Main Story Chapter 22 Card: Charlie - Embracing the Inferno (投奔烈火) Part 1 | Light and Night 光與夜之戀
Light and Night Polyphony
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Substitute for Hero
My older brother said this when he handed me his shoes:
"These shoes have the strongest power in the world. As long as you wear them and run out, you can become everyone's hero."
He was barefoot, smiling with absolute certainty. Just like countless times when we played adventure games, he always rushed to play the Great Demon King, leaving the protagonist role to me.
But actually, we both knew who the real protagonist was.
In our world, there was Dad, Mom, teachers, little friends, Grandma next door, and the kitten that got scratched by the wire fence and saved by my brother.
And there was me, a black bird perched on the protagonist's shoulder, listening to him chat, watching him read thick books, secretly eating his share of dessert, and even when I occasionally got lost, he would find his way back home.
That's right, a black bird. This is the role I think is most suitable for me, and the one I like the most.
One day, the protagonist would complete his thrilling adventure, save the world in peril, and become a hero known throughout the land.
Wherever he went, he would be showered with people's flowers and praises. The black bird standing on his shoulder would puff out its chest proudly, because having accompanied the hero all the way, he knew that this was no exaggeration at all. This is the ending that all adventure stories should have.
But today's story is different. No one has written it this way. How could the protagonist sacrifice himself in the first half of the adventure, and for the sake of that inconspicuous black bird?
I lay in the hospital bed, thinking for a long time, not knowing how to continue acting.
From that day on, every deep night, I could hear many cries. I couldn't distinguish if they were from myself, or from Mom and Dad, or from the many, many people in the future waiting for a hero to save them.
But I'm not a hero. You've mistaken me for someone else.
When I opened my eyes, Mom and Dad were gathered by my bed. They brought my brother's favorite snacks and placed the shoes my brother told me to wear by the bedside. They called me Charlie.
From what point did the trajectory of your life begin to change? I think mine was at that moment.
A hero always has a powerful weapon. That weapon glows. People might not even know what the hero looks like, but as long as they see the weapon, they know he has arrived. So, what if the black bird holds that weapon?
My shoes, my appearance, my ability to understand my brother's books, I held his sword. I looked up and found my brother sitting on the windowsill.
His appearance kept changing: five years old, ten years old, sixteen years old, twenty years old, thirty years old. Carrying a schoolbag, wearing a school uniform, taking off the school uniform, putting on a white coat, sitting neatly in the classroom, standing on the operating table stained with blood.
I asked him, do you think I can play the protagonist well and save this world? My brother's eyes looking back at me were calm and clear, a little different from his usual self. He nodded and said, "You definitely can."
So I turned around and fell into my parents' embrace, giving a heavy affirmative response.
-
Towards Freedom Part 1
Three days later, Charlie was discharged from the hospital.
The moment he sat up from the hospital bed, he completely said goodbye to the black bird he once was, telling himself that he had to play the role of a true hero.
He was no longer naughty or crying, no longer fussing for steamed rice roll. He treated everyone politely and gently.
Every morning, he looked in the mirror, demanding himself to be an "excellent student," aiming to get A+ in every subject, and to get A+ looking effortless.
When the school organized mountain climbing, he was always the teacher's best helper, looking after every classmate's emotions, and learned many jokes to liven up the atmosphere whenever needed.
He picked up his brother's medical books, learning to look at those human anatomy diagrams. Far from being able to understand them at a glance like his brother, he needed to make himself fall in love with them.
Charlie: Look, getting to know the human body is very interesting.
Charlie: After food is swallowed by us, it first has to pass through the sharp gate of the monster, then through a long tunnel...
Charlie: Then fall into a big pocket, melting bit by bit...
He traced the pictures in the colorful anatomy book one by one, from the mouth, esophagus, finally stopping at the stomach in the center of the body, drawing several circles.
The boring act of eating was imagined as a long journey.
Charlie: Doing one thing well just takes a little time.
Charlie: But you can't be afraid. Once you're afraid, you lose.
He always learned to talk to himself in his brother's tone, thinking about what the great hero would say and do if he encountered a certain situation.
Soon, his "learning" showed significant results. The Zha family's eldest son had survived. Everyone accepted this fact.
Dad, Mom, even Lao He, who often met with their family—no, Doctor He—he didn't recognize him either.
The day they left Guangqi, at the airport, Doctor He knelt down and looked at him with a smile.
Dr. He: Charlie, you always used to say you wanted to be Doctor He's disciple.
Dr. He: In the future, remember, even if you don't become a doctor, come back and visit often.
He nodded forcefully. He would definitely become a doctor. Heroes are the most committed people.
Later, on a land he was not yet familiar with, he also said goodbye to his mother.
His father worried him especially. After successively losing loved ones, his father's face became increasingly devoid of spirit, yet he worked even harder than before.
When he came home late, his father would smell of alcohol. He had come to understand that this was also part of work, called socializing.
His alcohol-scented father would sit on the sofa for a long time. He would peek out from the crack in the room door and his father would always beckon him over.
Zha Zhao Peng: Charlie, remember when the four of us used to watch soccer games on Sundays...
Zha Zhao Peng: You and your brother never supported the same team, always arguing, and wouldn't quiet down until your mom brought out popsicles.
He listened, then ran over and turned on the TV in the living room, tuned it to a soccer channel, and then went to get two popsicles, handing one to his father.
Charlie: Dad, I checked. There's a soccer game on tonight.
His father paused for a moment, helped him tear open the wrapper, then tore open his own. Father and son sat in the dimly lit living room until they fell asleep.
This was one of his favorite moments now. Before sleeping, his father would always hold him and talk to him.
Zha Zhao Peng: Charlie, you are Dad's greatest comfort. Thank goodness I have you, so smart and sensible.
From his father's embrace, he could only see a line of light from the fireplace reflecting through a gap.
Of course, the one who stayed should be the smart and sensible hero, not the clumsy and mischievous black bird.
Charlie closed his eyes, carefully examining the world of the adventure story, making sure there were no traces of the black bird inside.
Sword of the hero in hand, clad in golden armor, embarking on the path of leveling up and defeating monsters, gaining the achievements, popularity, and praises that once belonged to his brother, becoming the focus of people's attention.
He believed that as long as he continued the game, he would reap more rewards. For this, he was willing to pay more.
One day when he was twelve, he entered junior high school. The school issued a notice organizing students to go play at the beach.
His childhood swimsuit no longer fit, so he had to buy a new one.
It was in the fitting room that he saw the black mole on his shoulder blade.
That's right, he had a black mole, but his brother didn't. His parents used to joke that when they were little, they used this mole to distinguish between the brothers, to avoid giving one of them two baths.
What if someone at the beach accidentally noticed it and told his father—
Should he ask for sick leave and drop out? But as soon as class was over, he was surrounded by classmates and immediately received many invitations to join groups.
Ruìqìní has many beaches. He would have to stay here for many more years, and he was outgoing and popular. He couldn't always drop out by taking sick leave.
He decided to remove the mole in a place where no one would notice.
He opened a surgical textbook, brought a utility knife and an alcohol lamp, hid in an empty classroom, looked in the mirror, and carefully aimed at the mole.
It was like aiming at the last feather the black bird had lost in some corner.
He gritted his teeth and made a small cut along the edge of the mole. Afraid of not removing it completely, he endured the pain and cut a little deeper.
Charlie: Hiss—
But he didn't expect stabbing himself to hurt so much. Maybe it hurt as much as that time when he was five, maybe even more.
Blood slid down the cut. He was a little panicked and could only press rolls of gauze onto the wound.
