He could distinctly feel every muscle throughout his body, the blood coursing beneath his skin, and the nerves saturating every corner of his being. Yet, he had lost complete control. Despite his struggles, his efforts, his resistance, nothing budged except his eyeballs.
It was as though his brain and body had been severed entirely.
He felt as if he were wrapped tightly, bound inescapably, sealed against the world. Even a simple movement like turning his neck was beyond his capacity. He might as well have been tossed into a lake, unable to move.
The chilling lake water began seeping through his pores, his body's warmth gradually dissipating. The air left in his lungs diminished, the surroundings dimming by the second. The tranquil water's surface showed no ripples, no undercurrents. He could feel the gentle trace of water slipping past his fingertips, yet he remained entirely still.
His lungs ignited with a searing heat, his brain, starved of oxygen, stumbled into a state of shutdown. In a sudden realization, he understood he was paralyzed from the neck down.
Though he still sensed the presence of his limbs, he couldn't command them to move. He still felt the body's primal calls, but no muscle obeyed. He still perceived the world, but all he could do was watch. It was no joke.
No anger, no fear, no panic, no sorrow, no pain... not even despair.
He lay there, motionless, just like that. Time and space seemed to lose meaning. He comprehended the implications, yet he didn't. The chaotic confusion of that fleeting moment stripped him of the ability to react.
Renly had believed memories had blurred, becoming the tales of a past life.
For ten years, lying on that sickbed, he had grown accustomed to such a state. His soul felt confined within a tiny cube. Struggles notwithstanding, his world remained constrained. The only path to freedom was through movies, where thoughts sprouted wings and soared. It had become his norm.
But now, as memories resurfaced, deep within his mind, vivid details arose once more. They were as vivid as ever, as if never forgotten or truly acclimated to. The void of confusion, the bewilderment, the aimless daze – all felt as real as ever.
Wide-eyed, Renly gazed straight ahead, a sea of white filling his vision. It crept from every corner, flowing gradually, engulfing every inch of space, even devouring his body – fingertips, feet, wrists, ankles. Its inexorable advance bore an unstoppable momentum, his struggles proving futile.
Hands, feet, body, head – all sensation slipped away, even his fingertips.
Instant panic was overtaken by bewilderment. Renly barely had time to contemplate: What was happening? Wasn't he on a plane to Seattle? Hadn't he been reborn? Hadn't he achieved his dreams? Hadn't he escaped the clutches of memories? Wait, was this the film set for "Buried", or was it "50/50"?
These questions flashed momentarily. Then a voice reached his ears, distant at first, a mere rustling wind. But in the next moment, it exploded upon his eardrums like thunder. "Sir, are you okay?" It grew louder as it approached.
With a swift turn of his head, his mind regained its freedom. Subconsciously, Renly blinked and adjusted his seated posture. He found himself facing a flight attendant standing by the aisle. Her face bore a courteous smile, though tinged with a hint of stiffness. Her eyes betrayed a worry she couldn't conceal.
Renly tugged at the corners of his mouth, feeling his facial muscles tighten slightly. "I'm fine. I'm good."
His momentary distraction had merely resurrected memories from his previous life, plunging him once again into the abyss of reminiscence. The immersion was too real, too overwhelming. Unlike the last time with "Buried", he didn't need to exert much effort to reexperience those emotions.
He had genuinely believed he'd forgotten. Truly.
The flight attendant scrutinized Renly's complexion. Though his forehead glistened with sweat, his gaze had regained composure. The atmosphere around him seemed steadier. Perhaps, it had all been a bad dream. Since Renly claimed he was fine, she refrained from further inquiry.
"Apologies for interrupting your rest, Renly. I'm a big fan of your performance in "The Pacific". Would you mind giving me an autograph?" The flight attendant's words were cautious. It was against airline policy, but as long as the passenger agreed, the cabin chief would turn a blind eye.
Once again, Renly tugged at the corners of his mouth, successfully conjuring a faint smile. "Of course, it's my pleasure."
