"Get on Her Boat" - Chapter 106: Drunken Sexual Misconduct

She knew far more than that.
Some things are like long needles driven into the bone marrow, only causing a dull pain at certain times.
They couldn't be found by touch, nor could they be pulled out; they had already grown into the flesh and blood.
In her second year of high school, she found a box of condoms in her father's car. It was already opened and there weren't many left, and her father had been staying out all night several times. A sixteen-year-old girl couldn't bear such fear, so she immediately told her mother.
Then, just as she had witnessed the death of a duckling in her childhood, she witnessed how her parents' already dying marriage, on the verge of collapse, burst forth with a powerful vitality—
The father kept saying he "loved that woman," but the mother stubbornly refused to get a divorce; just when the mother was in despair, the father suddenly changed his mind.
They're like a pair of mediocre actors, their script poorly written but they're too immersed in their roles, so they just keep going through this grotesque show, filled with mutual hatred and insults. And they've both forgotten that there are lone audience members in the audience.
The only one who was disgusted was Wan Zi.
From then on, she feared marriage, avoided intimate relationships, and hated infidelity and cheating; but the person she hated most was her father.
He was the one who raised her, and he was also the one who betrayed her family. Love instantly turned into hatred, and she wanted to kill him. The night the secret was exposed, she seemed to age prematurely overnight. She stopped giving him those silly nicknames, stopped saying another word to him, and even stopped calling him "Dad."
She initially thought this childish resistance would be difficult to sustain. But as it turned out, it was incredibly easy to put into practice.
A child who is determined to leave the small town and stay in the big city to study and work will only see their parents for a few dozen days in the few years they spend there.
Time flies.
In her first year after graduating from university, Wan Zi officially became an office worker, one of the most inconspicuous yet hardworking seven million people in Hong Kong's crowded streets.
One night, while working overtime, she suddenly received a voice message from her father.
Her work was interrupted, and her tone was hard to soften: "Wan Yong'an, is there something you need?"
"...Well, I'm thinking of going to Hong Kong soon. Do you have time to meet up?"
His tone was stiff and casual, like a hollow terracotta brick, pressed down by her silence, and finally crumbling apart.
"Never mind if you're busy."
"some."
Time, like water, has long since diluted Wanzi's hatred for her father into indifference. No matter how cold her heart may be, they are still family.
She agreed as if it were the next difficult project, and even treated him like a client, booking his plane tickets and itinerary, displaying a thorough yet ruthless professionalism and objectivity.
However, Dad didn't even finish the first day's itinerary. After dinner in Causeway Bay, Wanzi wanted to take him to see the horse races, but he was listless, and even his forced smiles were weary.
"I have gout and can't walk."
This chronic arthritis is a common ailment among residents of this small town who love seafood, and Dad was no exception. So, instead of her, he became the one who couldn't keep up during the trip.
As night fell and it was still early, she led him to Victoria Park to rest, and bought two soft serve ice creams from the ice cream truck. The purest vanilla milk flavor was a taste unique to the old days, sweet and ethereal.
Licking at the cream, they sat silently on a bench at the entrance of Victoria Park.
Lush greenery and the sounds of birds and insects create a tranquil oasis in Causeway Bay. A bustling commercial district lies nearby, where the gentle tinkling of bells echoes through the air. Red and green advertisements, more eye-catching than a sea of neon lights, proclaim "Christmas Sale."
It's Christmas season again.
Do you remember? I bought you a Christmas tree before.
Gazing at those points of light, Dad was the first to break the silence.
"Hmm." Knowing he was struggling to make conversation, Wan Zi replied softly, "You've bought me a lot of things."
"Because you liked everything when you were little."
"Yo-yo, four-wheel drive cars, Barbie dolls..." Dad suddenly laughed as he thought of something. "Oh right, you also insisted on raising a duck back then, the dyed kind, and I couldn't persuade you otherwise... You were too young, and I didn't have the heart to tell you it wouldn't survive..."
"Indeed, it couldn't be kept alive; it died in less than a week."
She took a big gulp of ice cream, the icy sensation instantly chilling her to the bone. Immersed in a masochistic pleasure, Wanzi slowly opened her eyes.
The past events that once tore my heart apart are not as painful to recall now.
