Are the issues of survival and societal order only able to be resolved in doomsday myths?
The candlelight was hazy, and it was as if the Wen Qingying in front of him was separated by a panel of matte glass, no, by a layer of indifferent moonlight.
Wen Qingying was silent as he closed his eyes and made a wish. Tao Ling looked at him straight on, and suddenly such a question appeared in his head. The question had nothing to do with the present situation, but at this moment, Tao Ling felt himself dissociating to the world beyond.
If doomsday does occur, he was willing to immediately die in order to escape this chaotic world, a life with no light in sight. With a bright and positive attitude, he would break himself free from the clutches of unnecessary survival and unnecessary order.
But there was no doomsday, and besides, this world has Wen Qingying.
The moment that Wen Qingying opened his eyes, he saw Tao Ling’s eyelashes tremble. It was as if he got frightened, then calmed down, leaving behind only this slight movement that was gone in a flash.
Was he zoning out? What did he think about?
Wen Qingying brought his hand under the table and gently squeezed Tao Ling’s left hand with his right.
Under Wen Qingying’s gaze, Tao Ling finally put the messy thoughts behind him. He felt that he himself wasn’t far from going crazy, thinking about doomsday instead of the beauty in front of him.
On the surface, he smiled like usual, and then pointed at the candle, indicating for Wen Qingying to blow it out.
Wen Qingying used his fingers to count one, two, three. On three, the two of them extinguished that little bit of light.
“Happy birthday, Wen Qingying. May you find the meaning in living.” Tao Ling said clearly in the dark.
After a few seconds, the lights inside were turned back on.
“This time, we’re actually gonna eat, eat! Let’s eat!” Tao Ling looked a little excited.
Wen Qingying laughed and opened a can of alcohol for him.
They ate silently, and, before he knew it, two cans of alcohol were already emptied, and the wine was opened as well. Already feeling slightly dizzy, Tao Ling began speaking without expecting a response.
“Wen Qingying, you’re so young. Twenty-four years old. Let me think, what did I do when I was 24? Oh yeah, I was a third year graduate student.”
He clinked cups with Wen Qingying. Wen Qingying looked like he hadn’t been drinking at all, his complexion normal as he seriously looked at him.
Tao Ling chuckled, “24 is just right. At that time, Tao Jun, that bastard, was still alive. What a joke. At that time, there was a period where I worked on my master’s thesis to the point of collapse. If he wanted to bring me out, I would curse at him. One day, I said that I wanted to die. I was just joking. Who hadn’t said that line once or twice while working on their thesis? And the result, fuck, he dragged me to the rooftop of his workplace, 22 floors, and told me to jump…”
“He said that once I jumped, he would definitely immediately forget me, and my existence would completely disappear.”
“He was too vicious, wasn’t he?” Tao Ling poured himself a cup, then whispered, “Let me tell you a secret, his birthday is also in a few days. But the dead don’t celebrate birthdays. It’s too unfair, he didn’t let me die but ended up dying himself.”
After saying this, there was a moment of silence. Tao Ling sighed, then smiled as he had always done, and said, “Sorry, sorry. It’s your birthday, but I had to say those things. Good thing you can’t hear… Sorry I didn’t mean it like that… But it’s been a long time since I had a meal with someone else at home. It feels too wonderful.”
The glass was empty again. As Tao Ling reached for the bottle to pour more, Wen Qingying suddenly raised his hand, covering Tao Ling’s with his palm to stop him.
Tao Ling’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced down at Wen Qingying’s hand and, after a moment, reached out with his other hand to gently pry open Wen Qingying’s fingers one by one.
The process was long, with their palms pressing against each other’s hands, neither willing to be the first to move. In the end, it was as if Wen Qingying had a sudden realization and slightly loosened his grip. Tao Ling finally managed to lift Wen Qingying’s hand away and place it on the table, where it stayed still for a long while.
Their hands remained together, almost as if they were holding hands.
After a long while, Tao Ling belatedly realized that their action was inappropriate. He discreetly withdrew, knowing he was somewhat drunk.
While he could still type, he pulled over his phone and wrote, “It’s too late.”
Too late… then what?
Tao Ling frowned, his fingers paused on the phone screen, forgetting what he wanted to say.
Wen Qingying watched him for a moment before picking up the bottle again, not to stop him from drinking more, but to refill their glasses.