The wound finally stopped bleeding, but a deep pit appeared on his back that took a long time to heal. It ached faintly night after night, preventing him from sleeping well.
Every night before sleeping, he would make some wishes, hoping the dream god could help them come true.
Charlie: I hope the wound can heal before the day we go to the beach.
Charlie: I hope Simon doesn't wear those swim trunks that easily rip open. I hope Nick doesn't forget to bring a life preserver.
Charlie: Oh, and most importantly, I hope it's a good weather on the day we go to the beach.
After making his wishes, he fell asleep contentedly, eager to throw himself into that dream world, where there was a blue sea, blue sky, golden sand, and coconuts falling with a plop.
But his wishes ultimately didn't come true—the beach trip was canceled.
-
On the sunny afternoon when they were supposed to leave, when the teacher announced the cancellation, he raised his hand and stood up.
Charlie: Teacher, why can't we go to the beach?
Teacher: That is the school's decision.
Charlie: Why did the school make this decision?
Teacher: That is the school's consideration. We just need to follow the rules and not ask too many questions.
Teacher: How about this, let's have self-study this afternoon. Everyone can read a book they like.
The teacher smiled at everyone and left the classroom. A wave of sighs rose around him, then gradually subsided.
Charlie sat in his seat. The wound on his shoulder still ached. Before leaving home, he had put on a waterproof bandage, but it was quickly soaked with sweat.
He was thinking about some questions, thinking very seriously, because these questions were different from any he had encountered before.
Why could something he had looked forward to for so long be so easily taken away by others? Why should he just obey the school's rules?
Why couldn't they know the reason? Were they afraid they wouldn't understand? But how could the teacher know they wouldn't understand?
As he thought, he stood up.
No one in the classroom noticed him. So he walked along the main door towards the sports equipment room, his steps getting faster and faster, his breathing tighter and tighter.
He walked straight into the changing room, changed into the swimsuit and goggles he had prepared long ago, and then used water to slick his hair back into a cool style.
Long ago, in that gangster movie their family watched together, who was the character who fussed about wanting his mother to comb his hair that way the next day?
After taking one last look in the mirror, he returned to the classroom.
He picked up a broom from the back row, turned on the MP3 he carried with him, and flipped over his desk.
Nick: Oh my god, Charlie, didn't the teacher say we were supposed to have self-study?
His friend looked at him nervously and in surprise, but he didn't reply. He just stood inside the desk, solemnly handing the broom to the other person and lowering his voice, like a pirate captain in an adventure story.
Charlie: Ahoy there, landlubber. Captain Charlie's ship only accepts the bravest crew members.
Classmate A: What... what's your ship's name?
Someone hesitantly asked the question. Charlie thought for a moment.
Charlie: It's called Black Bird Hero.
At first, everyone looked at each other, until a sturdy little boy jumped into Charlie's "little ship."
Little boy: Captain, what are your orders?
Charlie smiled, a radiant light rising on his face.
Charlie: Set sail! Charge towards freedom!
"Freedom" had syllables that could heighten the mood. Even without understanding the meaning, it could easily ignite people's spirits.
More and more people jumped into his "little ship," or flipped over their desks to create their own ships.
Their desks were their ships, the brooms were their oars, the strong beats were crashing waves, and the gentle notes were trickling streams, the grey tiles were their beach.
And so, they wildly and wholeheartedly entered the world of the sea. Their joyful laughter broke through the confines of the small classroom, soaring towards the sky.
But the good times didn't last long. The jarring noise finally attracted the teacher. Their eyes were nearly popped out of their heads. They dragged out the leading "captain."
The other crew members were lectured and then sent home, but Charlie, as the instigator, was kept for a long time.
The teacher didn't harshly criticize him, as he was always an excellent student. They just made him copy the rule about maintaining quiet during self-study several times.
As the sun set in the west, he walked home alone and suddenly saw a figure appear beside him, walking alongside him.
He stopped, and the figure also stopped. There was no reflection. He looked in some surprise at the face that was exactly the same as his own.
Charlie: Older Brother.
??: Mm.
His older brother looked at him with a smile, a little teasingly. It had been a long time since he had seen his older brother's figure.
??: You haven't come home this late in a long time.
The dream-like afternoon faded. Charlie remembered the rule about keeping quiet during self-study, posted on the blackboard, so large and clear.
He pursed his lips and lowered his head, his face feeling hot.
Charlie: You saw all that? Sorry, I didn't act well today.
??: You did very well. Even I couldn't act that much like myself.
Charlie: What are you talking about—
Charlie laughed. His older brother stood ahead, as if waiting for him to catch up. He walked over to the figure in a few steps.
Charlie: Since you're watching, if you see me do anything wrong in the future, remember to remind me.
??: No problem. Want to hook pinkies?
His older brother agreed as gently as ever. The two of them hooked pinkies and walked home together.
-
Towards Freedom Part 2
From that day on, in the eyes of his father, teachers, and classmates, Charlie returned to being that model student—treating people humbly, intelligent and outstanding, no different from the Charlie they had always known.
Only he himself knew that it wasn't true.
From that day on, his older brother kept his promise. Junior high school, junior high graduation, high school, he heard the other party talking in his ear more and more, and saw his figure more and more.
This also meant that Charlie had more and more things that he didn't do well enough.
The bird watching activity he wanted to participate in happened to be on the same day as his older brother's favorite reading day.
Standing at the podium to share his book report, Charlie was still thinking about the reclusive owl that only spoke to him. It desperately needed company, but this week, he had to break his promise.
He made a slip of the tongue, and in the dense crowd, his older brother laughed heartily. He should have laughed too, but he didn't.
When filling out his high school application, he wanted to go somewhere far from home because he liked the shimmering river on the way, but his older brother shook his head.
His father needed him, and besides, the teaching quality here was better. Looking into his older brother's eyes, Charlie was persuaded.
A photo of that river remained as his desktop wallpaper for a long time. After filling out the application, it was changed to a default dark blue one.
That shimmering river belonging to his sixteen-year-old self—this was something he could never possess again. Since he couldn't have it, he simply stopped looking at it.
-
Just like that, day after day passed. He accumulated more and more awards and honors. His father decorated a gold and red honor wall for him at home.
His father would always look at this wall, pat his shoulder contentedly, and say that one day, he would surpass him and become the most brilliant new star in the field of pharmacology.
But he could only think of his father's endless social engagements, his red-rimmed eyes from staying up late, his repeatedly broken principles, and his increasingly rare smiles.
There were countless nights he wanted to talk to his father, to tell him to stop. But his older brother stood by the door, telling him that these were the rules of this world.
Charlie gripped the doorknob and turned his head. Both figures in the light had grown much taller, standing quietly face to face.
His future was still very long, yet it felt like it was trapped between two black and white walls, with nowhere to extend.
It was also like the time he was sorting old things and came across a comic book they both used to love. The adventure story inside had turned yellow, and the colorful pages were no longer vibrant.
Life continued forward according to a regular and monotonous two-point-one-line routine. He went to the hospital to study on weekends. He performed very well, like a precisely functioning instrument. No one noticed anything unusual.
But besides that, he did nothing else.
When he was free, he would lie on the floor, watching the sun slowly set, feeling his body and mind sinking with it, constantly sinking.
-
His older brother finally noticed something was wrong with him. On a dull afternoon, his older brother knelt by the bed and poked him with a black feather glove.
??: Do you want to go see the little birds?
Charlie: I don't want to.
??: Then I heard there's an all-you-can-eat avocado event happening recently. Shall I go with you?
Charlie: You can't eat, so no.
