The girl liked ice water. Favorite attire was white cotton dresses and barefoot sneakers. Had long hair. Has dark, bright eyes. Doesn't wear makeup. had a crush on a handsome boy in her class when she was 12. Favorite man in high school was Ernest Hemingway.
Ann: Do you know how Hemingway died
Him: No
Ann: He shoved a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger
Him: Hmmm
Ann: And then his whole skull lifted off
Him: It was grueling
Ann: It wasn't grueling
Ann: Simply his favorite the way it was.
Him: the way you liked him?
Ann: And and and
Ann: Yes. I've often wondered how one should deal with oneself decisively.
Ann: But life has worn us half to death.
He wasn't so sure such a girl could exist. He had met her online. He hadn't seen her in person. In real life, there didn't seem to be such interesting girls. Her thoughts sometimes made him suspect she was a man. But she was cute. She had her own way of talking. He liked it all the same.
That late night met up with Vianne again online. He said, come out and meet up will you, we'll go to Haagen-Dazs. She had told him she liked ice cream. She said, is it Isetan on Nanjing Road, there is one there. He said take your pick. He always believed she was in the same city as him. While chatting, she had the good sense to talk to him about the new KENZO perfume. She told him she liked the subway in Shanghai. While waiting on the platform, she often had a desire. Want to jump very suddenly, and then in the subway whistling when, and then struggle to climb the steps. She says she likes this fantasy of hidden fear and despair.
Do you like to see the sea. She said. The sea is one of the clearest and warmest tears of the earth. He laughed at her there. But Shanghai has only a dirty Huangpu River.
He knew very well that she would not easily agree to come out and meet him. There was a time when Shanghai netizens were used to this kind of party. 10 or so people went out drinking and playing BOWLING together. there were more men. Of course he also dated girls, and IRC was the best place to meet strangers. He has met almost 20 girls he met online. Some of them had dinner together and then broke up, never to be seen again. There were exceptions. For example, his ex-girlfriend, Lace, was one of the prettiest girls he'd ever met online. The flirty affair lasted six months.
That swift hunter-like curiosity and desire to conquer later felt its cruelty. There was a long silence. Like an overeater with an empty stomach. He just asked her that. Without any expectations.
Chatting was good too. Sitting barefoot on a big wicker chair. Sometimes taking a blue crumpled blanket over shoulders and knees. Halfway through the day, I'd make another pot of coffee. Often they would knock something over again in a daze because their legs were numb. Nearly midnight, they went off the grid. The usual count of one to three, and then together they keyed in QUIT, a moment of warmth he needed to share. The feeling sinks him.
But he believed he was awake. Sober to plunge into the virtual and amorous ecstasy of the internet.
He began to miss her. On the subway station at the end of the day, thinking about some of the lovely details of late-night conversations. Her wickedly wisecracking accent. Those obscure, simple phrases. He hadn't met such an icy, biting girl. Once, they talked about love online.
Ann: Remember the first time you made love to a girl.
Him: Yes
Ann: What I remember most
Him: The tears in her eyes, flowing onto my fingers, were warm.
Ann: Your fingers have since lost their virginity.
Him: and and
Ann: and and
Him: why do you ask
Ann: to find out if there is still love in your heart
Him: maybe there is still ten percent left. I feel like it's about to rot.
Ann: People who don't believe in love will be more likely to be unhappy than usual
He: What about you
Ann: Sometimes my heart is full.
Sometimes it's empty.
He squeezed through the crowds of people pouring into the subway car from work. Slightly swaying, the pale lights of the car illuminated the dark tunnel. He looked around for a moment. Suddenly it felt like she might be right next to him. It was any one of a group of strangers.
Many of the young girls in the carriage were Miss OFFICE. A uniform of suits and elaborate makeup. But he had a feeling she wouldn't be in that category. She seemed to be jobless online. The scattered look of doing nothing. And often showing up late at night. He figured if she were here, she'd recognize him. A man fixated on his lifestyle. Wearing a cotton shirt and lace-up suede shoes. Flat hair. With grass-scented cologne. Maybe she's laughing in the dark. But she doesn't come up and say hello to him. She's just laughing in the dark.
