Chereads / Wind stirs, leaves descend / Chapter 55 - Is idealism a form of escape?

Chapter 55 - Is idealism a form of escape?

Before the end of that year, I returned to Taipei to do the year-end summary at the agency. After the meeting, Zhang Hongsheng asked to speak with me alone for a long time. The topic was mainly about Ye Xi.

"Do you really believe that the mainland will legalize same-sex marriage?" he asked. The office was sealed off, and the smoke rings he blew out filled the entire room. Looking out from the two adjacent floor-to-ceiling windows on the 35th floor, you could see the whole view of downtown Taipei. At this moment, like the suffocating smoke surrounding me, I faced the bright expanse outside, with nowhere to escape.

Silence.

"Is Ye Xi a committee member now?" he spoke again.

I nodded. I was standing; he was sitting.

"A pledge of allegiance?" He snorted with laughter. "How sincere is he to you? I happen to have a report from his company here. Would you like to see it? Take a look at his revenue this year and the proportion you occupy in his business plan."

Before I could respond, he tossed a stack of documents onto the table. I picked it up and flipped through it; the characters might as well have been hieroglyphs.

"This certainly wasn't his own idea."

"Don't be in a hurry to defend him. I know you two have been together for many years. Even if it is genuine, continuously profiting from exploiting your relationship is a dangerous game. For both you and him. You should know about Jay's situation, right?"

Zhang Hongsheng took a puff of his cigarette. I couldn't utter a word.

"They were caught by paparazzi, unlike you two, who exposed yourselves." He laughed again.

"The exposure back then was the agency's idea. Besides, as you wished, I have never openly confirmed it," I finally snapped. Starting my own company had become a matter of urgency.

"I warned you at the time to quit while you were ahead. Now, it's almost time. Today, at the meeting, we also expressed some of our concerns and anxieties. Besides, your family has quite a few things to say too, right?" He stood up, walked over to me, and patted me on the shoulder. "It hasn't been easy for you to reach the position you're in now. We all understand your hard work. Our team, Ah Long, Li Juan, they have all put their hearts into helping you. You should also consider the company and the team more. You have always worked very hard, and your musical talent is evident to everyone, which is why you have grown to be a king of the Chinese music scene and the artist the company values most. But now, your personal emotions have become the biggest risk for yourself, your family, and the company."

"I believe legalization will succeed."

"And then what if it does? Public opinion won't change overnight. The reason you two have received official promotion is that you are just a political symbol. Be careful not to be used. For them, once public opinion shifts, they can jump out and nail you to the pillar of shame. I don't need to spell out these stakes for you any further; some things are better left unsaid."

I knew that Ye Xi and I, whether for his company or mine, were nothing more than profitable products. To the higher-ups and public opinion, we were merely facades that could be replaced at any moment.

And Ye Xi? Is Ye Xi the same? He was the embodiment of all my artistic fantasies. His nobility was the nobility of art itself. Art has been my lifelong, unreachable pursuit. Zhang Hongsheng's words shattered all my obsessions with art. Can everything be defined by market value? Can everything become a tool of politics, manipulating people's hearts, including art? Suddenly, I felt that all along, I had been too naive. And so had Ye Xi.

"I understand what you're saying. Let me think about how to handle this," I replied to him.

"No worries. The company will draft a plan. The PR team will help you come up with some talking points and response measures, so don't rush. It's good that you understand. By now, you're already a mature artist. I believe you will firmly maintain your status as a superstar."

"Alright," I said, feigning calm. "I'm going downstairs to get a cup of coffee."

"I have some things to deal with later—negotiating some of your contracts for next year. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Okay." I turned around and left, practically fleeing in panic.

I thought about many possible outcomes for Ye Xi and me. Maybe the best one would be like He Tiantian and Bai Jingrui: eloping. I even calculated all my assets—the balance in my accounts, my real estate in Taipei, my property in New York, and my shares in the company. It's actually quite substantial—more than enough for a life in Mallorca. I was deep in my calculations, standing at the coffee shop counter for a long time. Then a familiar voice came from behind. It pulled me back to many years ago, back when Ye Xi was planning to go to Russia for his PhD.