His older brother frowned. He had been doing this since Charlie was very young. Most of the time, it was when he was thinking about how to fix the messes his younger brother had made.
But here, there were no messes for him to fix. Therefore, in the end, he only sighed.
??: Then what do you want to do?
Charlie shook his head and rolled over on the floor.
Charlie: Maybe some other day.
Without new things, there would be no disagreements. Without the possibility of a new future, there would be no unwillingness.
He wanted to keep his promise, he was willing to keep his promise. He wanted to be that great hero, nothing more.
When he was sixteen, Charlie became an intern reporter. This was the first thing he had felt a trace of enthusiasm for in a long time.
Besides, it was just an internship; it wasn't meant to be a career.
Not long after starting, he was assigned a social investigation task: studying the tendency towards violence in children at welfare institutions.
This day, he came to a welfare institution called "Blue Sky." Pushing open the iron gate, it was a scene of desolation and dilapidation.
The children were attracted by the candy and desserts he brought. Before long, they were intimately gathered around him, chattering and calling him "Older Brother."
The children at the welfare institution were far more sensitive than adults. He played with them for a long time before they let down their guard and were willing to chat with him.
From them, he learned that this mixed-up neighborhood wasn't peaceful. Fights often occurred, and most of the time, the children from the welfare institution were involved.
One teenager named Pluto was mentioned repeatedly. One boy complained unhappily that Pluto had strong self-esteem but was also very sensitive, and if someone looked at him a little too much, they would get beaten.
However, he didn't see him at the welfare institution. The other children said he had been adopted half a year ago.
From a reporter's perspective, this was good material. Charlie saw his older brother's appreciative gaze. He found the director to inquire about the situation of the child named Pluto.
Charlie: That adoptive family, do they know about his past situation?
Director: Well... Pluto is a very smart child. When he knew someone was coming to adopt him, he behaved very well.
Director: Regardless, as the institution, we still hope that all the children can find a good home.
Director: After all, a child's growth is greatly related to their environment.
The director's expression was a little troubled. Charlie nodded understandingly and obtained the address of the family who adopted Pluto.
-
When he arrived at their house, he almost didn't recognize the child.
Unlike the thin boy with fierce eyes in the photo, he had become stronger, but also gentler and well-behaved.
Charlie subtly explained his intention to the parents and was given a chance to speak with the child alone.
When he mentioned the names of the children from the welfare institution, Pluto defensively stood up.
Charlie put down the pen in his hand and tried to speak in a gentle tone.
Charlie: I don't have any ill intentions. I just want to understand the details of those incidents with you.
Charlie: If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay too.
But Pluto's eyes turned red, and he lowered his head deeply, beginning to sob.
Pluto: I'm sorry... All those things were my fault. I truly regret it.
He covered his face and sobbed.
Pluto: My parents still don't know about those things. They always thought I was a well-behaved child.
Pluto: Will this research report be released to the public in the end?
Charlie: We will anonymize the information.
Pluto: But they'll guess... Can you let me go? Can you stop asking about the past?
Pluto: People always have a chance to change, right? Please give me a chance. I won't do it again.
He was crying hysterically, unable to catch his breath. Charlie awkwardly helped pull out tissues for him and finally ended the interview hastily after only asking a few harmless questions.
Before he left, Pluto's adoptive parents quietly stopped him outside the door.
Adoptive father: When the report is finished, can you give us a copy?
Adoptive father: He's our child. We want to understand our child's past experiences, but every time we ask, he refuses to talk about it.
Charlie: ...Please wait for notification.
He could only say that, then lower his head to avoid their gaze.
-
By the time he left, it was already dark. The notebook with the hastily written report was clutched in his hand.
The moonlight on the street stretched his shadow long. That familiar figure appeared beside him again.
Charlie: I knew it. You'd come along this time.
His older brother, just like before, gave him a slightly indulgent smile.
??: When you want to talk to me, I'm always here.
??: What are you planning to do with this report?
Charlie: I just feel that they are living very happily now. What about you?
??: I would tell the truth.
Charlie: A journalist only states facts. That's their duty. You must want to say that.
Charlie smiled. His older brother walked beside him, also smiling. Then his tone became serious again.
??: I know this won't convince you.
??: But there's one more thing.
??: Whether that child's personality has truly changed, or if this is just his performance, it's very difficult for us to judge.
??: Ultimately, it's very hard for people to change.
Charlie suddenly stopped walking and turned back.
Charlie: It's very hard for people to change?
His older brother also stopped, looking at him with a hint of confusion, as if this sentence was supposed to be a universally accepted truth.
??: Yes, why—
Charlie: It's very hard for people to change.
He repeated it again, feeling his face getting warm.
He didn't know what was wrong with him. This was just something said casually, an unintentional remark, yet it seemed to have broken some boundary. Strange things swelled in his veins, his blood flowing wildly and irregularly.
??: Jiujiu, are you okay?
His older brother called his nickname worriedly, reaching out as if to grab him.
But he instinctively took a step back, looking at his older brother's face being melted by the moonlight from the edges. When he was five, he had seen his older brother's entire life on the windowsill.
Now, on this blurred face, he saw his own entire life.
Avocados he would never eat again, the lonely owl that died alone, the yellowed and faded adventure, the countless compromises...
How could it be that it's very hard for people to change? If it's very hard for people to change—
Charlie: Then what am I? Aren't I changing?
The moment the question left his mouth, his heart felt empty. He wished it were true, but no one knew better than him that this was just a lie. Was he changing? Yes, he was. Wasn't he changing? No, he wasn't.
Absurdity split him into two parts. One part was like melting ice, the other was like boiling lava.
His older brother took a step forward. Charlie stared back numbly.
??: I didn't say that. I've always thought you've done very well, much better than me.
??: So this time, you need to consider carefully—
Charlie: But right now, I don't want to do so well.
He interrupted his older brother for the first time, his voice like solid ice.
There was no venting, no roaring. He no longer looked at his older brother's face, shaking him off from a distance.
-
The smell of baking from the street corner, the showcases of seasonal fashion, the lively festival celebrations—all were like inconspicuous billboards, left behind by him.
The shadows of the trees swayed above his head like seaweed. He ran faster and faster, crashing into a gathering of teenagers on the street.
The teenagers, dressed like hipsters, thought Charlie was there to cause trouble and shoved him. He stumbled, showing no intention of fighting back.
Rebellious Teenager A: Hey, man, feeling down? Have a bottle.
Charlie looked at the bottle of cheap golden beer and opened it. He never drank alcohol. The well-behaved Charlie never drank alcohol.
But he was like a drifting soul, floating very high, watching his body act on its own.
Rebellious Teenager A: Alright! Is ten seconds enough for you?
Charlie: Three seconds is enough.
His esophagus and a drainpipe seemed no different. Foam and pungent liquid washed away all conflicting emotions. His stomach churned up and down, and a wave of heat rushed to the top of his head.
The people around applauded.
Rebellious Teenager A: Come on, let's dance together.
Someone put on some wild rock music. Everyone started swaying to the rhythm. Charlie lost himself completely in the dance floor.
He swayed with the music, forcefully shaking off all unhappiness.
Charlie: The sound is too low! I can't hear! Turn it up!
He slipped into a low-cost fervor. This fervor was the sense of reality he desperately needed.
Tipsy, swaying, happy, free—these were feelings he had hardly ever experienced, or perhaps feelings he had long forgotten.
Until he noticed his hands were trembling.
And a doctor's hands cannot tremble.
-
He ran out of the street in a panic, running to a very, very distant corner, so far that he could no longer hear any music.