Because he started paying attention, he noticed the girl. Every morning, she was on the same platform as him, waiting for a subway in a different direction. For a short while, she was there with the same aloof look as he was, with a bit of lethargy. She wore wide, washed-out jeans and a black T-shirt. A large string of dark silver bracelets around her thin wrists. Her hair was dark and rich. Bare feet in hemp sandals with thin straps. She likes to carry a large backpack diagonally across her body. Sometimes she pulls a pair of headphones from there and plugs them into her ears. Her face looked even more detached and aloof as she listened to the music.
He always wondered if it was Paganini she was listening to. Sometimes he thought he should just walk up to her out of the blue and say, Vianne, have a cup of coffee. If it had been her. She would look up at him wickedly and innocently, with her usual seemingly impish smile. If it wasn't her, then she would turn her face away. But he wanted to set aside more time to look at her. Leisurely and sure. This was a game where he could control the ending. At the end of the week, the company went to a bar to party. Joe came up to him and asked him to dance. Joe said, remember my lips. She smiled at him sideways in the shadows. When he hugged her, he realized that she was already drunk. john came over and took Joe's arm, "you're drunk, I'll take you home". All the colleagues in the company know about JOHN's crush on Joe. Although Joe had a photographer boyfriend who worked in England.
Jo pushed JOHN's hand away. Her rosy, drunken cheeks lay on his shoulder. She looked at him with bright eyes. Lyn, dance with me. He looked around at an embarrassed JOHN. he dragged her out of the bar. It is already midnight. In the cramped apartment elevator, she tilts her face up again and asks him if he remembers her lips. He looks at her expressionlessly. Then suddenly he pushed her back against the elevator door. He kisses her roughly. I haven't made love in a long time, she says softly. It's been two years since he left for England. I haven't made love to any man. The lipstick on her lips began to decay. Like petals burned in the dark. Uncontrollable. He couldn't remember how many times he'd made love to her. Finally falling into a trance-like state of slumber.
He awoke to her touch. He wanted her again. Her face twisted with a pained and poignant expression. She whimpered and begged him. He pulled her long hair up. Tell me you won't fall in love with me. He heard his own numb voice. In shame and pleasure, she lifted her face, blooming like a flower. I won't bring you any trouble. Lin. You are free. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.
His fingers twitched gently. The temperature of the tears in the darkness was beyond his memory.
An accident at a subway station at dusk. As the subway roared by, a middle-aged man suddenly took a flying leap onto the tracks. The sound of emergency brakes and screams froze in the air. Caught in the chaos of the crowd, he looked over to see where the accident had occurred. Bright red blood was in jets. He saw a pale hand gently spread out. Nothing was grasped.
As he pushed his way out of the crowd, he saw the girl in black, headphones in her ears. Standing there at a distance. As if nothing had happened. He walked towards the exit lane. He suddenly felt an empty burning sensation in his stomach. The sunlight pouring in at the mouth of the passageway made it impossible for him to open his eyes. He turned back around again. Late at night, he and Vianne had just discussed the end of life. He might never see her again. He saw the girl approaching. He waited calmly for her to come up to him. Then he said, Vianne, have a cup of coffee.
The girl was wearing a black, turtleneck, sleeveless cotton T-shirt that day. A large string of silver bracelets on her wrist made a crisp clattering sound. The corners of her eyes were coated with silver-white glitter. It was the girl's most IN makeup this summer. There was a light brown mole of tears under the corner of her left eye. She lifted her face to look at him. She didn't smile. But my name is VIVIAN. she said.
Her voice was a little sandy. It was silent.
He took her to the store where he bought his coffee every morning.HAPPY CAFE.He asked her, what kind of coffee do you like. She said, CAPPUCOINO. and his flavor was Italian ESPRESSO. he didn't mind the small difference. The man must be dead, he said. The girl faintly ran her fingers over the white porcelain cup that held the coffee. Death was a very common thing. Maybe he had just lost his job. Maybe he was facing divorce. Maybe he was duped. Maybe he was simply jaded.
The girl put her headphones back in her bag. If he survived that moment, she said, he could have a nice cup of coffee.
