Emergence - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I've never been a big fan of alcohol, not since I was a child. That said, because I was frail back then, there was a long period where I had to drink two liang of high-proof erguotou every day as a primer for my Chinese medicine, which is how I developed such a high tolerance. I still hate the feeling of it rushing to my head. I need to keep a clear mind at all times, to be mindful of my words and actions.

Today, I found myself at another party centered around alcohol. After a while of revelry with my colleagues, I was, unsurprisingly, pressured into drinking quite a bit. Luckily, my mind was still relatively clear. I decided to go up to the rooftop to get some air.

This was a famous high-rise in the center of Shanghai. The first to fourth floors were a large shopping mall, with office buildings above that. The top floor was a food court, complete with restaurants, KTVs, nightclubs, and bars.

Shanghai is an incomparably bustling metropolis. Living here, it's easy to get lost in it all. I'm keenly aware that I need to hold on to certain principles that might seem incredibly childish to others. Only then can I avoid losing myself. However, this isn't easy to do, so I often feel lonely.

When I'm lonely, I smoke. I know it's a bad habit; it's my only one. I slipped on the long, black wool coat I was carrying. The white shirt I was wearing felt a bit tight, making it hard to stretch my arms. I shrugged my shoulders, feeling the weight of the coat, and an inexplicable sense of security washed over me. I walked to the stairwell and headed up. This was already the top floor; any higher was the rooftop. It wasn't usually open; the door was kept locked. But my luck was good today. As I rounded the corner of the landing, I felt the cold air from outside. The door was open. I took out a cigarette and lit it. With the cigarette dangling from my lips, I pulled a pair of leather gloves from my pocket and put them on. Then I took the cigarette from my mouth and exhaled deeply.

I stepped out onto the rooftop. The cold wind of late November blew against my face, scattering the fumes of alcohol. I felt a wave of dizziness and leaned against the wall of the rooftop structure, smoking in silence. Perhaps it was the alcohol and the night, but I was starting to feel sentimental again. My mind was filled with memories bubbling up for no reason, which made me want to smile. In fact, I did. I imagine the corners of my lips must be turned up right now.

I'm a rather unconventional woman. Of course, you could easily label me a "strong woman," a "tomboy," or even a "crazy woman." But in reality, I don't know what kind of woman I am either.

I have a simple and pleasant name—Gu Fan. My parents hoped I would just be ordinary, but perhaps I was never fated for an ordinary life. When I was little, I was a very frail child. I was sick all the time, which worried my parents a great deal. They tried many ways to strengthen my body, like having me take Chinese medicine, as I mentioned before. It wasn't entirely without effect; at least my tolerance for alcohol is pretty good now.

But what truly freed me from my frailty was starting martial arts. In truth, my parents really didn't like me learning to fight. In their traditional view, it was very unseemly for a girl to practice martial arts. But health was more important than anything. After trying everything else without success, they had no choice but to send me to learn.

Martial arts was very effective. Perhaps I was born to do it. The styles I learned were very mixed. To put it nicely, you could say I drew from the strengths of many schools. To put it bluntly, I was a jack of all trades, master of none. From traditional Chinese martial arts to Taekwondo and Karate, and later to Muay Thai and kickboxing, and now I specialize in Jeet Kune Do. I suppose you could call me a martial arts expert, more or less. Of course, only on an amateur level. I'm not a professional martial artist.

I knew that, at most, my parents would only let me use martial arts as a tool for exercise, or as a hobby. It could never become my job. They hoped I would study hard, get into a good university with a good major, and have a good job in the future. Just like every parent in this great country of China.

All the way through middle school, my grades were as ordinary as my name. The reason my grades suddenly skyrocketed came from a girl. This girl was a year older than me. The year I was in eighth grade, she was in ninth.

She was very beautiful. I don't know if others thought so too, but at least I did. By ninth grade, she had mostly finished developing. She was about 165 centimeters tall, and though her figure was still a bit youthful, it was lovely. She had beautiful long, black hair. Her eyes weren't very large, but they were incredibly beautiful. When she smiled, they would curve into crescents, a sight so sweet it melted your heart.

The first time I saw her, I knew I liked her. I started to realize I was different from other girls when I was about eight. I didn't like playing with girls, only running wild with the boys. This was even more true after I started martial arts. I could play shirtless with the boys without a second thought (when I was little, of course). But being around girls made me feel uncomfortable all over, and I just wanted to run away. By the time I was about eleven, I understood that I probably liked girls.

When I was fourteen, I met her. She had just transferred from another school in her ninth-grade year. It was mainly because of her father's job transfer. Her family of three had moved here together.