He saw dozens of missed calls from his father on his phone. This was the person closest to him in the world, and this person was looking for him.
He couldn't wait to call back. All the surging emotions were screaming for a release point. After a short series of beeps, the call connected.
Zha Zhao Peng: Charlie, where are you? Why aren't you answering the phone?
Charlie: I'm at...
He stopped blankly. A broken road sign hung crookedly there. Spots of light, shadows, pointed streetlights—they twisted and blurred in his pupils, dissolving into the shimmering light of a river.
That shining river rose above his chest. The gurgling sound was mixed with slow breathing.
Charlie: I don't know.
He grabbed his collar, gasping for breath.
Charlie: But I... I don't I can become Charlie.
On the other end of the distorted signal, his father's voice disappeared for a moment.
Zha Zhao Peng: Charlie, people just think wildly when they're in a bad mood.
Zha Zhao Peng: You're only sixteen. There's nothing for you to worry about. Come home early. I'll have Jixiu save—
He didn't want to listen anymore. The voice on the phone was like a suddenly broken wing, spiraling downwards.
The river finally covered his head. The currents at the bottom of the water pulled at his arms, turning into slow motion.
His silent phone fell to the ground. His last cry for help was also lost.
Dense ripples spread outwards from the center of the vortex, finally merging into the silent surface of the water.
Splash—Splash—All the noisy voices were finally at rest.
-
He returned to the street where he had lost control. Those people didn't care about his previous departure and continued pulling him into their wild dancing on the street.
At a fruit stand on the side of the road, he took a bite of an avocado. He actually really liked this smooth and fragrant taste, but because his brother was allergic, he hadn't eaten it in over ten years.
He sang cheerful songs on the street and politely kissed an old lady who gave him a rose.
He threw a bucket of paint from a painter onto the wall and then painted the entire wall with avant-garde graffiti.
In fact, to maintain being "perfect," he had almost given up everything that teenagers his age enjoyed.
Finally, it was raining heavily outside, and he was completely drenched.
The torn report dissolved into a dirty ink stain, its final traces washed away by the rain.
He was panting, exhausted, and collapsed by the side of the road.
Rain beat down on his head, chest, and legs. He felt happy and free, tired and real, as if some pent-up emotions had been drained away.
He suddenly felt certain. Tomorrow, tomorrow he would definitely be able to become Charlie again.
-
Self-Healing Therapy Part 1
Letting go into irrational revelry, immersing himself in the colors and sounds, music and laughter could cover up everything. Only then could Charlie temporarily block out the voices in his mind.
He thought he had found a prescription that could cure himself.
During the day, he was the rational and calm Charlie. At night, he would rush to one chaotic party after another, whether on the streets or outdoors.
But he no longer drank alcohol. Drinking made his hands tremble. For some reason, he didn't like the feeling of his hands shaking.
But he soon discovered that this kind of life didn't make him feel much better.
Once the tide of enthusiasm receded, and the surroundings fell quiet, leaving only him alone, his older brother's voice and the suppressed emotions would return with full force.
They were worse than before, and even more painful.
And after Mark died, he started experiencing more symptoms: worsening headaches, a frequent feeling of pressure in his abdomen, and his body felt heavy and unbearable.
Charlie: Should I give up?
Looking at the person in the mirror, he asked himself. When he spoke this sentence, he found that even saying the words "give up" made him feel light and hollow.
But no longer playing the role of his older brother meant breaking his promise. He wasn't that kind of person.
His surroundings became more chaotic than before. Many voices surrounded him: the music of the revelry, the noisy streets, and his older brother's voice.
They pierced sharply into his brain, crashing everywhere in his body. There was not a moment of peace.
Finally, even his father noticed something was wrong with him.
His father came to his room and asked him many everyday questions. Just as he was feeling a worsening headache and unbearable discomfort and wanted to interrupt, the other person suddenly sighed.
Zha Zhao Peng: I found someone to contact the best psychiatrist in Ruìqìní for you. Go talk to them, Charlie.
Under the dim light, his father's worry was unconcealed. His father had aged, and there were lines on his forehead. Charlie was silent for a long time, then finally nodded.
He thought that this kind of farce should also stop.
-
He walked into that consulting room. After three hours of conversation, the doctor couldn't help him.
Or rather, the doctor tried her best to find the root of the problem, but Charlie still held onto his promise about the secret.
But that, precisely, was the location of the real illness.
Dozens of pages of examination reports were filled with dense and complex medical terms. The doctor signed it and handed it over along with a prescription.
Psychiatrist: I think it might be because you are about to go to medical school.
Psychiatrist: The anxiety about unfamiliar environments and the future, combined with your inherently overly suppressed personality, has led to increased anxiety.
Psychiatrist: To attempt to escape the predicament of self-anxiety, the body uses physical symptoms to replace the inner unpleasant feelings.
Psychiatrist: Thereby suppressing the subconscious.
.....
An inherently overly suppressed personality. Suppression of the subconscious. Whatever the doctor said after that, Charlie didn't hear. He lowered his eyes and ultimately still said nothing.
-
After picking up a bag of medication and walking out of the hospital, Charlie didn't hesitate to throw them away when he passed a trash can.
Many complex drug names were written on the stained medicine box. He had memorized them all. They were nothing more than calming and sedating effects, accompanied by side effects like palpitations, drowsiness, memory loss, and even dependency.
Charlie: It's probably better to keep my brain for other uses.
He turned to leave, but just then, he heard a soft chuckle from behind him.
???: A correct choice.
He turned around and saw a teenager also carrying a hospital plastic bag. He wore an unbuttoned, faded denim jacket, his expression slightly tired, yet seeming to carry a hint of excitement.
Jacob: My name is Jacob. You're right, these medicines won't cure our illness.
Jacob: But there's a method, a place that can.
He blinked. This slightly playful action made him seem alive.
Charlie smiled understandingly, walked over to Jacob, and bumped shoulders with him using the greeting method he had learned on the street.
Charlie: I'm Charlie. Nice to meet you.
-
They quickly became friends. Jacob also, as promised, took Charlie to the place he said could cure their illness.
The abandoned factory was near a nearly dry river. Natural light shone in from the few existing windows. Dust stirred up by the exhaust fan danced lightly in the light.
"Psychological Trauma Support Group" was written on a makeshift blackboard with white chalk. About ten young people sat on the floor shoulder to shoulder, gathered in a circle, discussing a topic animatedly.
Jacob clapped his hands, and the discussion immediately quieted down. Everyone's gaze turned towards the door.
Jacob: Everyone, this is our new friend, Charlie.
Jacob: Charlie, this is the meeting place for the Psychological Trauma Support Group that I started.
Jacob: Come, let's get to know each other.
The teenagers stood up one after another, their expressions either timid or inquisitive, but all making an effort to show a friendly smile towards Charlie. Jacob pulled him around, introducing them one by one.
Jacob: This is Cain. He has a tumor in his brain. It's late stage.
Cain was a short boy wearing a hat. He smiled upon hearing this.
Cain: Hi, Charlie. But I've given up chemotherapy. You know, it's too painful.
Jacob: This is Andy. He suffered long-term school bullying from both classmates and teachers.
Jacob: He is now afraid of pointer sticks, chalk, and sharp objects like the tips of ballpoint pens.
Jacob: He suffers from severe PTSD.
Andy was the heaviest person there. A look of timidity and cowardice showed on his round face, yet he tried very hard to appear cheerful.
Andy: But I plucked up the courage to take a leave of absence from school a while ago! I believe everything will slowly get better.
Jacob: Oh, right, this is Carly. She was attacked by a stranger... and later broke up with her boyfriend.