"It's better that it died. If it had survived by chance, it would have faded and become ugly, turning into an ordinary old Muscovy duck weighing a dozen pounds. Before long, it would still have been caught and roasted by my mother."
“No, your mother isn’t that kind of person,” Dad said seriously. “She thinks Muscovy duck is best stewed, with cordyceps flowers added.”
Almost instinctively, Wan Zi and he exchanged a smile.
In her childhood, she and her father were little allies in the face of her fiery-tempered mother. Whenever she was scolded and cried by her mother, her father would always chime in with a few words, but once she calmed down, his approach was always the same—
Don't be angry with your mother. She's just a little harsh in her methods, but she actually loves you very much.
At that time, she didn't understand that this was a common comforting phrase used by adults; nor did she know how to organize her thoughts to tell her father that even if you love someone very much, if your methods are wrong, it is a waste of love.
But by the time she finally understood, it was too late.
My father has exhausted all his love for his family.
"Wan Yong'an, so when are you going to divorce my mother?"
Even though the ice cream didn't contain any alcohol, Wan Zi seemed to be intoxicated. Her smile froze for a moment, but when her father spoke again, his voice was perfectly calm.
"We didn't divorce back then, and we won't divorce now."
Why not?
I never expected him to bring up "back then" on his own initiative, and his tone was completely flat, as if he were discussing an inanimate object.
Wan Zi's hidden anger immediately flared up, but she tried her best to suppress it with a cold sneer—
"You two have no feelings for each other. You've been arguing like this for so many years. Don't you get tired of it?"
"And speaking of 'back then'...didn't you cheat on me back then? Didn't you say you wanted a divorce?"
"Didn't you say you were going to leave with nothing because you couldn't stand my mom anymore?"
Her voice rose higher and higher involuntarily, her words sharp as knives, tempered by fire and poison, carrying a mixture of pleasure and hatred, pulling out and plunging in again. It was always her closest relatives who knew her weaknesses best; she always knew how to slowly torture the man before her.
She waited for him to roar back, but he just looked at her silently, his expression as calm and gentle as a beast of burden, almost like a sacrificial holy light.
It felt like punches were landing on cotton; this sense of powerlessness drove her to utter rage: "Back then, I was too young to understand. I begged you not to separate. You kept telling me and my mother that you loved that woman."
"What? You're not getting a divorce in the end?" She laughed angrily, gritting her teeth and enunciating each word clearly, "Looks like you weren't that in love after all, were you?"
The questions rang in his ears, but he remained unmoved, his expression unchanged. Only the ice cream in his hand was dripping with cold, cloying tears.
Then he looked up and whispered, barely drowning out her rapid, uninterrupted breathing.
"Weren't you going to kill me?"
"……What?"
Wan Zi was stunned.
"Back then, when I wanted a divorce, didn't you want to kill me?"
"I don't--"
She launched into a fierce rebuttal, but it seemed as if she had stumbled and fallen in an instant.
My heart sank even lower.
Yes, there are.
When she discovered her father's infidelity, she did indeed want to kill him.
On that night when her parents were arguing to the extreme, and her mother was wailing until she could shed no more tears, the sixteen-year-old girl was on the verge of collapse, unable to bear the torment any longer. So, after her father fell asleep, she took a kitchen knife and sat on the edge of his bed.
Her hands trembled without her realizing it, accompanied by her father's uneven breathing, like a captivating Disney animated film, as she was about to steal the golden egg under the guard of a dragon.
