Chapter Sixty-Two: Stay

When I saw the silence in my phone’s contacts, I hung up and dialed again. But all I got was the same mechanical message from the mobile company: “Sorry! The number you have dialed is powered off or temporarily unreachable. Please try again later…”

I hung up and tried once more, only to hear that same voice. A thread of anxiety tugged at my heart; just moments ago, I’d distinctly heard Gu Ruoyan’s startled cry over the phone, and now her line was dead. Could something have happened to her?

The thought of her alone in such a sordid place, possibly drunk, and what might happen if she encountered someone malicious—it was a scenario too dreadful to imagine. After a few seconds of deliberation, I realized that perhaps I was the only one in this world who knew where Gu Ruoyan was right now. Whether she was in trouble or not, if I didn’t go and check on her, I might regret it forever. Besides, she was my old boss, someone to whom I owed a debt of gratitude. My decision made, I tossed my phone aside and strode out the door.

In the living room, my parents saw me re-enter my room only to leave again in a hurry, and asked in surprise, “Qian, why are you going out again just after coming home?”

I replied, “Something urgent came up. I have to go out for a bit.” With that, I opened the door and stepped out, catching my mother’s voice behind me as she spoke to my father: “Oh dear, what’s gotten into Qian lately? Always so secretive. He doesn’t need to act like this just to date someone, does he?”

Anxious, I hurried out of the residential complex and flagged down a taxi on the street. Climbing in, I asked the driver, “Do you know where the Austin Slow Dance Bar is?”

He said, “Austin? I think it’s in the southern part of the city.”

“Then please drive fast, I’ve got something urgent to get to.”

“Alright!”

Austin Slow Dance Bar wasn’t hard to find. Less than half an hour later, the car reached the new street in the southern district, and from a distance, I could see the enormous neon signs flashing with ever-changing colors, drawing attention. As the car pulled up in front, the pulsing music from inside was already faintly audible.

I paid and got out, entering Austin Slow Dance Bar. A flight of stairs led underground. With every step downward, the music grew louder, until a turn brought me to a plastic curtain door. As I lifted the curtain, the already deafening sound became thunderous. My ears rang, and besides that explosive noise, I could hear nothing else.

Walking down a long hallway, I came upon a massive T-shaped stage, flanked by two steel poles. On each pole, a scantily-clad, seductive woman swayed in time with the music. The stage lights flickered, sometimes bright, sometimes dim, while the area below was plunged in darkness. Around the T-stage, a ring of bar counters was crowded with dozens of people, swaying along with the pounding beat. Beyond that, small tables filled almost every available space, with men and women drinking all sorts of alcohol. Along the edges were two tiers of private rooms, their corridors packed with young people nodding and bobbing their heads.

I scanned the crowd for Gu Ruoyan, when a bar waitress happened to pass by. I stepped up and shouted, “Excuse me, have you seen a woman around thirty, wearing glasses? She might be drunk!”

Even shouting, she couldn’t hear me clearly, and responded by yelling louder, “What did you say? Speak up, I can’t hear you!”

I had to practically scream, “Have you seen a woman around thirty, wearing glasses? Has anything happened here recently?”

The waitress finally heard, and yelled back, “I don’t know, ask the manager over there.”

“Where’s the manager?”

“In the cocktail bar over there.”

When I found the bar, I didn’t even need to ask—the moment I saw Gu Ruoyan sitting at the bar, tilting her head back as she drank foreign liquor, I felt a wave of relief. She seemed unharmed, and the tension in my chest eased. Quietly, I walked over and sat beside her.

Gu Ruoyan had clearly drunk more than a little. Her demeanor and gestures were delightfully tipsy, yet she kept pushing her empty glass toward the bartender, slurring, “Another one, please, another…”

Looking at her face in profile, I could see from her expression the depths of her loss and emptiness. Only through the numbing haze of alcohol did her pain seem less acute. I sighed inwardly; I understood her sorrow and disappointment, but could do nothing to help. It was painful to watch. I resolved that, whatever happened, I couldn’t just leave her to drown herself night after night. Something would eventually go wrong.

For some reason, I felt a pang in my heart. As she took the green liquid from the bartender and prepared to drink, I reached out to stop her. “Don’t drink anymore. Let me take you home.”

Gu Ruoyan turned to look at me, and after a long moment, smiled and said, “You’re here? I’m not going… home. I want you to drink with me… just a couple.”

She seemed less drunk than last time, at least able to recognize me. Taking her home shouldn’t be as exhausting as before. Ignoring her invitation, I told the bartender, “Settle the bill, please. I’m taking her home.”

