Colleagues continued their chatter, but Liu Buli paid little attention. Dazed, he reached an intersection, hailed a taxi, and returned to his small apartment.
Perhaps it was the exhausting nightmare from that afternoon that lingered. Even though he had forgotten the specifics of the dream, the suffocating, breathless feeling it evoked still clung to him.
He felt as if he had forgotten something crucial.
But what could be so important?
Work was as he remembered it, no different from what he had handled before his nap. His colleagues were still his colleagues, their conversations, and their attitudes towards him, unchanged.
Even he himself was the same.
He didn't proactively engage with others when not required, nor did he have the inclination to foster closer relationships. After work, he returned home to a dark living room. Quiet and desolate, it was the consistent state of his life for many years.
The moment he opened the door, Liu Buli didn't know what he was expecting. Yet, for a fleeting instant, he had the illusion that upon opening the door, what lay beyond shouldn't be so empty.
Perhaps there should be a man inside, a man smiling at him. He would say he had already prepared dinner and drawn a hot bath. He would ask why he was home so late, then embrace him, nuzzle him gently, ask if he missed him, and ask him to return the embrace.
Like the most obedient big dog, his eyes would hold only him when looking at him. As if he were the only person in the world, that focused and earnest gaze was something no one else could offer.
Such a man...
How could he possibly exist?
Liu Buli raised his hand and smacked his forehead hard, then, dragging his weary body, he turned towards the bathroom to wash up and get ready.
The young women in the office were right; he read too many novels. Coupled with the amount of alcohol he had consumed that day and his somewhat disoriented state, it was utterly embarrassing to have conjured a boyfriend for himself.
But...
Perhaps in that dream, there really was such a boyfriend by his side.
Clinging to these jumbled thoughts, Liu Buli slept restlessly that night. Fortunately, he had no more distressing dreams. He only dreamt of a man, his face indistinct, standing in his dark home, turning on a light for him, embracing him, and saying, "Welcome home."
The dream was so warm that upon waking the next morning, Liu Buli felt an inexplicable sense of disorientation.
It seemed his recent workload and stress had indeed caused a mental imbalance. He needed to speak with Brother Zhang about getting a proper vacation to allow his mind to recover.
In the following days, Liu Buli chose to numb himself with work. Completely immersed in his tasks, he had little energy to consider anything else.
When one is utterly exhausted and overwhelmingly busy, they fall asleep the moment they hit the bed. They sleep too deeply to dream, and it is always the morning alarm that wakes them.
This routine continued for about a week.
Everyone in the office noticed Liu Buli's abnormal state. So, after another workday ended, before Liu Buli could even suggest it, Brother Zhang called him back. He informed him that he was being granted a week of paid leave. How he chose to spend it was his own business; he could travel or simply lounge at home. The only hope was that he would appear somewhat more normal upon his return to work, at least not like a soulless zombie he had been recently.
Listening to Brother Zhang, Liu Buli returned home and took a good look at himself in the mirror. His face had always been exceptionally beautiful, possessing a beauty that transcended gender, combining feminine allure with masculine spirit. Yet, looking at his reflection now, Liu Buli had to admit that Brother Zhang was right.
His complexion was as pale as death.
Calling him a soulless zombie was no exaggeration.
But why he was like this, Liu Buli could not fathom. He paced the living room a couple of times before retrieving his prized liquor.
He poured two glasses and downed them both. Maintaining a slightly tipsy state, Liu Buli went to the balcony and gazed at the distant sky.
When he abandoned his busy endeavors and quieted his mind, contemplating his recent life, that hollow feeling would once again envelop him completely.
He had definitely forgotten something very important.
So important that the mere thought of it sent a piercing ache through his heart.
Could he be truly ill?
No...
Pouring another glass of wine, Liu Buli held it and looked at the night sky. The night wind blowing against him brought only a biting cold. Yet, within that cold, Liu Buli felt a strange sensation. It was as if if he stayed there a little longer, someone would approach him, drape a coat over him, and smilingly tell him to take care of himself and not catch a cold.
But there had never been anyone like that...
Right, what did he usually do when he had nothing else to do?