Jacob: Speaking of which, Charlie, just like you, she also likes to throw the medicine she's prescribed directly into the trash can.
Carly, who was mentioned, wore a leather jacket, her very short hair almost showing her scalp. A tattoo of Anubis was on her right arm. She shrugged indifferently.
Carly: After all, garbage should stay where it belongs. Everyone is responsible for protecting the environment, aren't they?
Everyone laughed. Carefree laughter echoed through the factory.
Jacob turned to Charlie, giving him a smug look that said, "See? I told you so." The space, which should have been dim, seemed to be filled with warm sunlight.
Charlie stood in the sunlight, feeling a warmth on his face that was long gone, like a winter fireplace.
Jacob: Charlie, here, we are all people like you.
Time passed, and Charlie gradually blended in among the members of the support group. Everyone here had different misfortunes, trapped in distress from the past and even the present.
In the support group, they each shared their traumas, unabashedly exposing the mud beneath their wounds.
Only Charlie remained silent. Everyone saw his struggle but still chose to accept him. They found solace in each other's warmth.
Being sick and injured became a perfectly normal thing. They always used jokes, teasing, and self-deprecation to overcome the fear in their hearts, as a form of resistance against the pain that couldn't be eliminated.
Unlike drinking poison to quench thirst through revelry, this kind of ease brought Charlie peace. He thought, maybe next time, he could overcome the obstacle and say something.
But next time, when he came to the support group, he found that everyone was unusually silent.
Charlie: What's wrong? Why is everyone so serious today?
Still no response. He had a vague sense of unease. He quickly scanned the room and only after confirming everyone was present did he slightly relax. So he decided to liven up the atmosphere.
Charlie: Today, are we trying a different therapy?
Charlie: Exposure therapy?
Charlie: Making the patient directly face the most terrifying, most anxiety-inducing situation, like what those doctors or superiors who are truly at their wit's end do.
Charlie: But for me, it doesn't seem to have much effect. After all, I've been through too much.
Usually, everyone would smile wryly in understanding. But now, everyone's faces were tense. No one laughed.
Charlie looked at Jacob, perplexed, and found that his expression was also very serious, with a hint of anger in his eyes.
Jacob: Charlie, are you hiding something from us?
Charlie: What is it?
Jacob: You're Zha Zhao Peng's son, aren't you? The extremely wealthy pharmaceutical magnate.
Charlie was stunned. He seemed to understand something and licked his dry lips.
Charlie: He is indeed my father, but I...
Jacob: But we're all ordinary people.
The people in the factory looked at Charlie.
As if he were a giant worm.
Jacob: I don't understand. Someone like you, who's lived a privileged life, pampered and well-fed, should clearly have the fewest worries.
Jacob: Why are you pretending to be sick? Why are you sneaking into our support group?
Jacob: Is this some rich kid looking for fun?
Jacob: So, the reason you've always refused to talk about yourself is because you have nothing to talk about at all.
Jacob: And therefore, you can't empathize with us at all, can you?
Jacob's questions were relentless. People's faces gradually became colored with indignation and jealousy.
He felt all the blood in his body rushing to his head. Confusion, shame, grievance. It felt like something was blocking his throat. But soon, he calmed down.
Charlie: I'm not allowed to have worries, is that right?
Jacob: At least compared to us, your life has been far too smooth, hasn't it?
Jacob's gaze was as strange as ice. He felt the blood all around him turn cold.
Jacob: We'll take a vote to decide whether you can stay or not.
No one objected to this proposal. They spontaneously carried out this silent trial, writing down their decision on paper.
Some didn't even lift their heads, scribbling it down and folding it quickly. Some hesitated for a long time, looking at him repeatedly.
The result came out quickly.
Jacob: Eight to three. You can't stay here anymore.
Charlie pursed his lips. He looked at the dilapidated but clean factory before him. Sunlight shone in from the windows above. His companions sat around the blackboard. Everything was so familiar.
A few people avoided his gaze, their eyes flickering. Cain looked at him worriedly. Carly seemed like she wanted to say something, but the pale-faced Andy pulled at the corner of her sleeve from behind.
He withdrew his gaze and nodded softly, as if gently putting down something in the corner of his heart.
Charlie: I don't agree with your opinion, but I understand how you feel. Goodbye.
He left without looking back, leaving this place where he had just found a sense of belonging.
When he reached the entrance, he looked up at the sky. The bright blue stretched to the infinite distance. The weather today was as clear and bright as the day he first came here.
He let out a breath. Just as he stepped out the main door not far, a series of hurried footsteps came from behind him.
Andy: Charlie---!
Carly: Why are you walking so fast! Wait for us!
Cain: You guys run slower, at least take care of a late-stage tumor patient's fragile body...
Charlie turned around in surprise. Carly was in the lead, with Andy and Cain running behind her towards him. They opened their arms and gave him a big hug.
He was hit by the strength of the three of them and staggered back several steps.
Carly: I've been putting up with them for a long time. Especially Jacob.
Cain: Me too. How can they just dismiss your worries?
The three complained about Jacob and his heartlessness. They linked arms with Charlie and walked forward, the journey filled with laughter.
They walked for a long time, until the factory was out of sight. Then they fell silent again. A confused look flickered in his companions' eyes. Charlie understood that from the moment they chased after him, they couldn't go back either.
A bold idea formed in his mind, along with a longing full of courage, urging him on.
A familiar voice told him not to be so impulsive, not to speak this idea, but he wasn't going to listen this time either.
Charlie: If the purpose of the support group is healing, then why don't we heal ourselves?
Andy: How do we heal ourselves?
Charlie: It's a kind of "exposure therapy."
Carly made a sound of confusion. Cain tilted his head. Andy looked like he wanted to cheer but didn't know what to cheer for.
Charlie: How about it? Want to go on a road adventure with me? The destination is the places that have hurt us.
Charlie: Whichever scoundrel tied the knot, we'll go find that scoundrel and untie it.
They looked at each other. No one knows who chuckled first, and then the four of them burst into laughter together.
Charlie: Wait for me here for a moment.
In a little while, accompanied by the low roar of an engine, Charlie drove a dark grey supercar from the parking lot far from the factory. He rolled down the window and waved at them.
They were extremely surprised. Looking at the supercar that was completely out of place, Cain couldn't help but cough a few times.
Cain: Okay, I'm starting to understand why Jacob didn't want you to stay in the support group.
Charlie held the steering wheel with one hand, his lips curved into a smile, his gaze as flamboyant as the large area of bright yellow interior.
Charlie: As long as it can get us on the road, that's all that matters. Get in.
The seats were all filled. Charlie stepped on the gas. With a roaring engine sound, the supercar shot out like an arrow released from a bow, charging towards the horizon.
-
Self-Healing Therapy Part 2
The first stop on this road adventure was Andy's school.
The teacher who had more than once publicly humiliated Andy, subjected him to corporal punishment, and left him plagued by psychological shadows to this day was still teaching there.
They found this "teacher" in the restroom, blocked the door, and swaggered away as he hammered on it in terror, just as he had done to Andy before.
In the principal's office, Andy took out the evidence he had never had the courage to submit and slapped it onto the principal's desk. He didn't know what to say, so Charlie taught him a few tricks for stating his case and making veiled threats.
Next, they went to Carly's hometown. The perpetrator was already in prison, leaving only the man who had verbally abused and beaten her relentlessly when she needed support the most. They found him, swarmed him, and took him to the riverside, far from people.
Carly herself beat him up. At first, she didn't know how to strike, so Charlie demonstrated for her, telling her not to stop, no matter how much the other person knelt and begged for mercy, until she was satisfied.
