Chapter 24: The Price of Growing Up

Having left that old residential community far behind, I dragged my luggage along the city streets. After a long walk, I finally found a stone bench to rest on in a square.

I placed my luggage on one side of the bench, lit a cigarette, and sat down, gazing at the neon lights flickering along the high-rise buildings. A sudden wave of panic surged inside me, as I felt lost and unsure of where to go.

Trying to escape from the city’s dazzling lights, I looked up at the sky, searching for that “Castle in the Sky” that had already been stripped away from me.

At some point, a group of elderly women with fans arrived at the square, and the loud music they played instantly overwhelmed me. In this suffocating atmosphere, the “Castle in the Sky” became even more unrecognizable—perhaps it had already hidden behind the moon, or maybe it had been blown away by the passing wind moments ago…

But on this night, I still needed to find a place to rest in this city.

I took out my phone and dialed Luo Ben’s number. He lived near the train station, and since I was heading to Hengdian tomorrow, I might as well stay at his place for the night.

Amid the noise, Luo Ben answered the call: “Zhaoyang, what’s up?”

“Still performing at the bar?”

“Yeah, it’s almost our band’s turn.”

“Oh… um, I was wondering if I could crash at your place tonight, is that okay?”

Luo Ben chuckled: “Of course, come to the bar now. Wait for me to finish work, and we’ll go back together.”

“I’ll just go directly to your place. I won’t come to the bar.”

“C’mon, I’ll buy you a drink. I’ve still got several drink vouchers left.”

“No thanks,” I said and hung up, leaving Luo Ben puzzled about why I refused.

After leaving the square, I took a taxi directly to Luo Ben’s place. I checked the time—it was still early—so I went to the train station and bought a ticket for tomorrow morning from Suzhou to Yiwu.

…

It was almost midnight when Luo Ben finally returned from the bar, while I had already fallen asleep leaning against my luggage in the hallway.

Luo Ben shook me awake, complaining: “You’ve changed, man! You wouldn’t come to the bar, and you’d rather sleep like a fool in the hallway!”

I just smiled without saying a word.

While unlocking the door, Luo Ben asked me: “Did you move out?”

“Yeah, I haven’t found a suitable place yet. I have to go on a business trip to Hengdian tomorrow, so I figured I’d crash here for the night.”

“Stay as long as you want!” He said, then glanced at the luggage on the floor and asked, “Where’s your awesome guitar?”

Feeling a momentary sadness, I replied casually, “I pawned it off to pay a debt.”

Luo Ben’s eyes widened in shock: “Pawned it off? You must be in a really bad spot! I asked to borrow it a few times before, but you treated it like a precious treasure and never let me touch it. And now you pawned it off for debts?”

“Forget it. Help me carry the luggage inside.”

…

Luo Ben lived in a small attic on the top floor, with only a narrow room. Behind it was a fairly large balcony shared by many residents, with a communal bathroom and a clothesline. The living conditions weren’t great.

After turning on the lights, I saw a few leather jackets hanging on coat racks. In a corner stood a guitar, and on the shoe rack sat several pairs of Martin boots. There were also a few boxes, but not much else—except for some scattered beer cans on the table, the room wasn’t too messy.

After settling my luggage, Luo Ben pulled out two instant noodle cups from somewhere and made them for us as a late-night snack.

Soon after finishing, the empty noodle cups were placed upside down on an abandoned flowerpot on the balcony. Sitting on the balcony rail, we each had a can of beer beside us.

We each opened a can, clinked them together, and tilted our heads back, quickly finishing half the can in one go.

“Zhaoyang, you seem pretty down lately. What’s wrong? Why don’t you go to the bar anymore?”

“I’m living freely and happily. What kind of blow could I have possibly suffered?” I said, finishing the remaining beer in one gulp, staring blankly into the distance.

In the distance, the giant Maxwell billboard still twinkled with lights deep into the night.

Luo Ben didn’t press further. He followed my gaze into the distance. After a long silence, he patted my shoulder empathetically. We were both struggling on the fringes of this city, and some pains were shared. There was no need to explain everything clearly.

The cold wind of the night howled past us as we continued sitting on the balcony rail, each finishing another can of beer.

In the quiet night, people tend to think more. Luo Ben seemed to recall someone and reached for another beer can, but I stopped him. Drinking too much wasn’t good—I had almost jumped into the city moat yesterday after getting too drunk.

“Thinking about a girl?” I smiled and asked Luo Ben.

“Yeah, I always think about her when I drink,” Luo Ben replied honestly.

I knew Luo Ben had once been deeply in love with a girl. I nudged him and said, “Do you still have her photo? Let me see it.”