Her family lived in the building across from mine. We took the same route to and from school every day. She would walk in front, and I would walk behind her. One in front, one behind, I felt like a guard escorting her home. Whenever I saw her profile as she occasionally turned back, my heart would pound.

Six months later, I learned her name was Lin Yi. A name that felt very gentle.

Her grades were very good—incredibly good, in fact. From the moment she arrived, she held a firm grip on the number one spot in the ninth grade. The teachers all said she could get into the best high school in all of Shanghai. And I foolishly believed she definitely could.

Sure enough, she really did get in. But I suddenly realized I didn't want to be separated from her. I still wanted to escort her to and from school every day. I wanted to keep watching her quietly, just like this.

I started studying like a madwoman. My parents thought I was sick. But to their relief and delight, within a single school year, I actually got into that same top high school they had never even dared to dream of for me.

After getting into high school, I didn't slack off. I studied hard, chasing after her. I tried my best to get closer to her, to put myself on the same level as her. In the second semester of my first year, we finally got to know each other formally through a school event. She was very gentle, just as I'd imagined. But I also knew she was a very conservative and innocent girl. She was staunchly heterosexual. She had a crush on a boy, but couldn't even bring herself to confess. She said dating was something to wait for until college.

I fell silent.

I visited her home once. Her mother liked me a lot. But I always wondered, if she knew I liked her daughter, would she still like me? Theirs was a very traditional family, with a very conservative atmosphere, even more so than my own. I only went to her house twice. After that, I started to feel afraid of going there.

Our two families lived very close to each other. I heard my mother had even met her mother, and they had a pleasant chat. It was like the friendly meeting between the two mothers-in-law from my fantasies. It was a very strange feeling. As if a dream you'd fantasized about had come true, but that dream was built on a terrifying emptiness. I felt panicked by it. For a few days, I even avoided my mother whenever I saw her.

In those years, my relationship with her, due to my deliberate efforts, remained at a state of not too close, not too far. Until she got into college and left Shanghai for school, we were separated just like that. There was no dramatic confession at our parting like I'd imagined. No reluctant farewell. We parted in a very subdued atmosphere, and after that, we never saw each other again.

I knew I shouldn't get close to her, so I tried to stay away. For college, I went to a school in another, faraway city. After that, I was always busy with my studies. I kept up my top-student momentum in college. I studied law. Later, through my own efforts, I got an internship in the legal department of a large corporation, and I built good relationships with several of its senior executives. While interning, I also prepared for the graduate school entrance exams, studying for a master's in applied psychology. I think heaven was smiling on me. I successfully got into graduate school. When I graduated, that same corporation invited me back. Now, at 28, I've become a senior executive in the legal department of this Fortune 500 company. You could say I'm successful in my career.

And yet, for all these years, I've remained single. No girlfriend, and certainly no so-called boyfriend. Sometimes, I feel lonely. Even though I have friends all over the world, I still feel a bone-deep loneliness in the dead of night. I didn't want to deceive my family, so about five years ago, I came out to my parents and relatives. I told them I love women. As expected, they couldn't accept it. It's okay if you can't accept it; I can wait until you do. So, five years later—just a few weeks ago, actually—they called and asked me to come home for the Spring Festival this year. They said they missed me. I knew then that I had, perhaps, succeeded.

I'm also out to my small circle of close friends. My true friends all know my orientation. They were happy to accept me and continue to fool around with me without a care in the world. I feel very fortunate. But I can never be truly happy. I understand that deep in my heart, there's always a lingering attachment, one I can't let go of.

The cigarette had burned down to the end. It was starting to burn my fingers. I dropped the butt and crushed it out with my leather boot.

In the corner of my eye, a piece of clothing fluttered. I was startled. I took a few steps forward and saw a woman with long hair, wearing a long dress with a cardigan over it. She looked very slender, almost gaunt. In the darkness, I couldn't make out her features. I could only see her silhouette against the glow of the city's neon lights. It was somewhat familiar, yet somewhat strange.

She was standing on the edge of the rooftop. One more step would be a drop of over a hundred meters. The late autumn wind howled around her. Her body was trembling slightly. I didn't know if she was hesitating.

For a few seconds, I stood frozen, not knowing what to do.

But I quickly composed myself. I crept up quietly behind her, then, quick as lightning, I wrapped my arms around her waist. Then I used the momentum to fall backward.

She was light and soft, pliant as if she had no bones. We fell together onto the rooftop floor. The cold concrete ground dug painfully into my back. But I couldn't pay it any mind, because she was struggling violently. Her scream pierced my eardrums. In that scream, I heard infinite pain.

She screamed frantically:

"Let me die!!!"

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