然而事实是，汗水滴入眼睛，视野时而清楚时而模糊。她在这种间隙里，忍着剧烈的砰砰心跳，不断调整刀刃位置，试图一举砍下爸爸的头颅。
她当然没有成功。
是妈妈拦住了她，哭着说“我这辈子也就这样了，不要因为他再搭上你的人生”；妈妈还说，别这么做，他毕竟是你的爸爸。
彼时万姿只想大吼大叫，这个男人才不是她爸爸，他怎么会背叛家庭，他陌生得甚至对死亡都无知无觉，无动于衷。
可在被妈妈夺走菜刀那刻，她就泄了所有力气，连句成形的话都没有。
像是决堤河流，点滴回忆奔涌着翻覆而至。
此时此刻回过味来，万姿只觉得有种悲哀的荒唐。
在那个炼狱般的夜晚，叁口之家各怀鬼胎，怎么可能有人睡得着。
爸爸一直在看她，看她握着刀走进来，坐下来，把锋利如弯月的刃口对准他。
那是昏暗卧房里的唯一一抹光，但也比不上她的泪眼明亮。
从此之后，他再也不提离婚。
“你小时候，连只小鸭子的尸体都不敢碰。”
万姿不知道爸爸为何说这个，可他就是说了。
他笑得轻松，也轻松地简直把她心脏攥在掌中，慢慢挤压揉搓，酿出酸楚血浆。
“我不后悔。”
同样地，她不知道自己为何说这个。
然而爸爸只是和她四目相对，他们的眼眸是一模一样的褐黑。
“我知道。”
“我真的下得了手。”
她的声音已经在颤栗了。
“我知道。”
咬紧牙关，猛掐大腿，可当爸爸出声时，万姿终究溃不成军。
树影婆娑，温柔地掩映着石凳。她在阴影中漾出泪意，又逼自己收回。
为什么，人要背负如此深重的爱恨，扭曲又无言，生生捱过这么长时间。
她是，爸爸也是。
“我只是希望你和妈妈都过得好，哪怕不在一起过。”
“你跟妈妈不相爱就算了，好聚好散不行吗，给我点时间消化，我不是接受不了。我是接受不了你出轨，非要偷，非要骗。”
酸楚滋味再度沁出，她难忍得只能深呼吸，再慢慢地吐：“反正，如果现在你想和妈妈离婚，无论出于什么原因，不想跟她过了也好，想跟换个人过也好……”
“只要妈妈愿意，我没有反对意见。”
这是少女时代的万姿，永远不会说的话。
那时她只想爸爸迷途知返，回归家庭，她宁可他振振有词自己不过“犯了全天下男人都会犯的错”，也不要他用对那个女人的奋不顾身来暗示她，原来她的原生家庭才是错误。
在她自幼生长的小城，社会关系是张细密的网，以供有心人捕风捉影。他们在闲言碎语时，是不会把小孩子当人看的。
于是，她便知道了所有事情。
爸爸还不是爸爸时，他在读小城最好的高中，他交了个人生中第一个女朋友，也就是那个女人。
在最意气风发的年纪，他们传纸条，骑单车，备战高考，憧憬共赴一所大学的未来。然而现实发展就是这么俗套，那个女人考上了，爸爸却落榜了。
世界就此被割为两半，一对有情人各自一端。
女人留在大学所在的大城市闯荡，爸爸则读了个不怎么样的大专，做了几份不怎么样的工作，最后靠开出租车为生，和女人分道扬镳成了必然。
失意落魄最助长一时冲动，就像借酒其实浇不灭哀愁，在一个酩酊大醉的夜晚，他和一向爱慕他的大排档老板之女上了床。
酒后乱性没有保护措施，怀孕不是意外而是注定。这在小城是件不大不小的丑闻，奉子成婚则是最体面的收场。
给彩礼，收嫁妆，闹洞房，迎接新生命，拼命挣奶粉钱，面对昔日痴恋他如今骂他窝囊的老婆……他就像不知疲倦踩滚轮的仓鼠，甚至没有思考这一切的时间。
等少年回过神来，他已人到中年。
中年危机是有钱人的特权，可以买跑车追年轻女孩。普通人如他，只能坐在自己的破烂出租车里，等客时慢慢点一支烟，漫无边际地发呆。
然而，现实发展果然就是这么俗套，他等来了她。
世界上有这么多小城，小城里有这么多的士，那个阔别已久的女人，唯独上了他的那辆。
兜兜转转，她依旧孑然单身，而且事业坎坷。显然，大城市不是旧情人，不会抚慰所有心碎者。
而这种抚慰，有了第一次，就会有第二次。
家庭与绮梦拉扯，他人生中第一次混淆油门与刹车，煎熬又不舍地，冲向悬崖，一往无前。
直到被女儿发现。
“那个女的……有家庭了吗。”
爸爸沉默的时间实在太长，万姿忍不住从中截断。终于有一日，她可以跟他如成人般平等地对谈。
可再怎么开明，谈及他的出轨对象，她依旧心存膈应。避开他的目光，她难得啰嗦且不免局促。
“如果她是单身，你们还互相喜欢，要过就在一起过吧……放我妈自由，这样她也能再找一个她喜欢的……”
“如果她不是单身，我觉得你还是别想了……说明人家已经翻篇了，已经有了新生活……”
“总之你现在和她还有联系吗，有的话——”
“她啊……”
“已经死了。”
被人扼住咽喉般，万姿猝然收声。眼睛真如缺氧似地瞪大，定定锁着爸爸。
“啊？”
“……她长了坏东西。”
这是小城说法，指代一切令人讳莫如深的恶性肿瘤。
爸爸方言讲惯了，就连普通话也略带乡音，伴随低沉的男人声线，浮着一种无能为力，质朴而漠然。
