Chapter 14: Something Moved
On stage, Fu Qian walked steadily in her pristine white wedding gown, gracefully accompanying the beautiful wedding march toward her future husband. In front of all the witnesses, Liang Zhiting lifted Fu Qian’s white veil. They exchanged rings and bowed their heads to kiss.
For that one second, the hall erupted with deafening applause and screams. But in this boiling pot of noise, my heart was torn apart, and I forced a smile.
The wedding procession dragged on endlessly. I had to forcefully tear my eyes away from Liang Zhiting—each second longer felt like torture.
The five-star hotel’s cuisine was exquisite. Probably my last time eating such luxury, but since I was here, I gave in to my hunger and bitterness. The gift money wasn’t going to waste, and I had to distract myself somehow, or I wouldn’t know how I’d last until the end of the ceremony.
I kept my head down, eating like a starving ghost, crunching all the decorative fruits on my plate. I must have looked like someone who hadn’t eaten in eight hundred lifetimes. Sitting beside me was a little boy of five or six, dressed in a tuxedo with a bow tie, looking like a little gentleman. Judging by his clothes, he was obviously a pampered child, raised with great care.
He watched me openly and laughed.
The other guests were indifferent to the food—they were used to it, merely nibbling delicately, all eating very politely. But I, the ravenous outsider, stood out glaringly.
I didn’t bother wondering if the boy’s laughter was mocking or derisive. Ignoring is one thing, but that didn’t mean I’d tolerate his impolite behavior.
I glared at him sternly, stabbed a piece of medium-rare bloody steak with my fork, and bit into it. The soft red meat exploded with juice. Blood spattered instantly stained my teeth. I bared my teeth and gave him a faint smile.
His expression changed immediately. The smile on his mouth faded, and he hurriedly turned away, not daring to look at me anymore.
I pulled out a tissue, held it to my mouth, and spat out the chewed meat.
Damn it, that really tasted terrible.
When my stomach was about to burst, the waiter brought more drinks. The labels were in a foreign language I couldn’t read. I didn’t care—I drank without counting and didn’t mind getting drunk. Actually, drinking was better, so I could stop thinking and not feel pain.
Today was all about indulgence.
…As expected, I ended up quite drunk.
The waiter woke me while I was passed out face-down on the table. I had no idea when I had fallen asleep.
My glasses sat crookedly on my nose. I fixed them and looked up. The hall that was packed just moments ago was almost empty. The wedding was over.
I must have really slept deeply for a long time.
My cheeks were burning from the alcohol. I rubbed them vigorously and stood, supporting myself on the chair. The moment I stood, I felt dizzy and nearly collapsed. A waiter helped me up, and I thanked him before heading out.
It was time to go home.
The feeling of being drunk was terrible. The world spun wildly in front of me. I held onto the wall and staggered slowly down the corridor. The decorative flowers along the hallway were torn apart by my grasp; colorful petals scattered on the floor. The fragrant juice stained my fingers.
When I could no longer grasp any petals, I finally reached the elevator.
There, I saw Fu Qian dressed casually again, with Liang Zhiting standing beside her, and another woman—a woman in a red dress.
My vision couldn’t focus; all I could see was that red hem.
“You’re drunk. You can’t drive. I’ll call the driver for you,” Fu Qian said to the woman.
“No trouble, I’ll call a chauffeur,” said the woman.
“It’s late. It’s not safe for you as a woman,” Liang Zhiting said.
The woman lowered her head, tucked a curl behind her ear softly. “It’s fine. I can take care of myself. The hotel where I’m staying isn’t far.”
Fu Qian said, “You flew such a long way for my wedding. We’ve been friends all these years; of course we’ll take care of you.” She tugged Liang Zhiting’s sleeve. “How about this—you take Qiaoqiao to the hotel first, then come back to pick me up. I’ll wait here.”
Fang Qiaoqiao looked silently at Liang Zhiting.
Liang Zhiting hesitated, stroked Fu Qian’s hair. “Alright, you wait here. Don’t wander off, understand?”
Fu Qian smiled wryly, “I know, I’m not a child. I’ll drive safely.”
“Good.”
Just as Liang Zhiting was leaving with the women, he suddenly noticed me standing foolishly a few steps away.
“Nan Li?”
All three looked at me. I wanted to straighten up, but my limbs were weak; I could only huddle like a curled shrimp.
Liang Zhiting asked, “You drunk too? How are you getting home?”
“I…” My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat. “By taxi.”
Liang Zhiting shook his car keys at me. “We’re going the same way. Let’s go together. I’ll take you.”
I blinked tired, blurry eyes sluggishly. I tried to speak, but my tongue stuck and words wouldn’t come.
Fu Qian spoke up: “Good idea. Come with Zhiting. Look at you—you can barely stand.”
So, dazed and confused, I got in Liang Zhiting’s car.
I heard Liang Zhiting whispering to Fang Qiaoqiao in the front passenger seat. Half-asleep, the car stopped. Liang Zhiting helped me up from the backseat. My feet barely touched the ground before I collapsed against him.
