Rebirth 04: Starting from Taking an Unconventional Approach

Han Fei stood behind the bar, with a speaker not far away. He held a glass of Zheng Guanghe brand colorless salted soda in his hand, so as not to be asked why he was drinking soda. He was watching his colleagues from the publishing house dance.

Zhang Ruiyi stood next to Han Fei, her fingers twirling the stem of a wine glass filled with an orange beverage.

Have you ever been to a party like this before?

"No," Han Fei said. "I used to think that these kinds of occasions were a waste of time. I would rather spend that time reviewing more manuscripts or figuring out how to format the next issue of the magazine."

"So what do you think now? Was it a waste of time?"

Han Fei chuckled softly, his gaze shifting to the dance floor. Most of the people were already quite drunk. Wen Jie and Lu Hai were dancing passionately, Wen Jie tightly embracing Lu Hai, both smiling, beads of sweat on their lips, twirling and swaying in the center of the dance floor. Han Fei wondered what their reaction would be when they sobered up and recalled this scene.

"Now I realize that I may have really missed out on a lot in the past."

"It's quite refreshing to hear you say that," Zhang Ruiyi said. "I thought you would say something like 'success requires focus, and entertainment is a luxury,' or some other grand theory."

"Great principles are often spoken to others; what one truly believes in is rarely spoken aloud."

Zhang Ruiyi tilted her head to one side: "Then tell me, what do you truly believe in?"

"Well, I believe that everyone's choices essentially answer one question: what are you willing to pay the price for? No choice is free. The difference is that some people think it through and are willing to pay, while others don't think it through and complain after paying."

"So you've thought it through?"

"Of course, I'm willing to pay the price for what I'm doing. The price of time, the price of being misunderstood by some, and the price of missing out on many wonderful things."

"For example?"

"For example, tonight, if Lu Hai hadn't suggested a victory party and I hadn't insisted on coming, I'd probably still be in my office smoking one cigarette after another, and when I woke up tomorrow morning, I'd find that another day had passed, just like yesterday. Right?"

Han Fei raised his eyes to see if Zhang Ruiyi would use those words to make fun of him, but he saw only joy leaping in her eyes.

"So what are you most afraid of?"

The question came at Han Fei like a whirlwind, catching him completely off guard. He instinctively tried to brush it off, wanting to say, "There's nothing to be afraid of," but the words caught in his throat.

"I'm afraid," Han Fei began, "that one day I'll wake up and find that nothing excites me anymore. I'm afraid that after I succeed, all that's left is success itself. I'm afraid that the things that made me grit my teeth and persevere will eventually become numbers on paper, or just something others say is amazing. And then I'll stand there, not knowing what to do next."

Zhang Ruiyi gazed thoughtfully at Han Fei, while simultaneously reaching into the glass, scooping out an ice cube, and holding it between two fingers. A drop of melting ice water slowly trickled down her wrist, through the slender gold bracelet, and down to her elbow.

"Want to dance, Han Fei?"

"I've never danced before, what if I trip you up?"

Zhang Ruiyi burst into laughter, spraying some of her drink onto Han Fei's suit jacket.

"I can teach you, it's very simple." She took a tissue and wiped Han Fei's suit lapel dry.

"Dance to this kind of music?"

The speaker was playing a languid panpipe version of "Let It Be," as sweet as syrup.

"What, are you still shy?" Zhang Ruiyi gently placed a hand on Han Fei's shoulder.

"Shall we start right away?" Han Fei asked.

What do you think?

Han Fei reached out and put his arm around Zhang Ruiyi's waist, then hesitated before taking a step forward.

"It feels like losing your virginity," Han Fei said, "but it's unavoidable; every man goes through this sooner or later."

"What are you talking about?" Zhang Ruiyi laughed.

"I'm telling you this is my first time dancing," Han Fei said, almost stepping on Zhang Ruiyi's high heels.

Zhang Ruiyi chuckled softly in Han Fei's ear: "Take it slow, that's fine."

......

It lay quietly on the shelf in the middle of the wardrobe's long garment section.

The first thought that popped into Wen Shuyan's mind was that it was a gun, not a real gun, but the kind of strangely shaped, futuristic gun that only appears in science fiction movies.

A target hung on the back panel of the wardrobe, its surface riddled with countless nail holes, and several nails were driven into the target near the bullseye. The nails had pierced through the target and were firmly embedded in the back panel of the wardrobe.

Wen Shuyan reached out her hands and carefully picked it up, only to find that the gun was much heavier than it looked.

She brought the gun closer to the light for a careful examination. It was a full forty centimeters long, slightly thicker than a mineral water bottle. The barrel was a section of PVC pipe with coils of copper wire wound around it. The coils were arranged with extreme precision; the spacing between each coil was so close to be visible to the naked eye that it appeared to have been precisely measured, like some kind of obsessive craftwork.

Three cylinders were connected between the coils, with the connectors wrapped in blue heat shrink tubing. Wen Shuyan thought the cylinders resembled the capacitors in a camera flash, only much larger.

A black handle extends from the rear of the barrel, with a red button on it. Next to it is a makeshift sight wrapped in insulating tape, which appears to be a modified old toy laser pointer. A battery compartment is located at the handle; it's heavy, shifting the gun's center of gravity rearward, clearly indicating it's filled with batteries.

Wen Shuyan checked the barrel again, and as expected, it contained an iron nail. As long as the red button on the handle was pressed, the iron nail would be fired like a bullet, with enough power to pierce through the wooden board.

Wen Shuyan put the gun back in the wardrobe, and she could picture Wen Jie alone in the room, adjusting the homemade toy gun again and again in front of the wardrobe back panel. He must have shown that focused and satisfied expression during the process, just like the expression he had when he took apart and reassembled a radio as a child and heard the static turn into clear human voice.

Therefore, Wen Shuyan did not think that Wen Jie had any purpose in making this gun. His curiosity about the laws of physics and his desire to realize them through technology were always pure, and sometimes he did not need any purpose at all.

But where did he go?

Wen Shuyan sat down on the edge of the bed, took out her phone, and made the call again.

No one heard.

She took a breath and tried to think calmly, without panicking or overthinking.

What did Wen Jie say to her on his first day at his new job?

Website. Publisher. Bluebird Publishing House. Han Fei.

Bluebird Publishing House!

She stood up, turned off the light, and left in a hurry.