Η δ twilight είναι σαν ένα κομμάτι που σταδιακά στερεοποιείται κεχριμπάρι, τυλίγοντας απαλά την πόλη. Μέσα από το παράθυρο, η Τσεν Γιαφέν και η φίλη της Λιν Γουέι κάθονται απέναντι η μία από την άλλη στον άνετο καναπέ, δύο φλιτζάνια κόκκινο τσάι αναδύουν ατμό, αλλά δεν μπορούν να ζεστάνουν την καταθλιπτική θλίψη που έχει συσσωρευτεί στο μέτωπο της Τσεν Γιαφέν.

Τα δάχτυλα της Τσεν Γιαφέν τρίβουν ασυναίσθητα τον ζεστό τοίχο του φλιτζανιού, σαν να είναι το μόνο απτό πράγμα που μπορεί να πιάσει. Μόλις έχει τελειώσει έναν αθόρυβο ψυχρό πόλεμο με τον σύζυγό της, Ζοού Γκουοπίγκ, που προκλήθηκε από κάτι τόσο μικρό όσο η σκόνη — απλώς ήθελε να τον έχει μαζί της για μια βόλτα στο νέο υγρό πάρκο, αλλά εκείνος, όπως πάντα, απάντησε με την συνήθη του αδιαφορία, που σχεδόν μπορεί να συνθλίψει όλη την ενέργεια: “Γιατί να μην πας μόνη σου; Δεν έχω καμία διάθεση να κοιτάξω αυτά τα λουλούδια και τα φυτά.” Αυτά τα λόγια τα έχει ακούσει για τριάντα χρόνια, κάθε φορά σαν μια λεπτή παγωμένη αιχμή που τρυπάει την καρδιά της, αρχικά χωρίς να το καταλάβει, αλλά τώρα έχει γίνει ένα βουνό πάγου που δεν μπορεί να λιώσει.

Σηκώνει τα μάτια της και κοιτάζει τη Λιν Γουέι. Τα χείλη της Λιν Γουέι ανυψώνονται φυσικά, φέρνοντας μια αίσθηση χαλάρωσης που έχει αντιμετωπιστεί με τρυφερότητα από τη ζωή. Μόλις πριν λίγο, το τηλέφωνο της Λιν Γουέι χτύπησε, ήταν ένα ηχητικό μήνυμα από τον σύζυγό της, ρωτώντας αν θέλει να φάνε ατμόψαρο ή κόκκαλα χοιρινού, η φωνή του γεμάτη υπομονή και αγάπη σχεδόν ξεχείλιζε από την οθόνη. Η Λιν Γουέι απάντησε με ένα “Εσύ αποφάσισε”, και εκείνος αμέσως απάντησε με ένα χαριτωμένο emoji “Εντολή”.

Αυτή η έντονη αντίθεση, ήταν σαν ένα κλειδί που άνοιξε απότομα την πόρτα της καρδιάς της Τσεν Γιαφέν, γεμάτη με παράπονα και σύγχυση.

“Γουέι Γουέι, πραγματικά δεν καταλαβαίνω.” Η φωνή της Τσεν Γιαφέν ήταν κάπως ξηρή, αποπνέοντας μια αίσθηση αμηχανίας που δεν θα έπρεπε να έχει μια δικηγόρος όταν αναλύει μια υπόθεση, “Εκείνος έξω, με τους συναδέλφους, με τους φίλους, ακόμα και με τον πωλητή φρούτων στην είσοδο της γειτονιάς, μπορεί να μιλήσει με ζωντάνια, οι γέλιοι ακούγονται από μακριά. Αλλά μόλις επιστρέφει σπίτι, είναι σαν να έχει αλλάξει άνθρωπος. Μπροστά μου, φαίνεται ότι όλες οι λέξεις έχουν εξαντληθεί. Στο σαλόνι, η σιωπή είναι τόσο βαριά που μόνο ο ήχος της τηλεόρασης ακούγεται, και… η σιωπή ανάμεσά μας, είναι τόσο καταπιεστική που δεν μπορώ να αναπνεύσω.”

Κάνει μια παύση, σαν να προσπαθεί να καταπνίξει το σφίξιμο στον λαιμό της: “Μην πεις ότι δεν μιλάμε, ακόμα και να τον ζητήσω να κάνει κάτι τόσο απλό, είναι σαν να τον παρακαλώ. Να πάμε στο πάρκο, δεν έχει ενδιαφέρον; Να πάμε σε ένα τσαγιέρα, το θεωρεί θόρυβο. Αυτό το σπίτι, για εκείνον είναι απλώς ένα ξενοδοχείο; Όχι, ένα ξενοδοχείο χρειάζεται να κάνεις check-in, αλλά αυτός έρχεται και φεύγει ελεύθερα, ούτε καν βασική επικοινωνία δεν θέλει.”

