Sick Boy[s] Paddle Club↓

Timid Bodhisattva

Ning zhe 宁哲

Translated by: Lincole

It’s noisy outside, and the rain has gotten heavier. The car behind has not stopped honking. Are you going to blow up in the next second? If so, how about now? What are you in a rush for? Could you be in any more of a rush than me? Don’t you see that this is a wedding car? And this goddamned morning rush. It hasn’t gotten better after all these years. The roads are so wide yet there’s still so much traffic. That means there are more and more cars. What do we need all these cars for? Don't you see we’re all stuck in traffic anyways.

It is indeed noisy. We even had someone pick the date. Neither the week before nor the one after was appropriate. Today was the only good day. But the weather report gave no warning. It started raining out of nowhere last night. We had announced it to our relatives long ago. The photography team was booked, yet we ran into this weather. Whom should I argue with! I still have to call Zhang and tell him to cancel the release of the pigeons. It’s raining so heavily that the pigeons won’t want to come out of the cage. 

He definitely didn’t check the weather yesterday. I even reminded him, yet he still didn’t check – my words don’t matter to him. Of course he was busy drinking with his buddies, doing that bachelor party stuff, so immature. Is being single so great? Then stay single. No one’s forcing you to get married. If it weren’t for the parents pressing him, he might not have mentioned this at all for several years. God knows what he’s thinking all day. Sometimes I really doubt if we’re a good fit for each other, or if we’re just too lazy to get used to another life.

Coming back from there last night, I didn’t sleep the whole night and didn’t dare to drink either. Alcohol messes things up too much. I have to try to drink less. Everything’s been arranged. We’ve talked to the banquet hall. The opening band was all set. We decided on the 2,000-count string of firecrackers and made the track list together. There were enough songs for 4-5 hours… There’s really nothing to worry about. I might just be a bit excited, lying in bed and failing to fall asleep. Thoughts kept spinning in my head: I can’t even recall how I grew up, and I’m getting married tomorrow. Even now, I feel dizzy, things feel surreal.

The car finally starts moving. It’s not that I’m in a rush, but everything’s changed over the years. At least I feel very different from a while before. While in college, I thought: “What’s the rush?” I would go wild for a few years and would start thinking about the future once that got too tiring. But it feels like I haven't done anything these past years. I wasn’t having a good time and I didn’t have fun. I got a job, rented an apartment, commuted, and worked. All of a sudden, I got tired so easily and didn’t want to do anything excessive. Last weekend, he mentioned going to a movie. I didn’t want to go. He even got upset and said that I used to like watching movies. I didn’t bother explaining. In the end, it’s just that everything has changed. From a student to a corporate slave, from a couple to being married. From the French New Wave to the new industry trend.

We’ve known each other for three years, been together for two. We met each other’s parents and made long-term plans. All that’s left is actually taking this step. We had fought and held on to spite. Yet we’ve only split up for less than a week, and we’re very lucky to make it to this stage. She probably thinks so too. The master said that this time we were in for a lifetime, that we would grow old together and be very happy. She made fun of my superstitions. Superstitions aside, I have to have some faith. “Do you have faith?” I asked her. She said, “Guess.”

I’m a little worried. I’m twenty-seven. He’s about to be thirty. We’re both reaching midlife. We’ll have a kid after two years, and possibly a second. Buying a house, furnishing, getting pregnant, pregnancy checkups, schooling for our children… I don’t have faith that I can deal with any of this. Marriage complicates everything. My life’s trajectory changes from utterly uncertain to clearly uncertain – nothing’s changed yet, but everything will change eventually. No matter what, we have to adapt to another life, and then another. This endless vortex of life – do I have to?

I suspect that she still needs a boost of confidence from me. Recently, our lives have lacked romance. Planning a wedding has gotten me busy and disoriented. Regardless, I’m ready. I’ve prepared a surprise for her, and I’ll reveal it after our speech – I haven’t told anyone yet. She definitely has no idea – I’m prepared for her to be moved to tears.

Maybe I’m being avoidant. This was only an idea at the start. I could’ve pretended not to notice, but it quickly magnified and expanded so that I had no choice but to face this reality: I wished to avoid it, to avoid it as long as possible. I don’t know if getting married is the right choice. This question exploded like an airbag, suddenly filling the narrow space within our car. I feel a bit dizzy and nauseous.

She seems somewhat anxious. We really should encourage each other, this is the first time for both of us, afterall. I was thinking last night that she might be worked up today, that I needed to be prepared. So I brought honey-flavored mints with me right before leaving. It’s her favorite flavor, and it helps her stay calm. It starts to get stuffy in the car, so I roll down the window slightly.

Breeze blows in. The air in the car gets better. At least the air quality is nice on a rainy day, and the mad honking car has gone far. Maybe this isn’t bad, I stretch the mint wrapper thin and fold it twice before placing it in his palm. Our fleet of cars passes a school. Not a single person on the field. I reckon it’s class time.

She’s very beautiful. Even after a hundred years, I’d think she’s beautiful. I tell her, “You’re so beautiful.”

"You’re so beautiful." But what about tomorrow? Will he still say “You’re so beautiful” tomorrow? What about next year? One day I won’t be beautiful anymore. That’s inevitable. And long before that day comes he’ll stop saying “You’re so beautiful.” The taste of honey spreads in my mouth. It’s a bit too sweet. It’s alright. At least I look beautiful today. No one can question that, This is the only reassuring bit of certainty now.

“I love you.” I speak sincerely.

“I love you too.” I believe that he is sincere as well.

The rain is still coming down with no sign of ending, the air crisp, and the ground a bit wet and slippery. The morning rush seems to have passed. The wedding will start in an hour. The engaged couple is sitting in the back, one holding a candy in her mouth, one holding a surprise in his heart. Suddenly, the tires are squished and deformed. Headlights and metal crumple into each other. The driver finally realizes what has happened and sees an out-of-control truck in the rearview mirror. He is just beginning to swerve around the metal giant when the car gets blocked by a wall that emerges out of nowhere.

Ningzhe

Ningzhe doesn't trust words—he writes them down for whatever interpretation they may allow. Complexity, he believes, ought to have irreducible parts, while a bio is far too much of a compromise. So focus on the writing; he hopes it has completed its own expression. As for anything more, he'll meet you in the lines that follow.