VIVIAN works as a graphic designer at an advertising agency. They had a few casual dates. Often it's at HAPPY CAFE, and she calls him the coffee man. Because he can't live without this brooding, bitter liquid.
He finally figured out the music she was listening to. It wasn't Paganini. Instead, it was BEN's bass saxophone.
She was a unique girl. Had that usual look of indifference on her face. When she accompanied him for coffee, she said very little. Sometimes he covered his hand in her fingers. He gently stroked that part of the skin of her fingertips. She then lifted her eyes and looked at him with a smirk.
He took her to Haagen-Dazs. Took her to Makabe, the Japanese coffee shop on Huating Road. Took her to Timepassage. all the places he had talked about to Vianne online. In the murky light, he looked at the brown mole of tears glistening in the corner of her eye. He didn't want to kiss her easily. She insisted he had to call her VIVIAN. she said, I don't want to be the person you think I am. You're actually a very selfish man. You know that.
Maybe. He thought. Selfish men wear cotton shirts and lace-up suede shoes for 29 years. kenzo's grassy perfume is 500ML. he's used to feeling like himself. And the world around him is far from his dream. He met Vian again online. He thought of the subway girl's white fingers, gently resting on a coffee cup.
Him: If tomorrow was the end, would you meet me
Ann: No
Him: Why
Ann: It feels like we might be passing each other every day, or maybe we'll never meet in our lives
Ann: It's a way of letting the world keep some of its mystery.
And we need rules for adult games.
Once or twice a week he goes to Joe's apartment. If Joe called him. Joe was well aware of their current situation. Until her boyfriend returned from England, they were the filler of each other's loneliness and desire. And, of course, they could separate at any time.
She made him dinner. Sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night and saw this sleeping man beside her. His face was handsome. The usually cold expression looked warm in sleep. Like an innocent child. Men are lovely moments when they are eating and sleeping. Replying to the sweet vulnerable side of their humanity.
She stroked him gently. She knew their bodies had been obsessed for too long. So the souls were getting further and further apart. Or perhaps she had simply never mastered his soul all along. She remembered the way he chewed on cherry blossom petals in the elevator doorway. His body smelled faintly of displaced flowers. His eyes looked melancholy. When a girl feels she can't quite get to know the man, she loves him. Joe was the same.
Joe realized she no longer had the option of being strong. Try asking him if there are children. Joe looked carefully into his eyes. His eyes were cold. Take care of yourself, he said. This is something that shouldn't happen.
But. Joe stroked his fingers weakly. What if it had. He looked at her without moving. Don't get you and me into trouble, he said. Please remember.VIVIAN. he called her softly. Watching the gentle expression of her sideways questioning face. On the empty platform of the subway, the sound of the subway whistling disappeared far away. He believed it was a game she was playing with him. Only now the roles in control in this game were beginning to shift.
If she admitted she was Vianne. Then she was. If she doesn't admit it. Then she was at least VIVIAN. in the late night chat, he looked into a monitor and heard his fingers tapping on the keyboard. The sound of loneliness. It was like blood churning in his veins. Her words appear sentence by sentence. Sentence by sentence it vanished. At any moment it was doom.
They start having goodnight kisses when they say goodbye. She puts an * on it. At the time he caught a cold. When he told her he felt a little cold. She said, sleep well, be good. Then as QUIT is keyed in. Vivian was the girl within his reach. At least part of him fantasized about her. Love was just such an illusion. To make him forget for a moment his own desires in Jo. Those shameless cold desires.
He said I want to show you how CAPPUCIONO is made. Pour dark-roasted coffee into a mug. Add granulated sugar and a tablespoon of whipped cream. Sprinkle in some lemon slices. Orange slices work too. Then cinnamon.VIVIAN smiles. You could work at CAFE. So professional. VIVIAN: He said, "When I graduated from college, I wanted nothing more than to work at a bar bartending and making coffee. The night is silent and disorienting. It was his favorite time of day. Pretty girls sit alone in a corner of the bar smoking. The strong aroma of coffee intertwined with tobacco and perfume. The record played Paganini, which murders the mind. There was no end to the feeling. It can go deep.
Then sleep during the day. Cut off from the world under daylight.