Όσο μιλούσε, γινόταν όλο και πιο ενθουσιασμένη, η καταπιεσμένη οργή της βρήκε μια διέξοδο: “Ακριβώς γι’ αυτό, κοίτα τον Σιαο Χουί (τον γιο τους), είναι τριάντα τριών, ούτε καν μια σοβαρή κοπέλα δεν θέλει να έχει. Κάθε φορά που το αναφέρω, λέει, ‘Μαμά, βλέποντας εσάς και τον μπαμπά, νιώθω ότι είναι καλύτερα να είμαι μόνος, ήσυχος.’ Γουέι Γουέι, στην καρδιά μου… νιώθω σαν να με κόβει μαχαίρι. Είναι εμείς, εγώ και ο μπαμπάς του, που τρομάξαμε όλες τις επιθυμίες του για γάμο!”

Η Λιν Γουέι δεν απάντησε αμέσως, απλώς άκουγε ήσυχα, το βλέμμα της γεμάτο κατανόηση και συμπόνια. Περίμενε μέχρι η Τσεν Γιαφέν να ηρεμήσει λίγο, και τότε αναστέναξε απαλά, η φωνή της ήρεμη αλλά με μια δύναμη που διαπερνά την καρδιά: “Γιαφέν, στην πραγματικότητα… όλα έχουν τους λόγους τους.”

“Λόγοι; Ποιοι λόγοι; Μήπως δεν τα κάνω καλά; Μήπως ήμουν πολύ επικεντρωμένη στη δουλειά και τον αγνόησα; Ή μήπως είναι από τη φύση του έτσι, ένας αδιάφορος άνθρωπος;” Η Τσεν Γιαφέν ρώτησε συνεχώς, σαν να ανακρίνει μάρτυρα στο δικαστήριο, ανυπόμονα προσπαθώντας να βρει την μοναδική, καταδικαστική απάντηση.

Η Λιν Γουέι shook her head, she knew her best friend too well. In court, Chen Yafen is a sharp-tongued, logically sound lawyer who can always hit the opponent's loopholes. But she brought this "debate" thinking back home completely. At home, where is the place to argue about winning or losing?

“Do you remember a few days ago?” Lin Wei tried to guide her, “We were listening to music, arguing about that bel canto singer and that pop singer. I said I was a ‘fan’ of that pop singer and really liked his songs. You were very unhappy at that time, very seriously corrected me, saying ‘I am not a fan of anyone, the word fan is too blind, I just appreciate some of his works,’ and then you spent more than ten minutes explaining to me in detail what rational appreciation is and what irrational worship is.”

As Lin Wei spoke, she smiled helplessly: “You see, just this little thing, something that should have been a light and pleasant chat about music, you immediately elevated it to a level that requires strict definition and debate. You insisted on proving your attitude is more advanced and more correct. Your seriousness at that time made me not know how to respond, it felt like I was not chatting with a friend, but participating in a thesis defense.”

Chen Yafen was stunned, she vaguely remembered that this did happen, but never thought there was anything wrong with it. Isn’t it right to pursue accuracy and truth?

“Yafen,” Lin Wei's voice became softer, but every word was clear, “If you treat me like this, how do you treat Brother Zhou? Don’t you often do this? If he casually says ‘today this dish is a bit salty,’ you might not be thinking ‘oh, put less salt next time,’ but immediately enter ‘defense’ mode, starting to quote references to refute him: ‘Where is it salty? What is the standard intake? The salt I put is completely within a healthy range!’ If he praises a female colleague for being capable, you might not think it’s casual chat, but subconsciously start to ‘question’ him: ‘Where is she capable? What specific projects has she done? Is she better than me?’”

Lin Wei's words were like a mirror polished to a shine, suddenly held up in front of Chen Yafen, making her see an unfamiliar image of herself — not a wife, but more like a lawyer always ready to catch the other’s verbal loopholes and retaliate.

“Home is a place for feelings, not a place for reasoning.” Lin Wei held her cold hand, “You always hope Brother Zhou accommodates you, accompanies you to do what you want to do. But accommodation doesn’t come from nowhere, it comes from love, from comfort and willingness. Have you thought about it? Why doesn’t he want to chat with you? Maybe it’s not because there’s nothing to say, but because he’s afraid. Afraid that any casual remark will trigger your rigorous logical analysis and an unnecessary argument. He hides in silence, perhaps just because that’s the only corner where he feels safe.”