Tao Ling gave a thumbs up, got up to fetch two more bottles from a nearby cabinet, and slammed them on the table with a loud ‘thud,’ declaring loudly, “We’re not leaving until we’re drunk!”
As the night wore on, Tao Ling became increasingly dazed. He lay on the table for a while, then suddenly remembered something and stumbled up to pull Wen Qingying.
Wen Qingying finally showed signs of drunkenness but still appeared much more sober than Tao Ling. He didn’t resist at all, just following Tao Ling’s lead and getting up to walk with him.
Hand in hand, they walked to the study. At that moment, neither felt the gesture was inappropriate; they even tightened their grip on each other’s hands, afraid to let go.
Tao Ling, leading the way, said, “I’ll show you the Chinese roses you gave me. It’s still alive.”
Once in the study, Tao Ling finally released Wen Qingying.
He fumbled to turn on the light and walked to the balcony to open the French window. Wen Qingying followed closely, and when he saw Tao Ling opening the window, he was startled and hastily grabbed his wrist.
Tao Ling struggled a bit but couldn’t break free. He laughed so hard that he almost couldn’t breathe. He turned to look at Wen Qingying and pointed to the balcony, indicating for him to look outside.
On the edge of the balcony was the small Chinese rose plant. It was nearly winter, yet its leaves were still lush.
Tao Ling, pleased with himself, said, “Impressive, right?”
Wen Qingying smiled, understanding his meaning, and released his grip, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Tao Ling took a few steps forward, standing by the French window to look at the night. When he turned back, he saw Wen Qingying slightly bent over, looking at a wooden rack in the corner of the room.
On the rack was a glass jar filled with broken pieces of a flower vase.
Tao Ling wanted to walk over to him, but as he lifted his foot, he tripped over the edge of the carpet and stumbled, falling directly forward.
Wen Qingying took a step forward and caught him, causing Tao Ling to crash into his arms.
After a few seconds, Tao Ling rubbed his face against Wen Qingying’s shoulder.
He felt the warmth of his chest, and his mind was a muddled mess. He knew he should move away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
In the silence, as if searching for something, and also because he was reluctant to leave the warmth, he inched closer. It was like every night when he found the blanket not warm enough; at this moment, he wanted to be tightly wrapped up.
To escape the world.
Wen Qingying stood stiffly, his hands on Tao Ling’s back, maintaining a respectful distance. It wasn’t until he realized Tao Ling was silently seeking a hug that he gently wrapped his arms around him.
“So you’re looking at this,” Tao Ling said with a smile, his gaze passing over Wen Qingying’s shoulder to the glass jar. “This was Tao Jun’s vase. It broke. I picked up the pieces and put them in this jar…”
“The jar is filled with broken pieces of the moon. Even if you pick them up, you can’t piece them back together.”
“I have a jar of broken moons,” he said.
Wen Qingying tightened his embrace, his hands fully splayed across Tao Ling’s back, as if trying to envelop him completely. Tao Ling’s forehead rested against Wen Qingying’s neck, his breath hot against his skin.
The autumn moon shone brightly, peeking into the study from the balcony. A few rays of cold, white frost tried to enter but were ruthlessly dispelled by the warm light inside the room.
Or perhaps, they melded together as one.
“Wen Qingying,” Tao Ling continued to mumble drunkenly, “I don’t have the moon anymore. My ge died… Ever since he died, I don’t have any more moonlight.”
“I actually think living isn’t that meaningful, but I… I’m afraid to die. If I die, no one will remember him.”
“Last time, you asked me something, about the relationship between studying religion and living life. I really… I’ve never lived a good life.”
“Wen Qingying, Wen Qingying, your name sounds so nice… Wen Qingying,” Tao Ling’s final whisper before completely succumbing to the drunken stupor was, “Happy birthday.”
The person in his arms went completely still. After a few minutes, Wen Qingying lightly patted Tao Ling’s arm twice, with no response. Confirming that he had indeed fallen asleep standing up, Wen Qingying couldn’t help but smile.
But the smile lasted only a moment; the curve of his lips quickly straightened into a thin line.
He stood there quietly, supporting Tao Ling, feeling his body’s warmth, which was incomparably real. But due to the alcohol, his vision was blurry, making this embrace feel like a dream.
In the silent moonlight, with the world around them hushed, Wen Qingying lowered his head and placed a kiss on top of Tao Ling’s head.