But reality did not allow him to live such a scattered life. He traveled through the city of steel and concrete every day against the sunlight. I'm a man who likes the shadows. He said. He gently squinted in the sunlight.
The world once again forced him to appear naked in daylight. The light seemed to be able to make him gray in an instant. The burning sensation was so painful. When Jo told him at the elevator door that she had broken up with her boyfriend in England and that she was having a baby. All the company colleagues waiting for the elevator were there. Not unaware of the hidden agenda between him and her. But Joe just had to let them know out loud. He was responsible for her. He had to be responsible for her.JOHN came over to him with a complicated expression and said, Lin let us have the wedding candy early. His coworkers laughed and started to flirt.
He stood motionless. His eyes stung and swooned. He felt his disgust in the forced emotion.
It was Joe's 24th birthday.
It was unusually dark that dusk. He did his best to control himself. After walking out of the subway car, he went to HAPPY CAFE to buy hot coffee to drink. Jo called his cell phone. She said, "Come over tonight. He was silent. Women start to become stupid when they fall in love. He was tired of her stupidity. He heard her crying there. She said, if you don't come over I will die for you. She hung up the phone.
He had never thought of marriage. It was ludicrous. Joe had broken the rules of this game of theirs.
I won't bring you any trouble. She'd said that. Then she got bent out of shape. He began to miss Vianne. He hadn't met her online for five days. Her whereabouts were uncertain. It was an unlucky day. He thought. He would tell her online that I was unhappy. Vianne. And then Vianne would type a question mark. In their usual taciturn way. She always left enough room for each other. She was so icy.
In the evening he waited for Vianne online. His coffee got a little colder. His eyelids fluttered. He had a feeling she might not show up tonight. He was crushed by the loneliness inside him. He began to think of Jo's warm body again. Her body was all he needed. Not all of it.At eleven o'clock he turned off his computer. He put on a cotton shirt, gray socks and lace-up suede shoes. The street lights were bleak on the empty street. He stopped a TEXI and went straight to Joe's apartment.
The elevator was still cramped and stuffy. Reminded him of that wild night. Joe's rosy, drunken face blooming like a flower in his hand. Somewhere along the line, they were as lonely and so needed each other. But he didn't love her. He still had ten percent love in his heart. But not of this world. The room was dark when Joe opened the door. They stared at each other in the darkness for a few seconds in silence. Then he closed the door with his backhand. Like a beast silent and rough, he toppled her against the wall.
Why was the pleasure so short and fleeting. There was confused helplessness within him as he left her body. There was only this moment without loneliness. No waking awareness of the world. Only there was no despair. Then Joe turned on the light. He blocked his eyes in disgust. He says, I hate the light, you know. She said, "We should talk about clarity. There was nothing to talk about. He lies down on the bed tiredly and closes his eyes. I'm tired, I'm going to sleep. Jo stubbornly rolls him over. Her eyes are red and swollen. She really isn't beautiful anymore. She says, I love you so much. Lin. Her eyes look at him hollow and sad. Don't say such nonsense. He says. You can marry JOHN, marry any man who wants to marry you. But that's all I can give you.
It's as if that's all I need in you. Forgive me for being so realistic. What I need and what I give must be equal. Joe stopped talking. He turned off the light. The room returned to darkness.
It was three in the morning when he woke up. There was no Joe beside him. The wind was blowing in through the open window and it was cold. He turned on the light. The room was silent and empty. There was only a large black and white photograph of Jo on the wall. Her boyfriend had taken them for her before he left for England. Jo's beautiful face has a fragile, innocent smile. In reality she was not his equal. Nor was she his equal. Only VIVIAN can play a game with him***. Because of each other's cold patience.
And Jo is fragile and naive. She needs warmth. Needs promises and eternity. Pushing open the bathroom door, he saw Jo lying in a bathtub filled with cold water. The water in the tub had been stained a deep red with blood. Blood dripped from her dangling arms onto the tiles. Her face was very still up there. Like a wilted white flower. He crouched down and vomited violently at the pungent smell of blood.
