Chen Jin carried Lin Wan to the car and closed the door, but when he sat back in the driver's seat and grasped the steering wheel, he realized something was wrong—he couldn't grip it. He tried again, but his hand had no strength. Lin Wan sat quietly beside him, her face turned toward the window, looking at the dark night outside. He leaned back against the seat, trying to catch his breath. There were only a few hours left in the day. He hadn't eaten since a few bites at lunch, and now he was completely drained. No wonder he had no strength.
He thought back to their conversation earlier, and an unsettling thought crossed his mind. If he died, he wanted Lin Wan to be buried with him. That way, if there really was an afterlife, they could be together. And if there were reincarnation, they could be born again together...
Chen Jin quickly shook his head. What was he thinking? These were some ridiculous ideas. He was a materialist and an atheist; he had never believed in ghosts or the supernatural. He had never cared much for romantic notions either, often looking down on men who worried about love and women. Yet now, he found himself, at times, feeling sentimental like a woman. Had she infected him with this nonsense?
Thinking of this, he rolled down the window and let the cold wind rush in. It helped cool him down and brought some clarity. His strength returned a little. Feeling a slight shiver from the person beside him, he quickly rolled up the window, started the car, and drove toward home.
Chen Jin had heard that a woman's recovery after an abortion was like a "small month," just as important as the larger recovery period. He went online to check the necessary precautions, asking the aunt, who usually only made breakfast to stay with Lin Wan during the day and make her nutritious soups to replenish her blood. He even went home to get some of his mother's ginseng, and, afraid of overdosing, consulted a doctor to confirm that red ginseng would be a good choice. He had someone buy it for Lin Wan.
He also personally called Lin Wan's workplace and arranged for her to take half a month off. Since he had introduced some major advertising deals to her company, her manager treated him like a god, readily agreeing and even offering her extra days off.
After hanging up the phone, Chen Jin thought about everything he had done for Lin Wan. Well, maybe it wasn't everything, but he could still do one more thing for her. It was the one thing she most wanted, and it was within his power to do it.
He had been conflicted these past few days, more than he ever had been in thirty-two years of life. Let her go, or keep her? He often found himself wondering, what did Lin Wan mean to him? Now he understood. She was like a kite, rekindling the remnants of his childhood curiosity and his inexplicable obsession. To her, he was trampling her, playing with her, and she even referred to herself as his forbidden fruit. But wasn't he also admiring her from a distance? He was like a child flying a kite, watching it soar brightly in the blue sky. It gave him a sense of joy, a temporary escape from the mundane troubles of life. He had become a completely ordinary person, tangled in everyday worries, and he longed for that patch of purity, that untainted person.
He knew his methods were wrong. The string in his hands wasn't a string at all; it was a rope, a chain of iron. But if there hadn't been such a bad beginning, if there hadn't been so many unresolvable ties, would he have acted like that? Heaven knew how much he liked seeing her smile, yet she always cried in front of him, always frustrated. She was like a bird wanting to escape its cage, her beautiful feathers falling out as she struggled...
But letting her go? He couldn't accept it. He just couldn't. When he was a child, he could play with a caterpillar for hours, and when he got a new Transformer, he'd feel like the happiest person in the world. But as he grew older, that pure joy and satisfaction became rarer. He could close a big business deal and feel satisfied, or get a decent woman and feel happy, but after that, it was all emptiness. He thought his life would go on like this, until that one night in the emergency room when he caught a glimpse of her. He had grabbed hold of her, determined to keep her by any means, and now, asking him to let her go was something he couldn't bear, wouldn't accept.
The next morning, Lin Wan had asked him a question that haunted him. She had been staring at him, her voice soft as she asked, "Chen Jin, why can't you let go of me? You've got everything you wanted—my body, my dignity. I can't think of anything else for you to conquer."
He had answered calmly, "Maybe I'm just not done sleeping."
"Have you fallen in love with me?"
He had been taken aback, then quickly retorted, "Are you talking nonsense? Go back to sleep, I have to go to the company."
After that, he rushed to get out of bed. Before he even made it to the bathroom, he heard her voice again, "Please don't, because love is a thing that brings more pain than joy. It's exhausting, really."
He had snorted, turning around with disdain, "Love? That's just something foolish people like you do. Lin Wan, I don't love you, and I never will."
He said that, then walked briskly into the bathroom, turning the shower on full blast, letting the hot water pound against him, as though the intensity of the water could calm his agitation. Love—an issue that had been dormant for years, like a volcano he thought had died, but now it was stirring, ready to erupt and cause a disaster. And at that moment, he felt like the small animals around him, starting to sense the unease.
Standing up from his seat, Chen Jin walked to the window. The view outside was filled with tall buildings and glass reflecting the light. It was cold, hard, and familiar—the kind of scenery that gave him comfort. Every time he looked out at it, he felt an overwhelming sense of reassurance. But whenever he looked down at the people below, small like ants, he felt an instinctual coldness. Although they were ants too, he felt that those on top had the right to look down on and even ignore those below because position determined everything.
But the problem was, now he felt cold and lonely up here. He picked up a small ant from the ground and entertained himself with it. He gripped it tightly, afraid of crushing it, but when he released it, it scurried away and blended into the crowd of ants, never to be found again. He chuckled to himself, realizing that one day, he would feel troubled over an ant.
He picked up his phone and called the housekeeper. "How's she doing today? Did she eat enough? And her mood...?"