“You long for his company, but have you invited him in a way that makes him feel relaxed? You say ‘let’s go to the park,’ and after he refuses, the war begins. Have you ever tried a different approach? For example, ‘Honey, I see your shoulder has been uncomfortable lately, I heard that walking can help, will you accompany me for a walk, and I can also massage your shoulder?’ Or ‘That tea house has your favorite dried tangerine peel red bean paste, come with me to try it, and after we can go to the bookstore next door to browse the military section you like.’”

“What you want is the result — him accompanying you. But the process and method determine whether this result is a willingly sweet experience or a reluctant task. Thoughtfulness and softness are not submission, but wisdom. Like water, it avoids hard stones to ultimately reach the desired destination.”

Lin Wei looked at her gradually changing expression, knowing that she had absorbed some of these words: “Why does my husband want to accommodate me? It’s not because I’m better than you, but because I almost never place our relationship in a ‘confrontational’ mode. When I ask him to accompany me to do something, he feels it’s a pleasant shared experience, not a ‘trial’ that requires vigilance and may erupt into an argument at any moment. He relaxes, and naturally, he is willing to get closer.”

“Yafen, put down your ‘legal clauses’ and ‘arguments,’ and try to package what you want him to do as something that will also bring him joy. Treat him as… as the ‘party’ you most want to win over, not to conquer him with words, but to ‘tempt’ him back home with understanding.”

That night, Chen Yafen couldn’t sleep. She repeatedly chewed on Lin Wei’s words, recalling countless fragments from thirty years of marriage. She was horrified to discover that she really was like a machine set to “debate mode,” always subconsciously looking for “flaws” in her husband’s words, then striking precisely to prove her correctness and the other’s “errors.” She won countless verbal debates but lost the warmth of the entire marriage.

A few days later, it was another weekend. The sun was shining brightly, streaming through the glass window onto the floor. Zhou Guoping was sitting on the sofa reading the newspaper. Chen Yafen took a deep breath, walked over, and instead of directly saying “let’s go to the park” like before, she sat beside him, deliberately softening her voice: “Guoping, look how nice the weather is today. Didn’t you say your shoulder was a bit sore last time? Sitting for too long isn’t good. How about… we go out for a walk? Just to accompany me for a stroll, and when we come back, I’ll use the new moxibustion patch on you, I heard it works well.”

After she finished speaking, her heart was slightly tense. She anticipated various rebuttals and indifference.

Zhou Guoping looked up from the newspaper, a bit surprised to glance at her. Her face didn’t have the usual stubbornness and aggressiveness after being rejected, but rather a gentle warmth he hadn’t seen in a long time, even a bit cautious. He was silent for a few seconds, and those brief seconds felt like a century to Chen Yafen.

Finally, he put down the newspaper and stood up: “Alright. Sitting for too long does make me a bit numb. … That moxibustion patch, does it really work?”

Chen Yafen’s heart suddenly fell back to reality, a mix of sourness and slight joy surged up. She tried to smile: “We’ll find out if we try, right?”

That afternoon, they really went to the park. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light spots on the ground, and there were many couples of similar age to them, walking hand in hand at a leisurely pace. They still didn’t talk much, but the suffocating silence had disappeared. Occasionally, Chen Yafen would point to a blooming flower and say, “This color is really beautiful,” and Zhou Guoping would respond with an “Mm,” and even add, “Not as beautiful as the pot of roses you used to plant on the balcony.”

An ordinary sentence almost brought Chen Yafen to tears. It turned out he wasn’t out of words; it was just that in the past, she had blocked all the paths.

On the way back, they passed by the tea house they had previously debated whether to go to. Chen Yafen stopped, and this time she didn’t say “let’s go have tea,” but instead said: “Are you tired from walking? How about we go in and take a break? I remember you love their pu-erh.”

Zhou Guoping looked at her and nodded: “That’s fine.”

Sitting in the tea house, the aroma of tea wafted. Chen Yafen didn’t try to discuss the origin, year, or brewing methods of the tea like before, but quietly poured tea for him. Zhou Guoping took a sip and suddenly said: “Actually… this place is not bad, not as noisy as I imagined.”

Chen Yafen lowered her head, looking at the tea leaves floating in the cup, as if she saw her little boat that had been lost in the ocean of marriage for a long time, finally catching sight of a distant, warm lighthouse.

It turned out that the road to happiness has never been a straight path that requires meticulous calculation and fierce competition, but a winding path that requires mutual accommodation and consideration. It took her thirty years, only to find the entrance with her friend’s reminder.

And indeed, everything has its reasons.