A broad smile spread across her face. She lowered her voice and said, "Thank you so much." Then, she produced a neatly prepared napkin and a carbon pen, excitement shimmering in her eyes. Almost unable to contain herself, she continued, "Congratulations on your award at Sundance. That piece, my friends and I are eagerly anticipating it."
By now, Renly had regained his composure, his thoughts steadying. Swiftly, he penned his name onto the napkin and inquired, "Who should I make it out to?"
"Betty. Just Betty." Her voice trembled slightly.
After signing, Renly handed back the napkin and pen, smiling. "To Ms. Just Betty, thank you for your support. I hope you won't be disappointed after watching "Like Crazy"."
His gentlemanly words carried a touch of playful banter. The flight attendant chuckled softly, but to avoid disturbing others, she pressed her lips together, causing her shoulders to tremble ever so slightly. She nodded vigorously at Renly. "Rest assured, I won't be disappointed."
Stepping back a half step, her face still beaming, she kindly reminded, "The plane is preparing to land. We'll reach our destination in about fifteen minutes. Have a pleasant journey this time." Her beautiful eyes shimmered with a radiant glow.
Renly didn't respond, only offering a smile and tilting his chin slightly. He could sense the admiration and reverence in the flight attendant's gaze. He believed that if he spoke up, he'd secure a date for tonight. However, his mood wasn't right now, so he politely brushed aside her hint.
The flight attendant's disappointment was palpable, yet she still nodded before turning and leaving.
Renly turned his head. Outside the window, layers upon layers of white clouds stretched, occasionally parting to reveal the cityscape below. It lacked the towering heights of New York, as well as its gray, cold gloom. The uninterrupted expanse of green brought a sense of calm and tranquility. His thoughts gradually settled, no longer tumultuous, no longer stimulating, no longer boiling – they just descended gently.
People often fantasize that upon receiving significant news – terminal illness, death, madness – their emotions will experience dramatic swings, surging and plummeting. However, reality doesn't often unfold that way. When news reaches the brain, the first reaction is a lack of reality.
Just like with others.
Countless "others" exist in life. When disaster and misfortune befall someone else, it's easy to believe it's happening to someone else – a child orphaned due to a parent's accident, a student ending their life due to campus violence, a worker dying at their desk from overwork... They're all stories about others, evoking sympathy but lacking a genuine visceral impact.
However, when misfortune befalls oneself, turning oneself into an "other" in the eyes of others, that sense of distortion is like free-falling – an instant drop into bewilderment and disarray. There's no emotional breakdown, no dramatic eruption; just confusion and bewilderedness.
What exactly happened?
When Renly first learned of his paralysis, he froze. There was no absurdity, no fear, just a frozen stillness. He waited until that sense of reality slowly permeated his skin – cold and sharp – before his thoughts resumed their course. Or, perhaps, it was Chu Jiashu who went through it all. That would be a more accurate description.
Initially, he had no clear idea of what high-level paralysis meant.
It's not that he didn't understand the term or didn't know his predicament. He knew he couldn't move, that he now had to rely on others to survive, and that his life had come to a standstill. But he couldn't truly feel how much this upheaval had affected his life.
Those changes seeped into his life bit by bit. A glance, a conversation, a fleeting eye contact – these indescribable details transformed his life entirely.
And then, at some point, the sense of reality finally settled in. The agony and despair would suddenly explode forth, overwhelming even oneself.
Did Will Rutherford experience the same when he received his diagnosis? What about Adam from the script? Would it be different if it were Renly facing the same situation instead of Chu Jiashu?
Renly gazed at the scenery outside the window. The green was growing more abundant. The verdant hue, shrouded in a misty rain, stretched along the graceful river. Emerald, azure, indigo, and smoky gray blended like ink painting, diffusing through the crystal-clear spring water.
The undulating city skyline exuded an elegant and delicate charm. The tranquil, far-reaching, and graceful scenery was like a girl from the southern water villages, donning a cheongsam, holding a paper umbrella, passing through a gentle drizzle, arriving in a graceful manner. Without seeing her face, time lingered along the umbrella's edge.
Seattle, they had arrived.