Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Not..." Lan Yifang hurriedly denied.

Chi Tuo said nothing, just looked at her.

Lan Yifang barely dared to meet his eyes, very quietly protested, "It's not just me who’s scared, even Auntie Wang is scared..."

"Scared she'll hit people?" Chi Tuo asked.

His tone was very calm, no emotion.

Lan Yifang quickly shook her head, "Sister An doesn’t hit people when she’s asleep."

Chi Tuo gave a sound of acknowledgment but still showed no emotion.

She didn’t hit people—she almost strangled him yesterday.

"Well..." Lan Yifang really didn’t know how to express it well, a mix of anxiety and grievance, "It’s about that... the reality disintegration thing... at those times she has no rationality, hitting or killing people isn’t illegal..."

Chi Tuo frowned, "Who said that?"

"...Auntie Wang," Lan Yifang stammered, quickly adding, "But Sister An hasn’t done that yet. She just... her words can be pretty harsh."

"When woken up, she gets moody..." Lan Yifang said, "The previous few personal assistants and Auntie Wang have all been scolded to tears by her."

"So I... am also a little scared of her."

Lan Yifang was really very afraid of An Ye when she was asleep or in a relapse state. When not relapsing, An Ye was quite easy to get along with. Her only hobby was acting—whether in movies or variety shows—once placed into a role, she became that person during that time. Besides eating, sleeping, makeup, and skincare, she didn’t talk much or make many demands.

Lan Yifang was sloppy in her work, and she didn’t say anything about that.

But the relapsing An Ye was different. Lan Yifang felt that the An Ye in that state might be the real An Ye—quiet, bad-tempered, and somewhat... mean.

She had personally heard An Ye tell her own mother to get lost, saying her mother just treated her as a money-making tool. If not for Auntie Wang, she wouldn’t have signed with that exploitative agency that sold her to Huanzhou for five years. Auntie Wang wasn’t good-tempered either; the two would have earth-shattering fights in the room, and it usually ended with Auntie Wang leaving with teary eyes and luggage.

That past year, Auntie Wang hardly came to Baigang City anymore.

An Ye was also mean to her sometimes, saying she wasn’t fit for this line of work, telling her to study more, that girls should be smart, and to stop sending all her money home every month but save some for herself and plan for her future.

Actually, what she said wasn’t lies, but because they were the harshest truths, they hurt the most.

That’s why Lan Yifang didn’t dare to get close to An Ye in her relapse state.

Moreover, even An Ye’s mother said that when An Ye was like that, if she really did something outrageous, she’d have to be tied up; otherwise, getting hit would be pointless.

Lan Yifang looked at Chi Tuo’s thoughtful face and worried that if he was also afraid of relapsing An Ye like she was, and didn’t want to take care of her anymore, it would be a disaster. She had to hide things from Yan Wan at the company and couldn’t leave her post. Without a trustworthy person by An Ye’s side, she would literally starve to death.

"But I’m not that scared," she started to defend herself. "She doesn’t hit people now, and if she really relapses badly, we can tie her up or lock her in the room and just bring her meals at fixed times."

"We’ve taken away all sharp objects from her room, so it’s still safe."

Chi Tuo asked expressionlessly, "Is tying her up or locking her up a doctor’s recommendation?"

Lan Yifang: "Auntie Wang said so. She said whenever Sister An went crazy before, that’s what they did. After a few days she’d wake up fine."

Chi Tuo didn’t say anything more.

Lan Yifang had gotten a plan to keep Yan Wan in the dark and didn’t stay long here. She went into An Jiujiu’s room to tidy it up and clean the bathroom inside, took An Jiujiu’s change of clothes, then left.The white cat only now poked its head out from the cat tower’s space capsule and meowed at Chi Tuo.

Chi Tuo stood up with a blank face, ignored the cat, and went straight into An Jiujiu’s room.

Lan Yifang had tidied the room very cleanly and even sprayed some perfume—the woody herbal scent that belonged to An Jiujiu. She was still curled up asleep in the same position, very quiet, and at first glance, seemed peaceful.