The last stop was the snow mountain Cain had always wanted to visit.
He had no one to hate; if he had to blame someone, it was the world and fate. So, he wanted to step on the world at least once. "We'll carry you, even on our backs," his companions promised Cain.
The roadside by the highway at dusk was burning with fiery red afterglow. The wind rushed into the open car windows. Having vented their anger and unwillingness, they sang loudly, exhilarated and joyful, shaking off all restraints.
Cain opened the car door. He seemed to want to get out and take a walk but couldn't stand steadily and fell directly to the ground, convulsing violently and vomiting heavily at the same time, his thin chest heaving drastically.
Charlie: Cain!
The accident happened in an instant. Charlie was the first to react. He rushed down, and Carly and Andy followed.
Charlie knelt beside the fallen Cain, observing his condition. His face was pale, his eyeballs were white. Charlie waved his hand in front of his eyes, but there was no reaction.
Charlie quickly recalled his textbook knowledge. Late-stage brain tumor, increased intracranial pressure, compressing and stimulating the meninges, causing headache, nausea, vomiting, blurred vision...
Charlie: When a patient is vomiting, be careful of the risk of vomit blocking the airway and causing death by suffocation...
There was no time to hesitate. He turned Cain's head to the side and, his hand trembling, forcefully opened his mouth. There was obvious filth blocking his airway in his throat.
Charlie: Carly! Get the chopsticks from the bag!
Charlie: Call for emergency help!
Andy called the emergency number while crying. Carly quickly took out the chopsticks and handed them to Charlie.
Charlie took the chopsticks, forcing his right hand to stop trembling, and desperately controlling the force to gently press down on the base of Cain's tongue.
Cain's body trembled violently, and he threw up the vomit in his throat. His gaze was no longer so rigid, and he regained some consciousness.
Charlie: Cain? Cain, how are you feeling? The doctor will be here soon. Hold on.
Cain barely managed a smile, like he usually did.
Cain: It's... it's too late, Charlie...
Cain: Thank you. I know you did your best. You will become a very good doctor.
Seeing Charlie's stunned expression, Cain coughed weakly a few times, revealing a slightly smug expression.
Cain: After all, while everyone else was numbing themselves with alcohol, only you refused to drink.
Cain: I asked you, and you said alcohol makes a surgeon's hands tremble...
Those were words he had said when he was in the most pain, when his memory was the most blurry, words even he didn't remember. He only knew that the person in front of him might be dying. Cain raised a few fingers and grabbed Charlie's hand.
Cain: So, don't blame yourself, Charlie... Not for bringing us out, either.
Cain: Although sometimes everyone might think in extremes, thinking that this didn't change our lives at all...
Cain: But actually, everyone changed...
Cain: It's just that they haven't realized it yet. So, Charlie, don't blame yourself, and thank you...
Cain seemed to see right through him, seeing through the voice in his mind that repeatedly reminded him what use his actions had, that they couldn't save others' lives, much less save others' lives.
He held Cain's hand and cried out silently. The siren of an ambulance sounded in the distance. Carly stumbled, waving her hand forcefully.
A moment later, Cain was put into the ambulance by the medical staff. Charlie pulled the distraught Carly and Andy up from the ground and followed them.
All the way there, he held all his money in his arms, watching the doctors' hands performing emergency procedures, and then looking at his own hands.
The lights in the emergency room stayed on all night. Cain's parents were no longer alive, so Charlie notified his distant relatives.
At dawn, Cain finally passed out of danger. His relatives were by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up from his coma. Carly and Andy stood outside the door, looking tired and lost.
Carly: Should we go home? After all, Cain...
Charlie looked into the distance. White snow could be seen on the mountaintops on the horizon. That snow mountain from the dream was not far away. Maybe Cain could go there by himself in the future, maybe not anymore, but Charlie didn't want to break his promise.
Charlie: You two go.
Andy was stunned for a moment, then slapped him hard on the back, his face showing nothing but disapproval.
Andy: What are you talking about! You brought us all the way here, and now you're trying to send us home?
Andy: I'm not going back.
Carly reacted. By her hand were Cain's clothes that had been changed out of. Inside was a hat that was always with him.
Every adventure has an end point, but theirs shouldn't be here, because someone's wish hasn't been fulfilled yet.
They gave the money to the hospital for Cain's treatment, and the three of them returned to the place where Cain had collapsed and drove off.
-
The last stretch of the journey, also the final part of the adventure, Carly and Andy discussed their lives after returning, while Charlie drove in silence, not saying a word.
The mountain was right there. Upon reaching the foot of the mountain, Charlie took his backpack. They had agreed that each person would leave something significant to them on the snow mountain.
Halfway up the mountain, Carly and Andy found it difficult to continue. Charlie told them to rest at a local campsite while he continued climbing alone.
He didn't know how long he climbed upwards, far enough that the sea of clouds swallowed the city below. Charlie felt himself getting closer and closer to the sun, and closer and closer to heaven. Finally, he reached the mountaintop.
The bright sun shone on the vast, undulating glacier. The boundless sea of snow merged with the clouds. Around him, there was no other higher existence besides the sky.
Charlie bent down and placed Cain's hat on a bare rock.
Charlie: Cain, look, we made it to the top of the snow mountain.
Charlie: Ha... I have to tell you, it's really cold here. If you were here, you'd definitely be sneezing uncontrollably.
Charlie: But you were right about one thing: the sun is really big and bright here, but it's still very cold.
The strong wind blowing from the mountaintop stirred up the accumulated snow on the ground. A hazy snow mist suddenly engulfed everything.
In the sound of wind and snow, he heard a faint and mournful bird cry.
He didn't know if it was his imagination, but he still followed the sound. It was an eagle with an injured wing, hiding behind a large rock.
It looked in very poor condition and couldn't even hide. It just stared at him fiercely, futilely fluttering some snowflakes. It might not even survive the night.
Charlie was silent for a long time. He reached into the bottom layer of his backpack and took out a neatly packed set of surgical instruments.
This was something he had carried with him wherever he went, almost becoming an inseparable instinct. He had originally intended to leave them on the snow mountain like this.
He spread out the cloth, gently grabbed the eagle's legs. The eagle struggled for a moment, then quieted down.
He disinfected the eagle's wing, stopped the bleeding, and even performed a small fracture reduction surgery. With the instruments fixing it, the injured wing could also flutter in small arcs.
He looked at the eagle awkwardly flapping its wings in the wind and snow, then lowered his head to look at the silver scalpel in his hand.
He recalled a certain period of time, when he could still fully enjoy his favorite food, still run wild outside, and play with birds.
That was a very happy time, but how similar was that happiness to what he felt at the moment he held the scalpel?
The howling mountain wind made his heart feel open and clear. Everything had nowhere to hide.
The eagle flapped its wings and hopped over to him, rubbing against his calf. He squatted down, and a desire to speak stirred in his chest.
He opened his mouth. His throat seemed to convulse. After a while, he finally uttered the first word. Perhaps this was the only chance he would have to say everything out loud, but it was enough.
He talked about that mountain fire, about the jealousy that was stuck in his heart, about the fragmented family, about the little hero who held the family together, about this endless performance...
His hardship, his grievances, his unspeakable secrets, but also the joy and excitement he had gained from it.
By the end, his voice was barely perceptible, choked with sobs.
Charlie: Later, I found out that I seem to be forever unable to become a hero like him.
Charlie: But, I genuinely want to be a doctor.
Charlie: This isn't his dream; this is my dream.
Charlie: This is my dream.
