Emergence - Chapter 12

Chapter 12

This illness of mine kept me in bed for two days. During that time, I didn't tell anyone I was sick, not even my senior. I wanted to see just how far along Lin Yi was in her recovery.

To my surprise, she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. And not only was she self-sufficient, but her ability to care for others wasn't half bad either. It seemed that as long as she wanted to do something, she could. She was a good cook; preparing meals was no problem for her, and her food was certainly much better than mine. After all, she was someone who had studied abroad; I shouldn't have underestimated her.

Besides cooking, she also knew how to clean. Being a bit of a neat freak, once she started cleaning, she couldn't stop. These past two days, it was as if she'd had a personality transplant. She started doing housework with a vengeance, taking on everything, and she'd completely reorganized my home. The first time I got out of bed after my fever broke, I was so stunned by the apartment's brand-new look that my jaw dropped. She was so incredibly domestic, to the point that I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

In truth, I knew the reason for this sudden transformation. I had forced her out of her withdrawn state. She understood that she couldn't continue to wallow in despair and had resolved to re-engage with the world. But she hadn't yet been able to escape her depressive mood, which made her extremely anxious and restless, so she had to find things to do to distract herself. Her previous state of wooden stillness was, in fact, a state of emptiness. Her spirit was detached from her body, like a person who was simply spacing out. Someone who has never had depression would find it hard to understand that feeling—the feeling of being unable to control your own body. You constantly feel as if you are not yourself, existing in a semi-dissociated state.

A mentally and physically healthy person's state of mind is generally outward-looking and inclusive. No matter what external influences they face, their foundation cannot be shaken, because a healthy person learns to adapt, to accept, to adjust. But someone with depression is in a state of constant resistance to external influences. The outside world can easily sour their mood, making it difficult for them to rally, leaving them dejected, despondent, and even pessimistic and world-weary. An excessive need for self-preservation causes them to wrap themselves up in their own little world, unable to open their eyes to the one outside.

That night, I had used her parents to provoke a reaction, making her realize she couldn't go on like this. It was a powerful invasion of her personal little world from the outside, and it had a certain positive guiding effect on her. But she didn't know what to do to stop her parents from worrying, which in turn made her anxious. This was because she still lacked the adjustment capabilities of a healthy mind and body. Although she seemed much more active now, her mental state was still unhealthy, not much better than her previous wooden state. But at the very least, she was starting to try, and that was the biggest step forward.

Because we'd been cooped up at home for two days waging this war of attrition, the food I had stored in the refrigerator was all gone. The morning after I recovered, I planned to go out to buy groceries. Previously, whenever I went out shopping, I would leave her at home alone. Since she was usually in a state of sitting woodenly, I felt quite at ease leaving her by herself. But now that she was working so frantically, I was starting to worry. After all, she had gone from a "static" state to a "dynamic" one, and as long as she was in motion, the chance of an accident would inevitably increase. For instance, if she accidentally cut her hand while chopping vegetables and saw blood, it would be a disaster. Or what if she was cleaning the bathroom, saw herself in the mirror again, and was reminded of the past? In short, there were too many unsettling factors, and I really couldn't rest easy.

So, for the first time, I suggested:

"Lin Yi, want to come grocery shopping with me?"

She was wiping the table, and her hands froze the moment she heard me. Seeing her stand there stunned for a long moment without answering, I walked over to her and said:

"Let's go. You've been cooped up for so long, you should get some fresh air."

Her expression was wooden, her eyes vacant, like a lifeless puppet. I knew what she was thinking. Going out for a change of scenery is an incredibly difficult thing for a depression patient. This is mainly due to the paranoid thinking that accompanies depression; they always feel the outside world is full of change, that it is unfamiliar and dangerous, which makes them even more anxious and restless. Lin Yi had come to see my apartment as her temporary shelter—her protective umbrella, to put it bluntly. Asking her to step outside now was indeed a challenge.

"…Okay." Her reply came late. It was as if uttering that single word took everything she had, but she still gritted her teeth and said it, which showed her determination to change.

I smiled, took her by the sleeve, and told her to go change her clothes. By the time she slowly emerged, I could clearly sense her apprehension. But I still led her to put on her shoes and head out. The moment I closed the apartment door, I clearly saw her body tremble, her head turn, her body pivot, and her foot step back. I took her hand reassuringly. It was an attempt at contact. In the past, she would have resisted strongly, and I wanted to see if she still would.

As expected, her hand trembled and then pulled away from mine. But she didn't resist with her entire body like before. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before pulling free. In the past, I could only touch her when she was having an episode or fast asleep. So this was a small step forward, even if my heart still ached a little.

"Let's go," I said in a light tone, leading the way. When out and about, a depression patient needs to constantly see someone they know and trust nearby to feel secure. I walked ahead of her, letting her see my back, which would help calm her.

My apartment was on the tenth floor, and we took the elevator up and down, so she basically never had to encounter stairs. And thankfully, Lin Yi didn't have claustrophobia, otherwise she wouldn't even be able to take the elevator.

We took the elevator directly to the underground garage. I helped her into the car and drove toward a large supermarket. Today, I needed to buy more than just groceries; many of our daily necessities were running low and needed to be restocked, so I chose a large supermarket instead of the wet market. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, head down, staring at her fingers. Normally, when riding in a car, if a person's mind isn't occupied with other things, they will naturally look at the scenery outside the window. But she was different. She kept her gaze lowered, staring at her own fingers—a classic symptom of a depression patient. She didn't accept the outside world, she feared it, and so she wouldn't look at it.

