Waterbound Love - Chapter 2

The stark whiteness of the hospital contained so much, painting despair, helplessness, or perhaps farewell. The hospital seemed to be the best representation of such bleakness.

When Du Bai opened her eyes, she was met with stark whiteness, somewhat blinding. Slowly adapting to the light, she finally managed to focus, seeing Shen Yan sitting beside her, looking at her intently with red-rimmed eyes. Du Bai forced a bitter smile, feeling that what she needed most at the moment was a brother. She tried to move but couldn’t find the strength. Her body was enveloped in a dull ache, likely because the anesthesia hadn’t worn off completely. Judging by all the tubes attached to her, she must have been seriously injured.

“Where is Yunyun?” She asked with difficulty, her voice hoarse and painfully sharp from being unused for so long.

“Is there anything else you care about besides that woman? You just can’t help worrying,” Shen Yan retorted angrily, eyes blazing. Du Bai glanced at her with some confusion, sensing that something significant had happened while she was unconscious, something she didn’t know about. Du Bai generally didn’t bother with other people’s affairs, but when it came to Lian Yinyun, she couldn’t remain indifferent. Staring at each other in silence, it was clear Shen Yan had no intention of divulging anything.

“Hey, what are you doing? Don’t move, don’t pull out the IV, alright, fine, I’ll tell you, just lie back down. Nurse, where’s the nurse?” Shen Yan forcefully pressed Du Bai back onto the bed, thinking to herself that all her years of good manners had just been trampled underfoot. She cursed herself for being so foolishly anxious, fearing Du Bai might never wake up, she hadn’t dared let the nurse administer more sedatives.

A group of nurses accompanied by a doctor rushed in, performed a routine check-up, and muttered some technical jargon, probably advising her to rest well and avoid extreme emotional fluctuations. They then exited respectfully. They dared not provoke the people in this room-the consequences could be minor hospital damage, but losing their jobs would be a critical blow, especially in such tough economic times when just making a living was challenging enough.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment. Shen Yan sighed helplessly, poured a glass of water, and placed it at Du Bai’s lips, watching her take small sips. Shen Yan sank into the sofa and said slowly, “Ever since your accident, I’ve been here. That girl never came. Your mom came back and handled everything.” Du Bai knew that with her mom involved, things were far from simple. Shen Yan had said as much as she could; any more would be inappropriate.

“Please leave. I want to be alone for a while.” With her throat moistened by the water, speaking became less challenging.

Shen Yan glanced at her and left without saying anything.

Sunshine streamed in through the window. Du Bai raised her hand to shield herself, but it seemed to seep in through the gaps, landing on her face, warm and comforting. Perhaps life under the sun could be simpler. No matter how tightly you try to grasp it, sunshine cannot be held or blocked. Lowering her hand, the sunlight hit her face, leaving no shadows. Yet, the smile frozen at the corner of her mouth was bitter, and her eyes felt a bit moist.

“Mom, I remember you said you loved autumn because it brought satisfying harvests,” Du Bai said, leaning against the pillow and looking out the window as if admiring the scenery. Speaking softly to herself, her voice was loud enough for two people to hear.

Wen Qiuyan said nothing, knowing her daughter would give her a satisfying answer today. Any more words would be unnecessary.

“Because of our family, I’ve never felt hardship in life or in love, even though what I chose was a difficult path,” Du Bai murmured, her voice heavy with weariness and struggle, but also with a sense of peace. “Three more years, just let me quietly pursue my choice. This incident has nothing to do with Yunyun. Please forgive her.”

The room was filled with silence, so quiet it seemed they could hear the sun swaying.

After a long pause, Wen Qiuyan shook her head helplessly, “Ruoruo, you’ve disappointed me. How could you think of your mother this way? You are my only daughter; I just want you to be a bit happier.” With that, she walked out.

Du Bai watched Wen Qiuyan’s retreating figure, as straight and elegant as she remembered. Tears filled her peach blossom eyes. Why did she suddenly feel an indescribable sense of grievance?

The sunlight felt good, didn’t it?

“Drinking beer? That’s underestimating Somn.” Tinna took the beer from Du Bai’s hand and slid a glass in front of her. “Here, as a thank you for coming straight here right after getting out of the hospital.”

Du Bai glanced at Tinna but said nothing, downing the drink in one go. “What is this? It’s pretty good.” She wiped her mouth and toyed with the glass in her hand.

“It’s the drink you asked for last time. Give it a try.” Tinna shook the cocktail shaker proudly.

Du Bai smiled, though her eyes were full of pain. “Rum and Gin are both strong, mixed together they could ignite a fierce flame; they are also both clear, yet together they remain as clear as water.” She shrugged, “Perfect for someone who’s heartbroken. Got a name for it?”

“Not yet, the usual, it’s all yours.” Tinna wanted to say something but found no way to console her, so she went along with it. Emotions are redundant to onlookers.

“Water and fire don’t differ in this drink. Let’s call it Oblivion.” With that, she slid the glass over for a refill.

