan once.

As a high school senior, he had been perfectly satisfied with that. After the meal, he strolled through the moonlit courtyard. Luo Andi followed behind him, and though he knew it, he said nothing.

No word from her.

It was she who spoke first. On the verge of entering high school, Luo Andi said to him, “Xiaoxiao.” She had called him that countless times. “I’m sorry for before. I was such a bother, wasn’t I?” He watched her from afar, silent. She continued, wearing the smile he detested: “You’ll definitely be very happy in the future.”

And then she disappeared without a trace.

Just like that, she vanished completely.

Qi Xiaochuan pulled the driver out of the driver’s seat and got in. At that moment, Zhong Shiyiwei appeared on his motorcycle, asking, “Where are you going?” but received the instruction, “Call Luo Andi.”

After staying up late the previous night to deal with particularly difficult work, driving a car he wasn’t used to, and now, in this moment, the only thing he wanted to do besides sleep was poke at the wool felt repeatedly, shaping it into the desired form. Irritated to the extreme, aimlessly circling, Qi Xiaochuan finally acknowledged his own stupidity.

The torrential rain poured down like the final curtain. As soon as he returned home, he had already deduced the remaining four possible destinations. When he drove into the “Downton Abbey” of the Luo family estate, the first thing he noticed was the unlocked door. Qi Xiaochuan didn’t go upstairs. Instead, he closed his umbrella and walked inside. After circling the first floor and finding no one, he checked the second floor, which was also empty. Luo Andi’s old bedroom was covered in dust, the princess bed reduced to a bare frame. Thinking he had missed her again, he prepared to head to the next possible location. However, just as he was about to return to the car, something inexplicable made him glance out the window.

From her second-floor bedroom, through the dense foliage, one could see the shimmering surface of the garden pond. Luo Andi had loved that pond.

After the drowned body of a boy had been retrieved, the water had been completely drained, leaving behind years of muddy filth. Her skirt was dirty, her body soaked. Alone in the pouring rain, the woman stood in solitude. Each step was laborious—he saw Luo Andi.

Luo Andi, who satisfied her need to help others by borrowing people, who used her relationship with him to alleviate her troubles, whose true nature was neither noble nor kind.

The black umbrella was shockingly bright, illuminating the chaotic world. He needed to respond, to say something. Though he couldn’t make out the approaching figure, the moment she stopped being rained on, it was as if her internal organs rejected the return to normalcy. Her body resisted, and she bent over to vomit. No matter how hard she searched her memories, she couldn’t recall a time when Luo Andi had looked so disheveled. Every part of her body, every inch of skin, every drop of blood fiercely resisted. It was too much. She couldn’t take it anymore. She was about to collapse. The teachings she had received from her parents felt like detached, self-satisfied dolls, staring down at her with glassy eyes.

It’s too much. A voice repeated incessantly in her chest. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t bear it.

It’s too much.

I can’t take it anymore.

—I’m covered in mud. I’m cold and wet. I’m dying. I can’t bear it anymore.

Qi Xiaochuan tried speaking to her several times but received no response. First, he helped her vomit, reaching in to press against the back of her tongue without disgust, then checked her obviously feverish forehead. He turned around, estimating the distance from the bottom of the pond back to the car. But at that moment, when he turned back, he saw her outstretched hands.

Luo Andi was on the verge of collapsing, but her arms found support. A man’s fingers entered her mouth, and the pain was overwhelmed by the urge to vomit. Finally, she threw up. It felt as if her back was being gently patted, and her chaotic vision gradually cleared. She saw the perpetually furrowed-brow man.

Xiaoxiao.

She reached out her hands.

“Xiaoxiao,” her brother was dead, her father was dead, her mother was dead. Money and houses—all gone. On her rain-soaked face, she smiled—the saddest expression he had ever seen in his life. She had once hypnotized herself into believing everything was just a story: she was a story, Qi Xiaochuan in her memories was a story, everyone related or unrelated who sought help from her was a story. When the story ended, everything would return to how it was before. She embraced him, pressing her wet face against him. Her voice emerged weakly from her frail chest: “So warm.”

Qi Xiaochuan accepted her embrace, her tears, her pitifulness, and her hatred.

He stared ahead, lost.

“So warm, so comfortable, Xiaoxiao. I want to stay,” she closed her eyes, not shouting, not crying uncontrollably, but whispering like breathing, “with you forever.

“Don’t leave me.”