The car soon entered the supermarket's parking garage. I parked, unbuckled my seatbelt, and saw that she seemed glued to her seat, unwilling to get out. I sighed, walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and helped her unbuckle her seatbelt. Then, without touching her, I said gently:

"Come on out. Don't worry, I'm right here."

She nervously picked at her fingers, and I noticed she was biting her lip. She was starting to get anxious. The garage was bustling. This supermarket always did good business, and with customers coming and going, there were quite a few cars entering and exiting at that moment. A young couple got out of their car and walked past ours. The wife was holding her husband's arm affectionately, and they were talking and laughing the whole way. They looked so happy it was enviable.

Lin Yi clenched her fists, her whole body began to tremble, and her breathing grew ragged. This is bad, I thought, and quickly reached out to grab her wrist. I didn't use much force, but I made sure she could feel the warmth and strength of my hand. My voice was unhurried, still gentle and kind:

"Lin Yi, don't be afraid. I'm right here."

This time, she didn't pull away, so I continued:

"Take a deep breath. See? I'm right here."

She was very obedient and began to take deep breaths as I instructed. After five deep breaths, her trembling gradually subsided, and she relaxed.

"Good girl. Get out of the car."

She shakily got out. I closed and locked the car door, then continued to lead the way.

"Follow me."

She followed so closely behind me that I suspected she was about to step on my heels. I wasn't walking fast, but her steps were very stiff, so my current pace was a little quick for her. Then I felt a tug on the fabric at my waist. I stopped immediately and turned to see that she had actually grabbed a handful of my shirt.

This was the first time she had proactively reached out to hold onto me. I was secretly overjoyed, but I also knew it was only because of the unfamiliar external environment. With no one else to rely on, she could only depend on me. Still, I was very happy. I slowed my pace and gently led her into the supermarket.

Throughout the entire time I was picking out items, she held tightly to my shirt. I imagine the scene must have looked quite ridiculous from a third person's perspective, but also very heartwarming. She was tense. We were surrounded by people, and the noise was overwhelming. She was like a lone boat adrift on a stormy sea, and I was her only refuge, a distant lighthouse. She didn't dare let go. I guessed her palms were probably slick with sweat.

I moved at a steady pace. With so many people around, I didn't dare walk too fast for fear of losing her, but at the same time, I wanted to end this shopping trip as soon as possible. Seeing her suffer like this was hard for me to bear. I was caught in a dilemma, torn between going faster or slower. For a moment, I wasn't paying attention, and I suddenly felt the fabric at my waist go slack.

Startled, I quickly turned around, only to find that a mischievous child, pushing a shopping cart, had darted between us. In her haste to avoid him, Lin Yi had reflexively let go.

The child happily scurried away, but Lin Yi's panicked expression fell clearly into my sight. I stood where I was, watching her, not moving. She looked at me, as if holding something back, waiting for something. Then, unable to bear it any longer, she lowered her head and rushed forward, ramming straight into my chest.

I didn't move, letting her crash into me. The force wasn't small, and I was forced back two steps. She rammed into me again, as if venting some kind of anger. She knocked me back again and again, drawing the attention of everyone around us, who probably thought we were having a fight or were about to start one. But it was rare to see someone ram into people like a bull. It was indescribably comical.

Finally, she backed me up against a low freezer, and I could retreat no further. She stopped ramming me and started hitting me instead, a flurry of blows with surprising strength. I didn't fight back, just raised an arm to block my chest and protect my heart. She didn't hit my head or face, just focused her attacks on my blocking arm. She was grinding her teeth, her almond-shaped eyes red, which actually looked rather adorably petulant. I found it funny, and I actually laughed out loud. I think my expression at that moment must have been incredibly bright and sunny. Getting beaten like this and still smiling so brightly—the onlookers had probably already labeled me as a mental patient even more terrifying than Lin Yi.

Seeing me laugh, of course, made her even angrier. She grabbed the front of my shirt and shook me back and forth, practically trying to scramble my brains. When she finally ran out of energy and stopped shaking me, I was seeing stars. I finally caught my breath and took a moment to recover, only to feel the hands gripping my shirt trembling violently, and to see her lower lip, bitten white. The look of terror on her face still hadn't faded.

My heart softened, and a wave of guilt washed over me. I bent down and pulled her into my arms. I whispered:

"I'm sorry. I almost lost you."

Her body trembled, and she started to struggle out of my embrace.

I used a little strength to keep her in my arms and continued, "Who told you not to let me touch you? If I had been holding your hand, how could I have lost you?"

She stopped struggling. I felt her grip on my shirt tighten, almost pinching my skin. On this one trip out, she had assaulted my chest countless times—ramming, hitting, grabbing. It was so frustrating. She treated me like a man; I wanted to cry but had no tears. So what if I'm a little tall and my chest is a bit flat? I'm still a girl! Can't you see how delicate and pretty I am, with my long hair in a braid?

"Can you spare me? We've bought almost everything. Let's go check out and head home now."

My words were deliberately ambiguous, spoken with the intention of teasing her a little. When I let her go, I caught a glimpse of a suspicious blush rising on her cheeks. I didn't know if it was my imagination, but I hoped I wasn't mistaken. I tried taking her hand, and this time, she didn't resist. I breathed a sigh of relief, my heart filled with even more joy. Choosing to bring her out today was definitely the right decision.

After that, all the way to the checkout, she held my hand tightly and never let go.

Previous Table of Contents Next