My tone left no room for doubt. The staff assumed I was someone close to Gu Ruoyan and didn’t question me. After tallying up, he told me, “The lady’s total is four hundred and sixty yuan. Thank you for your patronage.”

I pulled out my wallet to pay, but Gu Ruoyan grabbed my hand, saying sternly, “Tang Qian, what are you doing? If you won’t drink with me, just go. Leave me alone, alright?”

I was startled, thinking perhaps she’d sobered up. But looking closer, her eyes were still glazed and unfocused, her body swaying. The alcohol hadn’t fully hit yet; she was drunk in body, but not in spirit.

I said, “If you want to drink, I’ll drink with you at home, but not here. It’s too noisy. I have things to say to you, but here we’d have to shout, and I can’t stand it. Come on, let me take you back.”

At that moment, Gu Ruoyan was stubborn like a child, shaking her head. “I don’t want to! I want to drink here. Another… Green World, please…”

The bartender looked at me uncertainly. I shook my head at him, then turned to Gu Ruoyan: “Manager, I know you’re not feeling well, but drinking yourself into ruin every day, indulging yourself, is bad for your body and mind. Let’s go home. If you want to talk, I’m here. I know it’s painful to bottle it up.”

I tossed five hundred yuan on the bar, ready to drag her away. But Gu Ruoyan stubbornly refused, clinging to her seat and insisting on drinking here. No amount of persuasion worked. Finally, frustration got the best of me. Angry at her lack of resolve, I thought of how she was destroying herself for a man not worth her love—turning herself into a shadow of her former self, living in pain and alcohol, on the path to ruin.

I stopped trying to reason with her and shouted, “Gu Ruoyan! Have you had enough? You’re not a child anymore—you have to take responsibility for your actions! How long do you plan to keep squandering yourself like this? Are you going to spend your whole life chasing oblivion? Where is that conscientious, responsible manager I used to know? Please, wake up! Like this, what’s the difference between living and dying?”

My tirade shocked Gu Ruoyan into stillness. Her face contorted with pain, and soon two streams of tears slid down her cheeks. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stop herself from sobbing aloud.

Seeing her cry, my heart softened. I said, “It’s good to cry—it’s better to let it out than keep it bottled up. But this isn’t the place. Let’s go home and have a good cry.”

I tried to pull her up, but she still wouldn’t move. Frowning, I said, “You won’t leave? Is nothing I say getting through to you? If you keep this up, I won’t come back to help you again!”

Gu Ruoyan, crying, shouted, “Tang Qian! Let me stay here! Here, I can drink and distract myself, but at home, there’s no one. I’m so lonely! So miserable! I don’t want to go back!”

I stood dumbfounded, imagining her alone at home through the long night, suffering the torment of loneliness and emptiness. It was truly heartbreaking. But staying all night in a bar, drinking herself senseless, was even more dangerous and damaging. No matter what, I had to get her out of there.

Without another word, I bent down, wrapped my arms around her legs, pressed my shoulder against her stomach, and with a burst of strength, lifted her up. Gu Ruoyan screamed and struggled, but I ignored her blows and strode out.

Outside Austin, I finally set her down. Gu Ruoyan, still crying, hit me repeatedly, shouting, “Tang Qian! You’re a bad man! I don’t want to go, I have nowhere to go…”

I let her hit me, flagged down a cab, and half-dragged her inside. Giving the driver her address, I rode with her back home.

After a while, Gu Ruoyan’s crying wore her out, the effects of the alcohol setting in, draining her strength. She leaned weakly against my shoulder, mumbling, “I don’t want to go home, I don’t want to go home…”

Once we arrived at her apartment, I carried her inside as I had last time, laboriously hauling her to her door. The only difference was that this time, Gu Ruoyan hadn’t vomited, her speech was clearer, and she still recognized me.

I found her keys in her pocket, opened the door, helped her into bed, and poured her a glass of water. Seeing her gradually settle down and stop crying, I said, “Manager, alcohol only deepens your sorrow. Drowning your troubles in drink every day isn’t the answer. You’ve had enough tonight. Get some sleep, and tomorrow, let’s find a time to talk properly. Drink your water and rest—I’ll leave now.”

Gu Ruoyan, who had quieted down, immediately put down her glass and grabbed my arm tightly when she heard I was about to leave. I looked at her, perplexed.

Whether drunk or sober, her face was filled with fear. Her eyes, behind her glasses, revealed her emptiness. She pleaded, “Tang Qian, don’t leave. I’m so lonely here by myself. Stay, keep me company!”