“所以没办法。”
“什么时候的事情。”
在震惊中勉强发声，万姿头一次发现，人的味蕾原来也是后知后觉。
否则为何咽下霜淇淋这么久了，此刻舌根却泛起稀薄的苦味。
“前段时间吧。”
爸爸倒是出奇的镇定，甚至捉到她的错愕时，一笑置之。
“都是这样的……你们这代分开了，就是各过各的……我们这代分开了，很多说没了就没了。”
顿了顿，唯恐她误解似的，他又很快补充：“当年……之后我一直没跟她联系。”
“是有共同的同学帮忙丧事，然后跟我说的。”
扼在咽喉的手持续施力，万姿说不出话来。
刹那间，她恍然明白爸爸为什么要来香港，离开小城一段时间，呼吸陌生城市的一口空气。
但如果她不问，他什么也不会说。
“没事没事，你还可以找别人，不要想那么多……”
“实在不行离婚了，留在香港住一段时间，你跟我妈分开住也挺好的，这里什么人都有……”
心跳得无序猛烈，明明该感到痛快的，可万姿几乎是在胡言乱语。就像骑上少年时期流行的死飞单车，把疾风景色甩在身后，明知接踵而至就是超级大拐弯，慌张又要装腔——
然后，她被人握住了车龙头。
那句小城方言散在偌大的公园里，只有她能懂。他在笑，也在摆手。
“万姿，爸爸是老人啦。”
心瞬间空了。
紧接着所有情绪猛地涌来，低头捂住脸，万姿泣不成声。
原来二十几岁的人了，在某一刻总会重回童年，一样哭得泪雨滂沱。
“不要哭啊。”
窸窸窣窣，是爸爸从口袋掏出纸巾递给她。如今，他的确和所有勤俭节约的老人家相似，在哪家餐馆吃饭，就一定会带走哪家的纸巾。
可他分明又露出那种亲切而疲惫的神色，跟十几年前，带她埋葬小鸭子时，如出一辙。
“没办法的，这是没有办法的事情。”
如果时光可以倒流，回到十几年前，回到新旧世纪交替之际。
那时，千年虫危机阴霾散去，小城正流行过圣诞节，《英雄》是本土第一部真正意义上的大片，世界的主色调是后来被归为“y2k风格”的梦幻粉紫色，所有人都在快快乐乐地拥抱千禧年。
她不过是一介小孩，却像任何朝气蓬勃的年轻人一样，觉得她活在最好的年代，大家都有光明的未来。
尤其是她，有个无所不能的父亲。
但她并不知道，《英雄》中，刺客残剑、飞雪、无名永远不会老去，因为他们死在了电影里。
可在父亲牵着她走出影剧院的那一刻，在父亲给她解释剧情的那一刻，在父亲笑着问她以后要嫁甄子丹还是李连杰的那一刻，岁月已经决绝地，一格格向前走。
Generation after generation, never to look back.
"Don't cry, silly child. There's nothing we can do. Everyone gets old."
She would always remember that night, in the quiet Victoria Park. Looking up in vain to stop the raindrops from falling, skyscrapers soared into the clouds, illuminating the dark sky, yet reminding her of Van Gogh's "Starry Night".
The difference between the two is like the difference between world-weariness and childlike innocence.
Through her blurred vision, she saw another pair of tearful eyes, filled with a thousand words, yet ultimately falling silent.
He never cried; from beginning to end, he simply looked at her calmly and spoke calmly.
"And also, Wan Zi. I owe you something, something I've never said..."
"I'm sorry for all these years, Dad."

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"Get on Her Boat" - Chapter 106: Drunken Sexual Misconduct

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