He wrapped his arm around my waist and supported me. I steadied myself against a nearby utility pole.
“Which building do you live in? I’ll take you in.”
I was quite drunk, but I knew deep down: he must not step inside my home. I shook my head. “No…no need. I can manage.”
He didn’t insist. “Alright, but send me a message when you get home.”
I lowered my head and nodded.
After Liang Zhiting’s car left, I leaned against a wall for a moment before thinking to head back.
Staggering a few steps, I looked up toward a direction.
Toward my apartment building.
From where I stood, that distance only allowed me to see a corner of my balcony; inside the room was pitch black, nothing visible.
...
Could it be standing there, watching?
Dragging my tired feet, after twenty minutes I reached my door. I fumbled a few times with the key before it slipped in. Click, the door opened.
I lost strength and fell forward into a chest that was hard and solid.
Its arms wrapped my waist and lifted me, like holding a little chick, effortlessly pulling me upright. I wondered to myself: this thing’s strength really has grown a lot.
It supported me into the bedroom, where I collapsed onto the bed, eyes closed, nearly fainting. After a while, a door closing sound echoed in the quiet room. My mind cleared for a second. I suddenly realized: I hadn’t closed the door when I came in!
Had it gone out!?
I snapped back a bit of strength and scrambled out of the bedroom. At the entrance, the doll stood by the door with two fingers on the doorknob.
“Wait…”
I hadn’t even finished scolding when it removed its fingers from the knob, turned, and walked toward me.
…What? What’s going on? Did it close the door? Can it close doors now?
If it can close doors, can it open them too?
Or, was it just the wind?
My head ached terribly. I couldn’t think.
It reached me, pushed me onto the bed. I didn’t resist and lay down as it planned.
I felt I was about to fall asleep, so hastily grabbed its wrist, struggling to keep my drooping eyelids open, warning it:
“Don’t… don’t go out.”
After warning, worried I went to the switch behind its ear to turn it off once and for all. But its finger accurately caught my wrist mid-air and gripped it. I missed the small round button.
It murmured, “Not… going out.”
“I'll stay with you.”
I had no strength left to resist. Thinking it had stayed with me so long, it shouldn’t cause trouble, I let go of the attempt to turn it off.
I took out my phone and messaged Liang Zhiting: “I’m home.”
No reply.
Of course, he’s busy with his wedding today and couldn’t reply to some nobody like me.
I wouldn’t get any message from him.
My phone slipped beside my pillow as I turned over. The photo frame on my bedside table caught my eyes—it held a picture of Liang Zhiting.
Looking longer, something welled up at my eye corners, absorbed silently by the pillow.
Tears dripped steadily, soaking my cheeks.
I sobbed quietly.
The doll knelt beside the bed, facing me. After a moment, it lowered its neck, licking my tears off, reaching my lips.
I opened my mouth in response, soon losing all urge to cry.
Alcohol warming my body, I hugged it tighter than ever before, whining, unwilling to let go.
It climbed onto the bed, diligently kissing me. Half-opening my eyes, I mumbled, “You married… someone else.” My voice trembled. “How could you be so cruel?”
I turned my head. In my sight was the photo on the bedside table.
“Do you, do you love me?” I didn’t even know who I was asking—probably Liang Zhiting in the photo, but it wouldn’t answer.
I choked out a disappointed sob. A cool hand tilted my cheek gently aside, and I finally saw the doll’s face.
Our noses touched; I smelled the alcohol in my breath.
“Love you.”
It seemed to say that word.
Could a doll understand what it meant?
I reached out, brushed its near eyes with my fingertip.
Maybe it was just a drunken hallucination—but whatever. I kissed it and said, “Then you can only love me.”
It wasn’t a hallucination, because it answered me again: “I only love… you.” The strange pauses and steady tone felt like an obsessive promise.
The room was dark; silver moonlight spilled through the window, draping over it.
It really was beautiful.
I embraced this perfect piece of art made just for me, kissed its cheek, pecked its nose, and took off my glasses. Suddenly, everything blurred, and something stirred.
Quickly, too fast to notice.
A deep black, mixed with dark blue glazed glass spheres.
Two glass eyes.
—Its eyes. They seemed to have moved.
My heart skipped a beat. Rubbing my eyes hard, I looked again. The two artificial eyes were still embedded in its sockets—unchanged.
I must be drunk and delirious.
Exhausted, I lay down on the bed. It lay close to me in the usual nightly position, holding me. I found a comfortable spot in its arms to sleep.
Just before drifting off, I felt the doll move slightly. I heard a faint clicking sound from the bedside table.
Unconsciously, I struggled to look toward the noise. The wooden frame holding Liang Zhiting’s photo had somehow been knocked over.
Having held on for so long, my heavy sleepiness crashed over me like a tidal wave. I tried to steady the fallen frame but lacked the strength. The world went black, and I lost consciousness completely.
0 Comments