The Rooftop Dream

In that dream, I would sit on the edge of a rooftop, my legs dangling as I gazed at the distant sunset.

I vaguely recalled adopting such a perilous posture only after learning “that incident.”

At the time, I had attempted to resist, even to plead, but all I received was cold indifference and mocking laughter.

They claimed destiny had ordained it, that things had been this way for centuries, so why should I demand special treatment?

I yearned to refute them, to ask, “Just because it has always been so, does that make it right?”

Yet, my mother’s silence and my father’s expectations rendered me incapable of uttering those words.

This bond of familial affection left me powerless to resist, forcing me to sink deeper into a mire of despair.

However, just when I believed my parents’ resolute stance stemmed from a lack of alternatives, I discovered her existence.

It turned out that I was the one destined to be abandoned from the very beginning. My role was to stand at the forefront, enduring all harm until my body was tattered and utterly broken.

She, in turn, would step upon my corpse, drawing nourishment from my sacrifice, seizing the love that should have been mine, and flourishing in happiness.

Yet, even knowing such a cruel truth, I could not bring myself to hate her. Instead, I poured all my love into her.

She was innocent; she knew nothing of the truth. From what I understood, she was kind, even adorably so. If she ever learned of all this, she would surely step forward to refuse such a heavy gift.

Thus, I confronted my father with the evidence. He calmly faced me, yet the fleeting sorrow and plea in his eyes betrayed his true thoughts.

I froze. They had never even intended to hide it, for they knew from the start that I would inevitably accept their overt scheme.

I had lost, utterly and completely.

From that moment, I felt as though I had lost everything. The daily torment nearly drained my soul, leaving me to wander the precipice between light and shadow, losing myself step by agonizing step.

So, I sat alone on the rooftop, savoring those fleeting moments of tranquility before anyone could discover me.

The wind on the rooftop was strong. I felt no fear; rather, a strange exhilaration.

Standing up, the view from such a height was magnificent. Even a forest forged of concrete and steel appeared so captivating.

Facing such a vast world, I gradually felt overcome by an impulse. My body, constrained by its narrow confines, yearned instinctively to break free from the space that imprisoned my very existence.

I wondered if, as I leaped into the boundless world, wings would sprout from my back.

Even without feathers, I was certain I could soar, reaching the liberation and freedom I yearned for.

“Classmate, it’s dangerous here. Let’s talk calmly, please don’t get agitated.”

A boy’s voice drifted from behind me, his tone carrying a feigned composure that barely masked his panic.

Anger surged from the depths of my heart. Could I not even have a moment of peace?

I turned to see a timid boy, drenched in sweat, his entire body trembling. It was clear he was incredibly nervous.

I found it utterly laughable.

In the past, countless exceptional young men had approached me. I knew some were drawn to my appearance, while others coveted my status and its inherent value.

Yet, they later suddenly distanced themselves. Even the man for whom I harbored a slight affection coldly informed me that he was not worthy of my liking.

“A young lady such as yourself, I am not yet worthy of you. However, please rest assured, I will always be your loyal fan. If you don’t mind, you may certainly choose me. But by then, perhaps our statuses will have undergone some changes…”

His smile held the sneer of a victor. It was only at this moment that I finally saw through his sordid intentions.

Knowing a person’s face does not mean knowing their heart. All his tenderness, politeness, and concern had merely been a disguise. He was no different from those other hypocritical men.

I slapped him. It was the first and last time I lost control of my emotions, committing such a disrespectful act.

“You will regret this,” he gritted out, then turned and left without a backward glance.

A phoenix in distress is inferior to a chicken. Had I truly fallen so low that I needed comfort from an introverted boy?

My voice was icy as I questioned, “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

He stammered an explanation. “Uh, I’m your classmate… I had a key to the rooftop. I always used it as my secret base. I just wanted to come up and hide for a bit, but then I saw you… trying to commit suicide…”

My classmate?

How could I not remember such a person in my class?

Wait, this gloomy face… could it be the disgusting otaku the girls gossiped about?

I frowned. “Who’s committing suicide?”

“No one, no one. It’s good you’re not committing suicide, good you’re not…”

He let out a sigh of relief, then, as if a floodgate had opened, he began to speak.