From the Public Security Bureau for the last time. He waited wearily at the elevator door of his company. There were no thoughts. No more feeling either. He was the only one in the elevator. As it slowly rose, he leaned against the elevator wall and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Suddenly he heard a gentle voice. Calling him softly from there. Remember my lips. He opened his eyes throbbingly. The elevator was still rising with a slight sway. Cold sweat on his forehead trickled down his eyes.
I really can't love you, he said softly. I'm sorry.
The doors opened. There was no sound. He calmed himself and took it in stride.
The company was not staying. When he came out of the general manager's office, he saw all his coworkers standing outside in silence looking at him. He walked to his desk expressionlessly and started to pack his things. The sun shines through the floor-to-ceiling glass window, and in the silence he hears the burning sound made by the intense light hitting his face.JOHN blocks the doorway. He says to JOHN, get out of the way.JOHN looks at him.There is no expression in JOHN's eyes. Then JOHN suddenly strikes, a hard punch lands heavily on his face. He smelled the sticky, fishy odor of blood again.
You animal. He heard JOHN's voice forced with grief. He wiped the blood from under his nose with his hand. Walked out in silence.
It was beginning to get cold. The French sycamores in the square shed large, dull yellow leaves in the wind. The crowd was just as noisy. Life went on as usual. He crossed the square and hurried toward the subway station. Walking to the tiny coffee shop in the station, the owner greeted him with a smile. You haven't been here for a long time. That girl in black came to see you a couple of times. A steaming cup of ESPRESSO was placed on the bar. He took a gentle sip. No one knew what had happened to him.
The subway stations flowed with large groups of people every day. But they were all strangers. There was no conversation. There was no comforting. Except for Vivian. Or VIVIAN.
As he finished his third cup of coffee, he saw VIVIAN emerge from the subway car. She hadn't noticed him. She was saying goodbye to a man in his forties. The mediocre-looking but uncommonly well-dressed man casually kissed her on the cheek. Then hurried away. He watches her. She walks towards HAPPY CAFE. She was the same unique girl in the crowd. Black dress, long hair. An air of wildness and mystery. She left enough room for fantasy.
But he saw the real. The real always shows up.
HI. she smiled at him. You seem to have disappeared for a long time.
I killed a man. He said. I'm going to run away. Come with me. He looked at her. Her brown teardrops shimmered flirtatiously in the twilight. Her face was always calm. She was the best behaved of the calm girls he had ever seen. He should have known that such a girl must have had unusual experiences. Her eyes looked at him with a smirk. In that case, I should report you. Some somber blood flowed slowly through his heart.
Don't lie to me, he said. Tell me. The man. She looked up quickly. Her eyes looked at him calmly.
She said, You want to know something. She looked at him calmly. I never wanted to deceive you. If you want to know. I can tell you. It's been 3 years living with that man. He will never get a divorce. But he helps me maintain the material life I want. Why can't you yourself. You have a job and a mind of your own.
Do you think I have what it takes to make a living. She sneered. I have nothing. I just want to live like this. Don't want to be poor. Don't want to die either. He looked at her. He said to himself that everything was normal. It is. The world can have more than enough reasons to create a desire for life. Not wanting to be poor. Not wanting to die. It's just that he feels disappointment in his heart. Just disappointed. Why did you stay with me. He said. He looked at the girl who would drink coffee with him in silence. Thinking of the details of those gentle strokes of her white fingers. He wondered if they had ever loved.
Because you came over and said hello to me the other day. She smiled faintly. I never turn down the encounters life gives me. Not to mention, you are such a handsome
healthy young man. This game could have gone on forever. Warm and mysterious, continuing through a dull and boring life. But he revealed the truth. She was equally fond of shady women.
Okay. I'll go first. She said. She gently stroked his face. Lin, you are the loneliest coffee man at the end of this century. The world has no dreams for you. Nor is there a place for you to hide. The silver bracelet on her wrist slipped down her arm. Revealing a scattered row of red scars on her wrist. Marks left by deep cigarette burns. Miserable. She saw his surprised look. She said. I used to do drugs. The tattoos are still there. I really don't know you. He said. Never understood you.
But why understand. She laughed. We are always alone. Only need companionship. No need to love each other.
