Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Critical Moment

Wine is the finest companion for celebration in times of joy, and the most effective anesthetic in moments of pain. It lends you courage when you are weak and loosens your tongue when you are weighed down by repression.

Yan Xu and the girl’s drinking began indoors and spilled into the night air, from the corners of the grand hall to the quiet of a hotel room. At first, there were few words between them; Yan Xu merely accompanied the girl, drinking glass after glass in silence. Perhaps it was the numbing touch of alcohol, but the barrier that had stood between them seemed to melt away, and the girl no longer kept him at arm’s length as she had at first.

They began to talk freely—gossip from their circle, so-and-so’s sense of style, films and music, the girl’s hopes for the future. From her words, Yan Xu learned that she had long contemplated leaving this world behind, yearning instead for the happiness of an ordinary woman: a life of marriage and children. Though two years his senior, the girl’s heart was as fragile as a child’s, desperate for someone’s care.

She loved her current boyfriend, Ah Ye, because he came from a large family and knew how to care for others. “You really shouldn’t drink any more. If you keep going, you’ll be truly drunk,” Yan Xu said, watching her open another bottle and quickly reaching out to stop her.

“It’s better to be drunk. When I am, I can forget everything,” she replied with a bitter, lonely smile.

“That’s only a temporary numbness. By tomorrow, it’ll all return to your mind, and with the added pain of a hangover, you’ll only feel worse,” Yan Xu said, pouring himself another drink and shaking his head.

“Who cares?” The girl sat on the carpet, her back against the bed.

“Do you think he’s still out socializing?” she murmured, gazing at the moon and stars outside the window.

“At this hour, he should be asleep,” Yan Xu replied, fully aware who she meant; it was at least one in the morning—most people would be dreaming by now.

“Is he?” There was doubt in her voice. “Just the other day, the paper said he spent the night at a bar with some girl.”

“How can you believe what the papers say? You’ve been in this world long enough to know how freely they invent things,” Yan Xu consoled her. “Besides, in those bars, there are all kinds of people. Plenty of girls flock over—sometimes it’s just dancing, nothing more. Those reporters twist it all for sales.”

“If he would just stay away from bars, there’d be nothing for them to write about,” the girl snorted coldly. Yan Xu could see tears glistening in her eyes.

He sighed quietly. The tabloids had made the girl believe her boyfriend was seeing someone else. Yan Xu was neither party to nor witness of these affairs, and thus had no right to judge—especially in matters of the heart. But in this world, rumors seldom arise without cause, and temptation lurks everywhere; few can truly resist it.

“Don’t be so upset,” Yan Xu said gently. “Love is about mutual tolerance and trust. Regardless of whether he’s done what the papers say, you can’t keep acting this way. I know you wanted to make Ah Ye jealous by being so close with Miao Qiaowei and the others, but you’ve forgotten—if there’s real distance between you, such displays will only make things worse.”

He continued, “And a man needs his own space, too. Pressuring him like this will only suffocate him, pushing him further away.”

“I know, but sometimes I just can’t control myself,” she said, draining her glass.

“And now, he’s already so far from me. I feel like our love has soured; all that’s left is friendship on his side.” Her voice was full of frustration. “I’m so tired of this. Just before I met you tonight, I honestly thought about ending it all—then at least the pain would disappear.” Under the influence of alcohol, she laid her soul bare.

Since the latter half of ’84, Ah Ye’s career had begun to take off, but his professional success only drove them further apart. By year’s end, he left the apartment they’d shared near her workplace, shifting his focus to Taiwan. More and more photos appeared in the papers, showing him with different women, and rumors spread of a close relationship with another actress. All this drove the girl to the edge, her mind reeling with words she had no one to confide in. The pressure gnawed at her, a demon gradually consuming her nerves, filling her with wild imaginings and driving her to impulsive, self-destructive acts.

Yan Xu understood that no words could truly help her now. What he could do was listen, offering her an outlet for the pain bottled up inside. With her strength of character, she could endure anything, so long as someone was there to listen. Besides, the rift between the two lovers had not yet become irreparable, nor had she reached that later state of utter exhaustion.

Time slipped by. The more they drank, the deeper their drunkenness, but the more intimate their conversation became. Even secrets tumbled out, though whether the other truly heard them, who could say?

“Hey! Hey!” Yan Xu called, but the girl did not reply. Turning, he saw that at some point, she had fallen asleep on the carpet.

She looked so peaceful now; moonlight spilled through the window, casting her face in silver and blush.

“Don’t sleep here,” Yan Xu murmured, swaying as he stood. He lifted the girl from the floor, intending only to lay her properly on the bed.

“Don’t go. I need you!” The moment he set her down, she clung to him tightly. Her lips were tinged with the scent of alcohol, but nothing could mask the sweetness of her femininity.

Yan Xu’s breath grew heavy as she held him close. He had never imagined such a moment—so good it left him at a loss, unsure what to do next. He was no saint; though he had never been so intimate with a woman since coming to this era, in his days as an assistant director he had tasted the desperation of many women hoping to trade favors for advantage.

He did not try to suppress his desires. Under the influence of drink, his reason deserted him, and longing stirred within.

“Ah Ye…” The girl’s slurred words froze his movements.

Though he was drunk, a sliver of clarity remained. Her voice thundered in his ears like a bolt of lightning.

He realized he was taking advantage of her vulnerability—at her lowest, when she was least able to resist. He could not predict how she would react upon waking. He wanted to save, not destroy; and from the name she breathed, he knew who truly held her heart.

Gazing at her sleeping face, flushed with drink, Yan Xu gently pried her arms from around him and slipped off the bed. He pulled a blanket over her, tucking her in with quiet care…