Chen Jin had always thought that depression was a disease for the weak, for those who lamented the passing seasons. He believed that everyone should be as strong and invulnerable as he was. But now, he realized how little he understood Lin Wan. He hadn't put himself in her shoes. Now, thinking about what she had endured in the past two years, he began to imagine her suffering, and it struck him with a terrifying clarity. He thought, Lin Wan, this foolish girl, should have killed herself over and over again, because there was always a chance it would succeed.
But the truth was, she was too kind. She couldn't bring herself to do anything immoral. Instead, she chose to hurt herself as a way to get back at him. They were completely different people. She was bound by rules and constraints, while he disregarded them, always finding ways to exploit the gaps. Meeting him had been the greatest misfortune of her life, an unlucky streak spanning eight generations.
He continued to think, reflecting on her life before she met him, imagining the events he had uncovered during his investigation as vivid images. He sneered at himself—he had grown cynical after a traumatic childhood experience, convinced that the world owed him something. But when he compared his life to hers, he realized that Lin Wan was the one whom the world had wronged. She had suffered so much injustice, and yet, he had only added to it, piling on more misery. The words "add insult to injury" echoed in his mind, and he suddenly remembered something Fang Zheng had said: "You will ruin her life." He laughed bitterly. He had ruined Lin Wan.
With a soft sound, a tear fell from his eye, landing on his knee. He thought back to Lin Wan's words: "If I die, will you shed a tear for me?"
That sentence had hurt when she first said it, and now, thinking about it, he realized that although she hadn't died, she had come close—so close. His mind was filled with two repeating phrases: "You will ruin her life" and "If I die..." These words looped in his head like two strands of rope twisting together, tightening around his throat, suffocating him. In a daze, he grabbed a cigarette, trembling as he lit it. The nicotine was no longer just nicotine; it was his oxygen.
Chen Jin took several deep drags from the cigarette before slumping back in the chair, his eyes closed. His father's words echoed in his ears: "If a person can live their life in ignorance, they will be happy. If they can live their life with full awareness, they will also be happy. But if someone lives half their life in ignorance and then suddenly wakes up, or if they live half their life in awareness and then try to pretend to be ignorant, that's a great misfortune."
Chen Jin stared at the ceiling. This was karma. He had been wrong. There was karma in this world. He now understood that karma was not about quick retribution; it was about indulgence, letting things go on unchecked until the time was right. Only when the crimes accumulated enough was the punishment inevitable. And now, karma had struck, dragging his woman and child down with him to hell.
He exhaled deeply. It was high—extremely high.
The smell of burnt tobacco hung in the air, pulling Chen Jin back to reality. He felt a sharp pain in his fingers and looked down to see the burning tip of the cigarette had dropped, leaving a small burn mark on his index and middle fingers. The sharp pain shot through his body, but he didn't care. He glanced at the burn briefly before turning his attention back. It hurt, but compared to the pain Lin Wan must have felt during the abortion, it seemed trivial.
By the time dawn broke, Chen Jin stood up from the chair. After sitting for hours, his body felt stiff. He stretched lazily, then went back to the bedroom. Lin Wan was still asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her. His mind wandered back to the first time they met. She had been pale then, but not like that. Now, she looked sickly, ghostly pale. She was more fragile than he had ever realized, and he was the one who had caused it. He had been so focused on his own desires that he had thrown aside her feelings and wishes.
He unconsciously reached out to touch her face, but stopped just short, only a centimeter away from her skin. Now was not the time for sentimentality. There were more important matters to attend to.
Half an hour later, Chen Jin stood in front of Lin Wan's apartment, holding the key he had found in her bag. He realized that the reason he had never noticed Lin Wan's depression was twofold: first, he hadn't paid attention, and second, she had been hiding it from him. Though she lived with him, she left behind almost no trace of her life. He knew she spent her days here, and though she wasn't particularly happy about it, he hadn't pushed her. He knew there were limits to greed; otherwise, it would drive her mad. But he hadn't realized how close she was to madness.
He unlocked the door and went inside, heading straight for the bedroom. He didn't spare a glance for the nightstand, drawers, or closet—he searched them all. He didn't care anymore whether what he was doing was legal or moral. These things hadn't held him back before, and now they didn't matter at all. His actions were worse than a thief's, yet he didn't care.
It was during this chaotic search that he found something unexpected—something he had been trying to avoid. He came across a small box, and his curiosity got the better of him. He opened it, and inside was a pair of couples of rings. They stung his eyes, and his heart.
Chen Jin stared at them for a while, then bitterly smiled at himself. He realized that breaking into her private space had come at a cost. He carefully put the rings back, feeling defeated. He sat down on the bed, running his hand over the pink floral cotton bedspread and the soft pink wallpaper. This was Lin Wan's world. It was so different from his.
He sat there, feeling disheartened for a while, before forcing himself to stand up and continue searching. He wasn't here to invade her privacy; he was looking for clues about her condition. In the past, whenever he needed to investigate something, he had simply given orders to his subordinates or hired people. His time was too valuable to waste on trivial matters. But now, he wanted to do it himself. He had missed too much, and he wanted to find it all back. What he had destroyed, he would rebuild, piece by piece.
As he searched, he couldn't help but also probe into Lin Wan's life. For example, when he saw a row of CDs and DVDs on the bookshelf, he couldn't resist taking a look at what she liked. "Oh, so she likes Xu Wei, and she's also a fan of Chungking Express and My Blueberry Nights," he thought. "She even likes Wong Kar Wai." His gaze then landed on a disc wrapped in a piece of paper. He pulled it out and saw a string of English written on it: Gloomy Sunday.
Chen Jin froze, his breath caught in his throat. The song, once called the "suicide song" and banned in several countries, was something he and his roommates had listened to out of curiosity back in university. He hadn't felt anything at the time, joking that it was probably their strong life force keeping them safe from such things. But now, looking at this disc, he felt an inexplicable sense of oppression and anxiety. Why would Lin Wan listen to this? How long had she been listening to it? Was her suicidal behavior related to this song?
Then a clue clicked in his mind. He pulled out his phone, checked the calendar, and sure enough, the day of Wang Xiao's funeral was a Sunday.
Chen Jin stood there, stunned for a while, before realizing his purpose. Lin Wan was seriously ill now. He couldn't waste any more time—if he did, the consequences would be unimaginable. In a panic, he began frantically searching through her things, turning her neatly organized apartment into a mess. He wasn't sure whether he was looking for clues or just venting his frustration. Just as he was about to give up and call someone to investigate, a business card slipped out of a magazine.
At first, he didn't pay much attention, but when his eyes skimmed over the keywords on the card, he immediately crouched down, carefully picked them up, and rushed out the door without a second thought.