Having taken care of her for two days, Chi Tuo knew he wasn’t qualified to judge Wang Shanshan’s idea of tying up and locking her daughter away. Many people treat mental illness that way. Wang Shanshan probably just thought that since this was a disease, it should be handled with strict precautions.

After all, she was the kind of person who took everything very seriously. When An Jiujiu sneaked a piece of braised pork, Wang Shanshan would turn it into a serious matter about An Jiujiu’s moral decline and indifference toward her future. Especially since An Jiujiu’s condition had medical backing that required a doctor, Wang Shanshan was likely even more cautious.

But such an attitude from family inevitably influenced how others treated An Jiujiu.

Like Lan Yifang.

Like the several personal assistants who left earlier.

Like Yan Wan, the manager who didn’t care at all whether An Jiujiu was in character or not, only whether she took work.

Even An Jiujiu herself.

She had even written her bank account number on that paper.

Chi Tuo sighed.

Although he long knew that there were no fully happy adults in this world, and that even the most glamorous people underneath their polished appearance bore scars.

But An Jiujiu was just too lonely.

Just like him, because he had experienced things and had people by his side, his sense of loneliness was even clearer.

The person on the bed murmured, turned over, and opened her eyes.

Perhaps startled, perhaps entering another round of reality-dream overlap, she stared at Chi Tuo, said nothing, showed no expression.

Chi Tuo again took the iron silly fat cat figurine from the bedside table and pressed it against An Jiujiu’s face.

An Jiujiu’s eyes widened from the cold.

He smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I’ve always been on your side.”

Though childish, not as cool as the “Don’t be afraid, I’m always here” he said when they were kids, but hopefully understandable.

The next two days were no different. An Jiujiu still liked to climb onto his bed late at night, but Chi Tuo was only startled the first time. After that, he would expressionlessly grab her, wrap her in a blanket, and toss her back to her own room.

He found that An Jiujiu wasn’t really that obsessed with sex. Most of the time, she looked more like she was addicted to fighting with him, parrying and countering moves like a stunt choreographer.

As if she was bored of sleeping and wanted something to do.

Chi Tuo shoved her hand into the blanket; her foot slipped out; when he pushed his foot in again, she bit his waistband with her mouth.

Chi Tuo: “...”

He realized she was actually laughing.

This was the first time An Jiujiu had laughed since they reunited. Her long hair was messy around her ears, and she held back laughter so hard that her cheek puffed out from the side.

Chi Tuo: “...That funny?”An Jiujiu turned to look at him and didn’t hold back, bursting out laughing.

Chi Tuo released his hand that was pressing on her, sat on the bed with his arms crossed, glaring at her. After a while, as if confirming something, he said, “You’re awake, right?”

An Jiujiu smiled and nodded, lying back on Chi Tuo’s bed, covering her face with the back of her hand, quietly laughing for a while.

“When did you wake up?” Chi Tuo asked, raising his hand to pull the blanket over her shorts and tank top.

“Just now.” An Jiujiu’s voice was still hoarse from just waking up. Thinking about it, she still found it funny. “When I rubbed against you and you twisted my hand.”

Maybe she accidentally pulled her hair, but she was actually woken by the pain.

Chi Tuo: “...Oh.”

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say—awkward and blank. After all, they had been wrestling passionately just seconds ago; her mouth was still biting his sweatpants waistband, pulling it down so much that her underwear was already visible.

After laughing enough, An Jiujiu raised her right hand and politely shook Chi Tuo’s right hand, saying politely, “Long time no see.”

Chi Tuo: “...”

That sense of unfamiliarity swept over him with those five words. She was no longer the dazed An Jiujiu who thought she was still in high school. With such a simple phrase, she had become the celebrity An Ye.

Chi Tuo picked up a pillow and threw it at her face, covering that annoyingly adult face, then got up and went to the living room.

The white cat seemed to sense its owner was awake, abandoning its previous aloof demeanor. It trotted quickly into Chi Tuo’s room, jumped on the bed, and showed its not-so-fat belly to the lying An Ye, meowing in a coquettish way as if trying to seduce a female cat downstairs.