"What are you buying? You've been standing here forever." It was Bai Jingrui.

"You're back?" The person who had once eloped appeared in front of me, and I was a little stunned.

"You usually drink lattes, right?"

"Yeah." I still hadn't recovered.

"Two lattes, please," she said to the barista.

I didn't know what to say to her and retreated to a corner of the coffee shop.

"I'm back in Taiwan." She came over with two cups of coffee.

"Are you settling down?"

"Yes, I think I'll be staying in Taipei long-term. Tiantian and I broke up." She sat down across from me, just like last time.

"That's a pity." I lowered my head. "Was it because of Uncle Bai?"

"It wasn't because of my dad." She tossed her hair back, looking a bit impatient. "It's actually kind of funny. Maybe I'm just not suited for communal living. After moving in together, we started arguing a lot. I needed a quiet environment for my research, and each project often required me to stay home for long periods. She liked to go out traveling and would sometimes bring friends over. I would get a bit paranoid when I heard her leaving, and eventually, she became more and more cautious around me. I felt like I owed her something, that I wasn't there for her enough. She also felt that her presence was interfering with my work." She took a sip of her coffee. "Is it that shocking? Your eyes are so wide."

"No, I just always thought you two were doing well. I'm a bit shocked to hear this news."

"It's not that regretful. We're still friends," she smiled. "Life isn't a fairy tale. Think about why fairy tales always end with 'and the prince and princess lived happily ever after.' What does a 'happy life' look like, anyway? It's too abstract. Real life isn't always that romantic. But at least she and I had happy memories together."

After saying this, she finished her coffee in one gulp.

"I have some things to take care of; let's meet up another time." She stood up, ready to leave.

"Okay." I was lost in my thoughts, afraid to look at her.

That was a memory about a vow. Suddenly, I felt a deep fear of vows. If a vow is not fulfilled, it becomes a regret. But perhaps it is even more terrifying if it is fulfilled because then there is the risk of betrayal. Regret in life is far more beautiful than betrayal. I suddenly thought that if all failure could be blamed on external pressure, then my relationship with Ye Xi would not need to bear any responsibility for vows. But fear swept over me again—this time, it was the fear of my own weak defeatism. I gripped my coffee cup tightly. My right hand clenched involuntarily, trying to dispel this foolish thought.

I looked out at the bustling traffic outside the coffee shop and remembered the moment when I first met Ye Xi, pulling him back in front of a stream of oncoming cars. Maybe he and I were now standing on the edge of a dangerous road, being jostled by the crowd, just one misstep away from being crushed by one of the cars passing behind us. Our fragments would be blown away by the winter wind, like scattered clouds, and no one would even bother to clean up the mess. Winter in Taipei, when there is no sun, is colder than Beijing. No matter the cost, I must break all these shackles.

In a month, his New Year's Eve concert will take place as scheduled. Until I figure out a solution, I can no longer appear with him in the public eye.

At the start of the new year, I need to finalize the company structure, contact a new agent, and become independent as soon as possible. The new album also needs to be released soon. As for my parents…

My phone rang; just from the ringtone, I knew it was my mom calling.

"Have you returned to Taipei?"

"Yes."

"Make sure to visit your grandma more often. Her health has been very poor recently. Your dad and I are coming to Taipei tomorrow to be with her."

"Is it that serious?"

"A stroke. It's not fatal, but she may never be able to stand up again," she said in a hoarse voice.

"Alright, I understand. I'll go over this afternoon."

I walked out of the coffee shop and saw the Japanese-style residence on Zhongxiao East Road, surrounded by tall buildings. My grandmother was old, but I had never considered the possibility that she might one day be gone. I used to think that if I were as wealthy and respected as I am now, I would have more freedom. If I were as strong as Ye Xi, I would fear nothing.