“So, you’ve decided?” Seeing Du Bai’s smile, even without knowing all the details, Tinna understood. They knew each other too well. After a pause, she decided to tell her, “Lian Yinyun is engaged…”

Du Bai’s hand paused mid-air, then she downed the drink, “I know. When I told her we were breaking up, we were separated for good. I gaze from this shore to the other, and the distance between us changes in my imagination. It’s a crossing I can’t make.” She let out a bitter smile and tapped the glass. Turns out, she was braver than she thought.

Tinna said nothing, silently shaking her cocktail glass. Each person bears their own emotional burden; all she could do was join Du Bai in a drunk stupor.

“Did you find out?” Du Bai seemed unwilling to descend further into grief and sought to change the subject.

“Yeah, as you suspected, it was Sisi. That woman, she’s incredibly foolish, leaving traces everywhere.” Tinna was somewhat puzzled; Shen Yan was usually more adept at investigating these matters.

“Then let’s play along with them,” Du Bai said nonchalantly, raising her glass. Yet, her eyes betrayed a chilling coldness. Her usually captivating peach blossom eyes were filled with a menacing darkness that was strangely alluring and confusing. “I’ll be coming to the bar more often from now on…”

“Really? You’re not just saying that to make me happy, are you?” Tinna wiped her hands and continued to chatter, “When we first opened Somn, the most you could manage was two days a week. If you come here often, when will you have time to paint?” Despite her shock, Tinna sensed that Du Bai was hiding something significant.

Du Bai clenched her hands tightly, trying to calm the pain reflected in her eyes. “Yeah, I’m done with painting. Consider it a retirement. This way I’ll have time to implement that PUB project we talked about.”

Tinna knew Du Bai was trying to change the subject, so she went along with it. “Then you better make sure the renovation plan looks fantastic.”

Du Bai froze for a moment, seemingly suppressing something. Her eyes were a mix of agony, determination, and helplessness but eventually settled into calmness. “I’ve handed the plan over to Shen Yan. PUBs are more popular abroad, and since she’s studied overseas for years, she’s more suitable for this case.” Du Bai shrugged.

“Bang!” Tinna threw her glass forcefully and stood up. “Du Bai, I’m telling you, don’t push it. I’ve had enough of your crap. Do you even see me as a friend? You keep everything hidden, refusing to let anyone know what’s going on. I get it, you can’t let go of Lian Yinyun, and thinking of her makes you sad. Fine, I won’t bring her up in front of you. I’ve been acting like a wimp, not asking about anything happening between you two, and that’s still not enough for you? You don’t even tell me when something happens to you?” After yelling, Tinna sat back down. Perhaps having vented her anger made her calm down, but Du Bai knew this was just the beginning. Once Tinna got serious, she’d dig to the very bottom. Du Bai opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. My dad’s way better at giving the runaround than you are. If you think I’m superfluous, then say nothing more and get out. Don’t underestimate my intelligence. Painting is as crucial to you as Lian Yinyun. I can ignore it when you break up with her, but you owe me an explanation for why you’ve stopped painting.” With that, she grabbed Du Bai’s glass and downed the drink. She slammed the glass on the table and fixed Du Bai with a firm gaze.

Du Bai remained silent for a long time, struggling. The veins on her hand gripping the glass spoke volumes of her pain.

Tinna shook her head, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over her, leaving her devoid of strength to hold on to anything. Her eyes stung as she walked out. Du Bai watched her retreating figure, illuminated by a forlorn halo under the lights, and spoke in a voice filled with despair, “Tinna, please don’t push me.” The despair in her voice struck Tinna, making even the tips of her fingers tingle with a sad chill.

Tinna grasped Du Bai’s hand, following her gaze to those empty eyes. Du Bai seemed unaware as she murmured, “Painting is like my lifeblood. I’ve poured my soul into my brush, hoping to paint a vibrant life for myself. I never imagined a life without painting, but now I can’t paint anymore. I just can’t. This is God’s punishment for me, for ruining a woman’s happiness. I can’t even accept this reality myself. Every time I wake up at midnight, I think it’s just a nightmare that has passed. I can’t face it. How can I drag it out of the darkness and explain it to anyone? I can’t. I’m not that strong.” Du Bai closed her eyes, withdrew her hand, and buried her face in them. In that moment, there seemed to be the sound of dreams shattering, as crisp and cold as broken glass.

“Is it your hand? Is it because of the car accident?” Tinna cautiously lifted Du Bai’s hand. Du Bai helplessly shook her head. “God is far less merciful than you think. She’s so miserly, she wouldn’t even grant me a chance to start over. Tinna, please don’t ask anymore. I really can’t bear it. Maybe one day, when I can face it and accept it, I’ll tell you everything.”

It was like a whispered confession, not of love but of an unspeakable pain. Like the soft sea breeze brushing over an exposed wound, bringing a salty sting, the relief was a heavy burden of pain.