In the end, An Ye had to carry the cat out in a baby-holding position. This usually punctual, aloof white cat was now acting as if it hadn’t eaten for five days, making pig-like noises when An Ye opened the cabinet to feed it canned food.

But An Ye was really very patient with the cat. After feeding it, she held it in her arms, wiped its mouth and bottom, then took out an electric toothbrush and brushed its teeth.

When Chi Tuo saw her unable to resist the cat’s coaxing and going to get snacks for it again, he couldn’t help but say, “I just fed it a can before I went to bed, and it’s been less than an hour.”

An Ye heard this and exchanged the big bag of cat snacks in her hand for a small cat stick.

The white cat visibly softened, finished the cat stick, then lay on An Ye’s legs, squinting its eyes and kneading milk—completely different from the fierce little wildcat that would arch its back and jump threateningly before.

“If you like it so much, don’t give it up for adoption.” Chi Tuo looked at the inseparable pair and couldn’t help but say, “This cat is pretty picky; if someone else raises it, it might not be so close.”

“I’ll take care of it while I’m on set for months without anyone else.” An Ye glanced at him, “And my mom doesn’t like pets.”

“You go to the set, just leave it with me.” Chi Tuo gestured toward the cat, “I quite like it.”

The cat wagged its tail at him.

“You can give it a name now.” Chi Tuo said, “This cat is clever and tricky.”

Though it couldn’t hear, the real meaning of naming a pet was that the human was willing to give it a home.

“You...” An Ye looked at him, “Are you planning to stay in Baigang for good? Is your mom still in Singapore or will she come back with you?”

“My mom remarried.” Chi Tuo said, “My uncle arranged it.”

Chi Dingbang had died in a traffic accident the second year after Chi Tuo went abroad. That year, Zhang Rou’s mental illness was still severe, and no one dared to provoke her. Chi Tuo didn’t even return.

But these things were mentioned by Wang Shanshan casually. She said Chi Dingbang’s funeral was handled by the water plant leaders, that Zhang Rou ran off with the kids, and no one properly saw off Chi Dingbang.

Not a happy topic, so An Ye didn’t bring it up again.

When they parted, it was the lowest point for both families, and neither had done well.Before, when they were close and he was her only friend, they never talked much about these things; now it was just passed over lightly.

An Ye patted the white cat still purring on her lap, placed it on the nearby cushion, then got up and went to the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

“What do you have?” Chi Tuo asked, completely ignoring that he’d already been here five days, as if he had just arrived today.

An Ye looked at him. “Mineral water and alcohol.”

Chi Tuo raised his eyebrows. “Alcohol then. Nothing too strong.”

An Ye took a bottle of red wine from the liquor cabinet, didn’t bother to decant it, poured the whole bottle into an ice bucket, then added a bunch of ice cubes. Holding two glass cups, she set them clinking on the coffee table.

“The fridge is full of food,” she complained.

“I shop every two days. Don’t know how long you’ll sleep,” Chi Tuo said. “I’ll help clean it out when I leave.”

“Leaving at midnight?” An Ye poured two glasses, handed one to Chi Tuo, and clinked glasses with him.

“Tomorrow,” Chi Tuo took a sip. “I have a meeting then, will go straight to the company.”

Silence again.

It felt awkward. After reuniting, there was no gradual progression. Last year, she met a high school classmate who had come to the film crew to apprentice as a screenwriter; that was very step-by-step—handshakes, chatting, going out to eat together. Bittersweet, and before she knew it, she was almost thirty, then they both went home with dignity.

Not like now.

She remembered the whole process of her unconscious episode, so naturally she also remembered biting Chi Tuo’s waistband and being lifted up and tossed into the blanket by him.

They were already very close—after reuniting, they were instantly fully familiar.

But now that she was awake, it was like neither knew how to handle the distance.

He said he was on her side.

An Ye took a sip of the red wine—unopened wine wasn’t soft enough on the palate, and with too many ice cubes, it stung her and made her shrink her neck.

“Chi Tuo,” she asked, “do you still like me now?”