Luo Ben took out his wallet and pulled a photo from one of the compartments, handing it to me. I used the distant light to make out the woman in the picture. She had beautiful features—very elegant and charming.

Luo Ben looked a little dazed. After a while, he said, “We broke up almost three years ago. She must be married by now.”

“Why did you two break up?”

Luo Ben gave a bitter smile: “She came from a family of teachers, both her parents were university professors. I was just a musician with no stable income, living day by day. I didn’t want to hold her back.”

“So you ran away from Beijing to Suzhou?”

Luo Ben nodded. “Actually, she followed me to Suzhou later. We lived together for another six months…”

“Then why did you still break up?”

“Her parents came to see me and said they had already arranged a job for her at a university in Beijing. They asked me to let her go back.”

“You idiot actually let her go?”

Luo Ben nodded: “I told her I had another girlfriend.”

“Do you think she believed you?”

Luo Ben smiled again: “She definitely didn’t believe me…”

“Then…?”

“I brought a prostitute here, to this very room, right in front of her…” Luo Ben didn’t continue. His face still wore a smile, but beneath it, I could see a heart that was already dead.

I sighed heavily: “Why did you have to go that far?”

“If I hadn’t gone that far, she wouldn’t have left. Better a short pain than a long one…” Luo Ben tilted his head back and finished the beer in one gulp, some of it spilling down his neck into his shirt.

I remained silent. Although Luo Ben spoke lightly, I could see the heart-wrenching pain hidden in his helplessness. I knew he would never forget that woman for the rest of his life.

“Enough about me. Show me your girlfriend’s photo too,” Luo Ben nudged me.

I also pulled out a photo of Jianwei from the wallet and handed it to Luo Ben. Truthfully, neither of us was willing to forget the past—it was just too precious.

The distant light was insufficient, so Luo Ben lit a lighter and used the flame to examine Jianwei’s photo.

“Your girlfriend is beautiful—not just any kind of beautiful!”

When I heard the word “beautiful,” my female roommate’s face suddenly appeared in my mind. But I wasn’t surprised, because in my entire life, I had never seen a woman more beautiful than Mi Cai. In an instant, I returned to reality, using the fading flame to look at Jianwei’s familiar yet unfamiliar face. My heart ached. I thought: Before long, she would probably marry Xiang Chen too.

Luo Ben handed Jianwei’s photo back to me and asked, “What about you two? Why did you break up?”

I recalled for a while before answering, “She called me a year after she went to America and broke up with me.”

“Why did she break up with you?” Luo Ben pressed.

“I don’t know. She didn’t say.” I replied with the same smile Luo Ben had just shown.

“You didn’t even ask?”

I nodded. I really hadn’t asked Jianwei why she broke up with me, because I thought: If Jianwei wanted to say, she wouldn’t need me to ask. She would tell me. Maybe deep down, I never believed we would last forever. There would inevitably come a day when we would break up. And for something that was expected, what difference would knowing the reason make?

“Aren’t you afraid there might be some misunderstanding between you two?” Luo Ben reminded me.

I hesitated for a moment and said, “What kind of misunderstanding could there be? Love is just a fleeting moment. Let’s not talk about this anymore! Go get the guitar. Let’s play a song and forget all this mess!”

Luo Ben went inside and brought out the guitar. He tested the tuning and asked me, “In your key or mine?”

“Whatever.”

Luo Ben strummed the guitar strings, and a melody floated into the night air—it was Li Zongsheng’s “The Price of Love.”

“…Go on, go on, people must learn to grow up on their own. Go on, go on, life inevitably involves pain and struggle. Go on, go on, find a home for your heart. I’ve also felt heartbreak, I’ve also felt my heart shatter. This is the price of love. Maybe I still occasionally think of her, maybe I still miss her. Treat her like an old friend, let her make me sad and make me care. But there’s no longer any spark in my heart. Let the past fade away with the wind…”

Our voices carried the song into the night, filled with a sense of vicissitudes. Yet I still didn’t understand whether the price of love was merely heartbreak and sorrow. I did know, however, that the price of growing up was the love that had already faded with time.

On this night when everything should have been seen through clearly, I still felt regret for my lost love, and for Luo Ben and that unknown girl from Beijing.

…

The next morning, I boarded a train heading toward Yiwu. After arriving in Yiwu, I still needed to transfer to Hengdian. I knew it was time for me to do something for myself. If this time Leyao agreed to come back and help with the promotional poster for Gucci’s opening, my career would finally take off for the first time.

If I were promoted to the head of the planning and copywriting team, my monthly salary would exceed ten thousand yuan. Perhaps life would finally stabilize.

For the first time on this southbound train, I told myself: “Work hard, Zhaoyang! Never let anyone look down on you again!”