“I once heard that many people who attempt suicide regret it at the last moment. The evidence is that 90% of people who die from jumping off a building have injuries on their hands, elbows, or leg bones, because in the final moment, they adopt a bracing posture—they want to live.”

“You’re the goddess in the eyes of all us boys. No matter what, you can’t commit suicide. You’re so beautiful; there’s no need to go this far. So many people like you and are chasing you.”

“Look at me, I’m so unpopular, bullied every day, but I’ve never even thought about suicide.”

“I’m a very clumsy person; I can’t really say anything comforting or persuasive, but I know anyone who wants to commit suicide must be in great pain. If you’re in pain, you can tell others; don’t bottle it up, that will only make it worse.”

“Life isn’t about pursuing happiness; it’s about escaping pain. Even without happiness, you shouldn’t give up on life.”

The boy’s clumsy attempts to console me, as he racked his brains, struck me as amusing. Without realizing it, I found myself holding back laughter, and then, without realizing it, tears began to fall.

He was at a loss, scratching his head awkwardly.

Disturbed by him, my attempt to watch the sunset failed.

Yet, for the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of ease.

When was the last time someone cared about me?

From the girls, I had heard many rumors about this boy, but none of them matched this somewhat introverted, yet genuinely kind and sincere young man.

Simply speaking to me seemed to have exhausted his courage, and his continuous efforts to persuade me felt more like an attempt to mask his own inner nervousness.

Suddenly, I grew curious about him.

“What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

He froze, staring at me blankly.

“Aren’t we classmates? But I don’t know your name. Could you tell me?”

His face was filled with incredulous surprise, which then transformed into the ecstatic realization of *’the Goddess asked for my name.’*

His thoughts were plastered all over his face; he was truly too easy to read.

He smiled shyly. In the twilight, his cheeks were tinged with the crimson glow of dusk.

“My name is Ling Jiu. You’re Bai An An, right?”

“That’s right.”

I lightly hopped closer. Just as I was about to approach him, he instinctively retreated several steps, accidentally knocking his leg against a pipe and stumbling.

He quickly stood up, his gaze darting toward the exit, seemingly contemplating an escape.

*Was I some sort of monstrous beast?*

A sudden urge to tease him arose within me.

“Ling Jiu, classmate.”

He immediately straightened his back. “Here!”

“How about you call me An An?”

“Huh?”

He was dumbfounded. Then, as if giving up on thought entirely, he bolted towards the exit.

“Where are you going?”

“I just remembered there’s a gaming event tonight! I’m heading back!”

Clang!

Watching the boy stumble over a pipe again, falling face-first, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My stomach ached from laughing.

Honestly, why was there such an interesting person?

Had he never spoken to a girl before?

I knelt before him, asking curiously, “Ling Jiu, classmate, do you dislike me? Why are you running?”

“No, it’s just… it’s my first time properly talking to a girl, so I’m really nervous. And…”

He glanced at me, then lowered his head, whispering, “I’ve never spoken to a girl as pretty as you…”

Are you a primary schooler? I thought to myself.

“Since we’re so destined, why don’t we become friends?”

“This… isn’t this too fast?”

“Not boyfriend and girlfriend, but like-minded comrades.”

“Comrades?”

He shot to his feet, all traces of timidity vanishing, replaced by fervent passion. His eyes blazed with a fire that seemed to burn brightly.

“Have you read *Das Kapital*?”

“The one by Marx and Engels?”

“State and Revolution?”

“The one Lenin wrote?”

“The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains!”

Was this some strange game of word association?

I enjoyed reading; I knew a little about various types of books, but which young man would read books like these?

I tentatively replied, “They have a world to win?”

“Comrade!”

His expression, so excited it looked as though he might cry, startled me.

Comrade?

That address was far too peculiar, wasn’t it?

No, he was simply a strange person.

But, I didn’t seem to dislike it.

I smiled faintly. “Then, Comrade Ling Jiu, we are friends.”

He gave a sunny salute. “Yes, Comrade An An!”

****

The dream ended there, the subsequent memories seeming to blur. Although it was just a strange dream, it felt as though I had truly experienced it.

However, the boy named Ling Jiu always pulled me out of the narrative. It felt as though if “he” were “she,” there would be no sense of incongruity.

Speaking of which, how exactly did I come to know her? I have no recollection at all.

Well, I’ll just ask her tomorrow!