It wasn't until years after my grandmother passed away that I understood that Ye Xi's strength wasn't because he worked hard, but because he was loved. The only strength I had left also came from the small warmth my grandparents gave me in my childhood. For a long time, under the lies of masculinity, I hid that warmth from my childhood, and the little strength I had grew weaker and weaker. In my grandmother's final years, I found myself on the verge of collapse, suppressing my fragility and making many inconceivable choices.

That afternoon, I walked to my grandmother's bedside and saw nurses gathered around her. She lay on the bed, her body nearly sinking into the mattress. The faint rise and fall of her chest were the only signs that she was still alive. I stood there in a daze, watching the medical staff come and go. After half an hour, she opened her eyes, and I snapped back to reality, moving closer to her and holding her hand tightly. I gently brushed away the white hair that had fallen across her forehead with my fingers. She seemed to recognize me and struggled to lift her arm, but it hovered in mid-air before falling back down. I held her hand again and smiled, saying, "It's okay, Grandma, just rest. I'm here. Mom and Dad will be here tomorrow too."

She understood and nodded.

I sat down beside her, opened my laptop, and looked at my work schedule. I called Zhang Hongsheng to cancel my plans for the next week. He told me he had already received a call from my mom. I felt a bit annoyed—I was tired of my mom arranging every little detail of my life. But now was not the time. Looking at the elderly woman before me, I slowly hung up the phone.

"Xi, I may need to stay in Taipei for another week. My grandmother is seriously ill. After that, I have to go to Nanjing to prepare for the New Year's Eve concert. I won't have time to be with you before the New Year," I slowly wrote in a message to Ye Xi.

"Okay, I hope your grandmother recovers soon. My heart aches for you," he replied quickly.

I didn't tell him anything about the conversation with Zhang Hongsheng and the agency, nor about Bai Jingrui and He Tiantian. Everything had happened so suddenly, without any preparation. Fortunately, a week later, my grandmother's condition stabilized. My mother's lectures started up again.

On Monday, when I returned to the house from the studio, she was waiting for me in the living room, alone—Dad wasn't there.

"What is really going on between you and Ye Xi?" She finally had the chance to question me. There was a certain triumph in her tone, as if she had caught hold of something she could use to control me.

"As you've heard. As you've seen," I no longer wanted to hide anything.

"It seems your Mandarin has improved; now you're speaking to me in four-character phrases. And God? Have you abandoned Him?" When she mentioned the word "God," she suddenly jumped up and threw a cup at me, as if God was the cup I had discarded. It hit my knee, bounced off to the floor, and shattered.

"You're not my son, you're a child of Satan!" she began to sob, but not hysterically. Then, she suddenly walked over to me, hugged me, and said, "Child, please tell Ye Xi it's over. Never see him again. Come back to our family. God will forgive you."

"I'm sure you've already heard about those things," I laughed at her hypocritical demeanor. "You never used to say anything before."

"I told you long ago: it's fine to have fun, but don't take it seriously. Sooner or later, you have to get married and have children. We are the Yan family, a prominent name. Just look at your grandmother—do you think you are doing right by her?"

When she mentioned my grandmother, I was at a loss for words. My eyes even began to mist over.

"Good child," she said, noticing my tears. She hugged me and patted my shoulder. "I heard Miss Bai is back in Taiwan too. She's a good girl; you should spend more time with her."

Fear surged in me again. The distance between the abstract and the concrete made me feel immense terror. The love and hatred I felt for my family terrified me. I loathed my mother's worldliness, their pragmatism, their instability, and even their suffering. I knew very little about our family's past, but the unrest in my heart made me understand that the past was closely connected to me. It had given me a childhood that was sometimes warm, sometimes wandering, sometimes joyful, and sometimes painful. This background had set the tone for my life. Both Ye Xi and music were like ivory towers I built for myself. I only wanted to escape the pressure my family imposed on me through a sanctuary of my own imagination. But if I were to truly choose him, the real him, would it only lead to another tragedy?

My mother and I stood in the middle of the living room. She held me tightly, while I stood stiffly. Neither of us could say a word. We were both silent in our tears.