He kept repeating it in the place closest to the sky, emphasizing it to no one in particular. The wind and snow beat against his face, cold and indistinguishable from tears or snowflakes.
No one answered him. The world was silent. Only the sound of the wind, only the sound of the snow. The voice that had always accompanied him was gone too.
But he felt his own voice, his own life flowing out with his blood, finally returning to his body, turning into the strength that could continue to support him.
In this warmth, he thought, perhaps the root of his illness had not yet been removed, but at this moment, he was close to being healed.
The injured eagle rode the wind, gliding towards the snowy slope. After taking one last look at the sun, Charlie turned and descended the mountain.
He took the scalpel with him. Therefore, on the vast snowy ground, besides the hat, only a figure drawn with a branch was left behind.
A small boy smiled in the snow.
He couldn't distinguish whose smile it was, but he no longer cared.
-
Love's First Steps Part 1
Charlie returned to his hometown.
He became a doctor in the Burns Department of the City's First People's Hospital. Although insomnia still plagued him, the busyness and exhaustion significantly improved his symptoms.
Before this, he rarely thought about having a hometown, just as he always tried his best to erase the memories from before he was five years old from his mind.
But that girl had fled to this place, so he had no other choice.
How to get along with a runaway fiancée. This was a situation he had never encountered on his hero's path, a hurdle he had never crossed. He felt unfamiliar with it but wasn't troubled.
As long as people could see his ubiquitous shining points, no one wouldn't be captivated by him.
But the girl didn't seem to think so. All his humor, wit, and wealth stumbled here. Even without fully understanding why, he could see her stance—she didn't want any more entanglement.
Charlie: How could anyone dislike such a perfect man?
He asked himself, looking in the mirror. The him in the mirror had an unfamiliar expression that he himself found novel.
Charlie learned from several "guides to building good feelings" online and discovered that in adventure games, the most effective way to raise a teammate's favorability to the lover stage was to give gifts.
And, he absolutely must not forget to include blessings.
So he searched for all the roses within a thirty-kilometer radius and collected all sorts of blessings, delivering them to the girl's company building along with himself.
Charlie: Here's a "Pink Heartbeat" for you. Accept it, and you'll be the happiest person in the world.
Charlie: Thirty million red roses, wishing you ten million kinds of happiness, ten million kinds of joy, and ten million times you'll think of me.
Charlie: Beep, beep, beep—Oh, my fiancée, did you hear this wonderful honking sound?
Charlie: This sound is for you, and these white roses are also blooming for you!
The words weren't quite to his taste, but he recited them quite smoothly. He also didn't forget to include a gentle and firm smile at the end.
It was just a pity that the girl didn't accept the roses, but she turned around and gave him a book of poetry, which felt a bit like she wanted to challenge him.
It seems the blessings were somewhat useful, but the roses didn't work.
After much deliberation and consulting many relationship experts among his friends at the bar, he came to a new conclusion: the type of gift was also very important, and the rarer the gift, the better the effect.
Jixiu didn't have much dating experience, but he was well-informed. So Charlie called Jixiu over as a temporary consultant.
Charlie: Uncle Ji, do you know of anything rare that would be suitable as a gift?
Uncle Ji: Young Master, this...
Charlie: The rarer, the better.
Uncle Ji: If you're looking for something rare, perhaps the auction house would have something you want.
Charlie opened the auction house website. The beautiful Heart of Violet caught his attention.
Imagining the girl's surprised expression, he rubbed his chin and nodded in satisfaction.
Charlie: Uncle Ji, call me when the auction is about to start, so I can go online.
Uncle Ji: Yes, Young Master.
Of course, Young Master Zha didn't forget his main profession. One second he was still reading the latest cutting-edge medical papers, the next—
Uncle Ji: Young Master Zha, the auction has begun.
Charlie nodded, put down his e-reader, and took the phone from Uncle Ji.
Auctioneer: Number 724 once, Number 724 twice, Number 724 three times... Sold!
-
The expensive jewel traveled across the ocean into his hands. The next day, he stood in front of the girl's company.
The girl was silent for a moment, then still returned his good intentions.
Charlie didn't mind, because the girl's expression of momentary amazement followed by a headache when she saw the jewel was very amusing to him. On the way home, he casually gave the gem to a little girl who was crying because her balloon had floated away.
Jewelry didn't work, so he tried rare ingredients. Some ingredients were difficult to preserve. No matter how express the delivery was, they spoiled on the way, doing more harm than good.
But this time, when he actually messed up, the girl proactively sent him a text message.
You (SMS): I appreciate your kind intentions... But let's not waste these precious ingredients.
Looking at the words "appreciate your intentions" in the twenty-two-character message, Charlie smiled with pleasure.
Charlie: My fiancée said she accepted my intentions. Looks like there's some progress.
The ingredients the girl didn't accept, he tried cooking according to his own ideas. Although it turned out that even the most precious things are hard to eat when burnt to a crisp, he was very satisfied.
Charlie was in high spirits. He opened a website and updated a new chapter of his novel.
That's right, while putting things into practice, reviewing and summarizing were also very important. To facilitate review, Charlie simply wrote a romance novel based on himself and the girl.
After accumulating a certain number of chapters, he printed them out and gave them to Uncle Ji to read.
Charlie: Uncle Ji, what do you think of this novel?
Uncle Ji: It's very concise and easy to understand. The language is also accurate and refined.
Charlie: Not that. I mean, do you think the heroine in this novel likes the hero?
Uncle Ji: I'm sorry, Young Master, I can't say for sure.
Charlie was a little disappointed.
Uncle Ji: However, perhaps the heroine in this novel is based on Miss Y/N?
Charlie became a little more excited, looking at Uncle Ji reservedly.
Charlie: Exactly! So, how did you figure that out?
Uncle Ji: I'm sorry, I didn't actually figure it out. I just felt like the book might be written by you, so I took a guess.
Charlie thought carefully for a moment. Although the characterization wasn't successful, the function of recording, reviewing, and summarizing was still there. So, the novel continued to be serialized.
Later, he saw a romantic airship proposal activity online, so he also found someone to customize an airship.
The entire airship was black and gold, with a mane-like fringe like a lion's. It was also decorated with cartoon avatars of him and the girl, all part of his meticulous design.
Although the weather forecast said there would be a typhoon today, Charlie had already notified the girl, so, they had to fly today, typhoon or not.
-
Just as the airship was approaching the Wan Zhen Building, the typhoon arrived as scheduled. A strong wind blew, and the rain poured down.
Before the dark clouds blocked his view, Charlie called the girl.
Charlie: Y/N, go to the office window and look up.
As soon as he finished speaking, the Wan Zhen Building in front of Charlie disappeared into a mist. Conversely, looking from the building, the airship was also completely blocked by the dark clouds.
The heavy rain intensified. Charlie had no choice but to turn back.
Charlie: Y/N, don't worry about me. When the weather clears up, I'll definitely come back.
-
The path of courtship is always full of twists and turns, but Charlie reveled in it.
During this period, his insomnia lessened. Every night, he would fall asleep with a smile on his lips, anticipating the girl's reaction next time.
If there was no reaction, that was okay too.
He could still find happiness in the process.
-
One evening, Charlie had just come out of surgery when he was caught by Lao He.
Dr. He: Let's go. I'm treating tonight. Let's go eat together.
Charlie: Doctor He, who is always diligently sticking to the two-point-one-line routine of the hospital and home, actually has the mood to invite me to dinner?
Dr. He: Don't even mention it. The one at home is always complaining. Last night, she completely blew up.
Charlie: What did Auntie He say?