He didn't go home and he didn't eat dinner. He walked into the nearest internet cafe. He just wanted to wait for Vianne. Suddenly he had a deep fear. Fear that Vivian would disappear just like Vivian. She was the warmest comfort in his life. He waited for her. 7 o'clock, 8 o'clock, 9 o'clock, 10 o'clock. He waited for that familiar name in IRC. But she never showed up.
With sore eyes open, he asked the owner of the Internet cafe for coffee. Any Paganini records, he said. Want to hear that love scene. The young owner said, no. Only music by U2 and CURE. He didn't say anything more. He sat down in front of the computer again. He only types one line there, Vianne, you're on. Someone opens his window. You're an unfortunate guy, you're in love with her. Another person opened his window and told him, your wait is doomed.
There seemed to be the sound of rain outside. There he was at his computer. His mind went blank. All those nights he had spent with Vianne***. He
had told her about his childhood. His first love. His crippled family. All the darkness and light of his heart. There would never be anyone else who understood him the way she did. But he didn't even know if she was really a girl.
It was almost two in the morning when the owner came to remind him that he was about to close. He didn't have his cell phone with him. What was the number of the pay phone outside the door, he said. The boss told him. Before he exited IRC, he solemnly pleaded with the man there. Please tell the girl I am waiting for to call me. I will wait for her all the time. All the time. He typed in the number and her name.VIVIAN. but I call her Vian.
The sky was dark blue with large piles of gray clouds. He breathed in the cold, crisp early fall air as he walked out of the Internet cafe. Large drops of cold rain hit his face. He walked to a small store nearby that was open 24 hours a day. Bought a pack of cigarettes and eight cans of beer. Then he walked into that pay phone booth. He waited there alone.
The occasional car drove by quickly on the road. But there were already almost no pedestrians. Only the yellow leaves of the sycamore trees fluttered in the wind. He smoked cigarettes. Drinking beer. He felt the warmth of waiting. It was like the comfort Vianne had brought him. At least he didn't feel alone. Even he longed to go on. Two hours passed. The sky began to whiten. He leaned his face against the glass. He cried.
Then the phone suddenly rang.
He picked up the microphone. He heard a rustling voice from the microphone. He said, Vianne, hello. It was a girl's voice. Sweet and clear, with a magnetic quality. A beautiful voice he had not heard before. The girl smiled softly. It's me. He felt his warm tears seep into the corner of his mouth. He sucked on it. The tears tasted salty. He was almost oblivious. He said, Vianne. I finished eight cans of beer and a pack of cigarettes here. It's raining. Why must I call you.
No idea. He said. I just miss you. See me. Vianne. I don't care about appearances. You're so important to me. The girl smiled and said, "It's not that I'm afraid to see you. And I'm not in Shanghai. Then I came over to see you. Vianne. Tell me where you are.
She gave him the name of a city. But she wouldn't tell him the exact address. I won't see you, she said. Why.
Told you the reason before. I've been to Shanghai. Shanghai and Shanghai men will always be my complex. But I'd rather be in a fantasy. You take me to Haagen-Dazs. Take me to Huaihai Road for coffee. Take me to a bar in the West End. There will be no beginning. And there would be no end.
He said, "I know. You need a perfect game. But I'm never the player who can stick it out to the end. The girl said, as long as there is one person who can stick it out to the end. The game will still be perfect. He looked at the raindrops sliding down the glass. The dawn of the city has come. I'm leaving Shanghai soon, he said. Maybe go to Australia.
The girl said, "You can always find me on the internet wherever you are. I am here. Just hear me out for the last word. He said softly. The girl was silent there. Then he turned to the microphone and he said, Thank you, for this night and early morning. Exhausting the last ten percent of my feelings. I finally have nothing.
After getting his visa, he took a day off to go to Vian's city.
That distant seaside town. Thousands of miles away from him in the north.
He finally saw the ocean she used to mention to him online. The vast blue sea. She said that the sea is the clearest and warmest tear of the earth. She loved to see the sea. Then he went shopping. The city has a large number of European-style buildings with red brick spires. The classical flavor is tinged with melancholy. The streets are full of bright, dry northern sunshine. There were tall, pretty northern girls everywhere. He thought that she might be one of those rubbing shoulders. He could finally say softly to her in his heart, Goodbye, Vianne.