Dr. He: Just questions like "Guess what day tomorrow is"? Sigh, I wasn't this nervous even when trying to save a patient.
Charlie: Today isn't Singles' Day, nor Valentine's Day, nor White Day... So the answer is?
Dr. He: Our fortieth wedding anniversary.
Charlie: Lao He, you deserve to be scolded.
Dr. He: So, I have to make a big gesture today to atone.
Charlie followed Lao He to a hotel banquet hall. The decorations weren't particularly luxurious, but it was filled with Auntie He's favorite red color. It looked less like a banquet and more like a wedding venue.
Dr. He: Welcome, dear friends and relatives, to the banquet celebrating my and my wife's fortieth wedding anniversary.
Dr. He: I, Lao He, am not someone who knows how to say pretty words.
Dr. He: But after all these years, I sincerely feel that it has been hard on her to be my wife.
Dr. He: Whenever I was too busy with surgery to eat, she would always bring me homemade meals.
Dr. He: She also kept me in line, making sure I ate it in front of her, otherwise she would tap my forehead.
Dr. He: When I had emergency surgery late at night, no matter how late it was, she would always leave me a bowl of hot soup.
Dr. He: Every time I came home and drank this bowl of soup, I wouldn't be tired at all. I could even go back to the hospital and do three more surgeries.
Dr. He: I might be considered a competent doctor, but I'm truly not a competent husband.
Dr. He: Thank you for your tolerance over these forty years. Thank you.
Auntie He and the guests present were very moved.
Charlie, also moved, took it to heart.
He decided to also arrange a celebration for the forty-ninth day since meeting the girl.
-
Sitting in front of his computer, he wanted to write a heartfelt speech like Lao He, but he got stuck at the beginning.
The cursor kept flashing and flashing. Charlie, who could usually write papers fluently and voluminously, felt like nothing he wrote was right.
Actually, he could have easily copied another speech, but this time, for some reason, he instinctively didn't want to and wasn't willing to do that.
He finally revised and deleted until it was, by his standards, not perfect, but romantic enough. Next, he had to put effort into the plan for the anniversary celebration.
After finishing the plan, just in case, Charlie decided to find someone to test it out first to ensure the day's flow would be smooth.
-
The restaurant was already meticulously decorated. This was how he thought the girl would like it after countless deliberations: romantic candlelight, elegant violin music, with a view of the riverside nightscape stretching out before them.
And the test subject, naturally, was Lao He, who had just held an anniversary banquet himself.
Charlie: Lao He, now you are my fiancée, and I am me.
With a "snap" of his fingers, the lights in the restaurant completely went out, leaving only the hazy one by the window.
Charlie pulled out a chair for the "girl" and, after the "girl" sat down, leaned down gently.
Charlie: Fiancée, stop staring at me. I'm afraid you'll faint in my deep eyes.
Dr. He: Are you always so... exaggerated... in front of that young lady?
Charlie hummed in response. Actually, he didn't have to act this way, but this kind of flamboyance felt like unlocking a brand new yet familiar version of himself, making him unable to give it up.
Charlie: This is my unique personal style.
Charlie: Bring out the dishes.
Immediately, a variety of dishes were placed on the table.
Charlie: These are all dishes I had the kitchen specially prepare according to your taste. And after the meal, there's your favorite dessert.
Dr. He: Is your information accurate?
Charlie: Of course it's accurate. Part of it I carefully observed and summarized when I went out with her.
Charlie: Part of it is reliable information I got from her friends whom I bribed.
Charlie: A considerable part is also clues I found when I ran into her in various places.
Dr. He: Ran into her? I think you deliberately engineered those encounters.
Dr. He: And observation, summarization, information, clues... Instead of dating, I think you're playing some kind of detective game.
Dr. He: But overall, you're quite dedicated.
Charlie: Don't be so quick with the praise. The climax of this celebration banquet hasn't started yet.
Another snap of his fingers. A spotlight shone on Charlie. He took a piece of paper from his chest pocket.
Charlie: Y/N, today is the forty-ninth day anniversary of us meeting.
Charlie: The scenery I've seen with you is more beautiful than any corner of this earth.
Charlie: And you, you are the source that brings all these beautiful memories.
Charlie: I'm thankful for meeting you.
A very smooth confession. After Charlie finished reading, he looked at Lao He, showing a smug smile.
Charlie: How was the writing? It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say it deserves the Guangqi Love Letter Literary Award, right?
Dr. He: Uh, it's pretty good. The writing is pretty good, and it sounds pretty good, it's just...
Charlie: Just what?
Dr. He: I don't know why, but I'm not touched at all.
Charlie: ......
Dr. He: You were supposed to express some feelings with this writing, right? But I don't feel anything at all.
Charlie: Is that so? But I wasn't lying.
If the girl didn't exist, he wouldn't go through so much trouble to do so many things. This was the truth.
He lowered his head to look at the speech in his hand. The spotlight shining on him also dimmed as planned. The atmosphere was indeed a bit heavy, but he couldn't articulate how he felt, and he didn't seem particularly disappointed either.
Dr. He: Charlie, although asking this is a bit...
Dr. He: But, do you love her, or do you love the process of pursuing her?
Dr. He: Because all your actions seem not to care about the outcome.
Charlie: This process is indeed quite fascinating.
Charlie raised his head. His gaze became calm, and his voice lost its exaggerated tone.
This process of constantly chasing is indeed very fascinating and very new.
Since returning from the snow mountain, he felt his soul regain peace and finally had the enthusiasm to take a step into an unfamiliar life again.
He craved everything new, craved experiencing all sorts of things, craved making choices, craved controlling his life, as if compensating for past deficiencies.
Lao He was right. He didn't care about the outcome.
But if he didn't care about the outcome, did that mean it wasn't love?
He looked at Lao He, his tone becoming lazy. He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head up.
Charlie: Then what is true love like?
Lao He didn't immediately give an answer. Instead, his eyes unconsciously smiled, revealing a nostalgic expression.
Dr. He: I can't really speak for the love of you young people nowadays. At least back in my time, if I couldn't see her, I would start thinking about her.
Dr. He: Whatever happened at work, at the hospital, I would want to tell her.
Dr. He: Oh, back then, she was also being pursued by someone.
Dr. He: When I saw it, my tongue felt like it was soaked in vinegar, sour and unbearable.
Dr. He: Have you ever felt that kind of jealousy?
Charlie: Of course. I love being jealous.
Charlie recalled. Whenever he saw someone else standing beside the girl, he would always go up and reclaim his rightful place, just like a real fiancé in a romance novel.
Lao He looked at his eager expression and sighed.
Dr. He: Then perhaps, at least you shouldn't always be the one arranging everything while she can only accept.
Dr. He: No one likes to always be passive, even in love.
Dr. He: Give her a little initiative, and maybe you can break the current stalemate.
-
Love's First Steps Part 2
After the unsuccessful banquet test run, Charlie returned home. The room, where he was alone, was cold and quiet.
He poured a dish of black vinegar and tried soaking his tongue in it. It was unbearably sour and bitter; his features twisted together.
Charlie: This is what jealousy feels like.
When he saw the girl had other suitors, he wanted to act like an ancient knight, throw down his white glove, and step forward to fight, whether with his ability or with sharp words.
He took Lao He's advice and no longer forcefully arranged date scenarios, giving the girl more options.
He canceled the anniversary dinner plan and instead asked the girl if she had any restaurant recommendations. The girl quickly sent him a restaurant address.
Taking the opportunity, Charlie invited the girl to have dinner together there.
Unexpectedly, the girl accepted. She said it was to thank Charlie for his previous help.
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Part 2
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