Original article: https://weibo.com/6596396544/KkVEp7NPS
Original author: Addison20999
Chengdu Lower Half Repo
(Only watched lower half and read the book, Seat was 1280￥)
I knew that he would be lying on the hospital bed, hence once I entered I was arranging my binoculars to look at him. I only saw the blanket pile, he was sleeping under it, not moving, like a little mound. The blanket was like the curtain, fully covering him, and it also meant that the story had not started yet. The female doctor was already in character, she was at the foot of the bed, moving her hands with the rhythm of breathing.
Then it was the warm reminder, the stage became dark, then the light came onto the hospital room. The story has begun.
There was heavy breathing in the background, “In~ out~ in~ out~”, the doctor was still performing her ritual.
Suddenly, No. 5 drew open his blanket and questioned her, the heavy breathing had annoyed this man who had a fever for many years. (This was my first time seeing him and his No. 5, his face was so clear before my binoculars, I was slightly stunned, hence this part of the repo might be very “subconscious”.)
No. 5 started telling his story to the doctor, the story where he went to seek Gu Xianglan. At the other end of the stage, the story was also being performed. The No. 5 today sat on his hospital bed, he was deep in thoughts as he looked across to his experience, and started filling up the story being enacted then. As he said, he looked across the audience, there was an instant where he looked past me, and on my end it felt like we locked gaze. What kind of eyes are those, so bright and clear, there was no possibility to explore or think about what kind of lines created such alluring eyes. When I’m seeing him live, I can only see his bright gaze, I can’t see anything else!
Luckily, the No. 5 on the hospital bed was a narrator, I still had ears.
The voice in the lines were No. 5’s, the No. 5 who was being crafted in the play. The resonance from his chest voice, the lines were superb, they carried the discomfort from No. 5’s illness, they were low, helpless but not deliberate, very natural, and every syllable was clear. (Lines in plays are really important, especially when many people spoke at the same time, if you weren’t clear no one would understand what you’ve said, the lower half had Shanghainese dialect, and even though I’m from Zhejiang, I wouldn’t really understand every dialect, so having good lines is really important!) Xiao Zhan’s voice was like a piano, it’s already so gentle and attractive, when he adds in the sickly tone and the melancholic emotion, truly, only those who heard it would understand.
Very soon, No. 5 went off stage, and soon it was old Gu Xianglan narrating her story with the Baron, or rather, the past lives of No. 5 and his wife. This story was very long, it encompassed Shanghai and France, it encountered republic era, World War II, the French restoration from occupation to 1966 when Wang Debao passed away, it spoke of Gu Xianglan lifetime as a man’s plaything seeking the true nature of art, abandoned and becoming a road sweeper, a maid and a nanny, and finally returning to Shanghai with Wang Debao. Xu Qing is undoubtedly an actress who could influence her audience very well, I had seen a lot of cliché stories before, but yet I was drawn into her Gu Xianglan’s life as a famous courtesan in a high class brothel, as a famous French artist in the saloon…
After Gu Xianglan ended her resentment with the Baron in her own method, the No. 5 who came to ask about old Gu Xianglan was about to appear.
When it was still gloomy, I discovered that the central stage had many shadows overlapping, as though there were many patient beds in a row. When the light lit up the stage, No. 5 was holding old Gu Xianglan’s spotted hands, side seated by the bed, deeply concerned and patient as he listened to the old lady talk about her life. The old lady was already dying, it was unclear if she mistook him or she saw the true nature of it, she called No. 5 “Henry”, the man who abandoned her to the chaos of France. Old Gu Xianglan spoke to No. 5 the words she never managed to tell the Baron, and from that she found her closure, release and the relief from feeling that they no longer owed each other anything. Whereas No. 5’s emotions was affected by Gu Xianglan, he said, when he saw Gu Xianglan being upset, he was upset too. Perhaps because this was also a part of No. 5’s story, he was already within the story, and naturally he could not help himself.
I could only see No. 5’s side profile, I saw a side profile of very smooth lines, very different from the adorable him when he just debuted, the collagen at his current age is just too perfect, there weren’t too much or too little, the lines and his bone structure combined together to sculpt all kinds of stories.
After Gu Xianglan passed away, No. 5 walked around the stage, it was very different from how Xiao Zhan usually walked, the theme for this part of the story was “redemption” and “closure”, it was the long gloomy day, the sudden calm that came after a lifetime of glory and tribulations. When he walked before the audience, and looked at us with his already red and puffy eyes, how could anyone not be touched by him? He stood there, his eyes reddened and full of tears, his expression helpless and sorrowful. I thought, I was already absorbed into that story because of his gaze, I really wanted to hug him so that he wouldn’t be so upset. I could not bear to let him stand there, so frail, and allow him to go through so much trials because of his previous lifetime! But, he was No. 5, his happiness and sorrow had been predetermined by that previous lifetime, I could not help him, I could only watch from afar, watch his life be crushed without reason, shattered, pieced together again, and barely survive. He could only bring his luggage away from us, and leave us with a slightly hunched shadow. This path was so long, and he walked so long.
At the end of the road, was a late farewell in the lower half. He returned to Jiang Hong’s apartment, with heavy panting, he took a long time to climb that staircase. I was regretful that I didn’t watch the upper half to make comparisons.
He opened the non-existent door to the apartment, in that apartment he looked over to the white chapel faraway. In that instant, I felt that he coincided with the Gu Xianglan, who also looked over to a chapel as she drew in a dark attic, it was the keen loneliness and desolation that connected both of them.
No. 5 found the letter Jiang Hong left for him in the floorboards, he kneeled on the ground as he read, first it was his voice and Jiang Hong’s, then Jiang Hong continued reading solo. Jiang Hong described how she lived after No. 5 left her, perhaps it was also Gu Xianglan’s thoughts after the Baron left her: “Instead of letting that period of time extend to become an eternity of memory, I’d rather live fully in that period.”, “You and I could have such a period of time together, and it was so good, that’s great”… As the letter was being read, No. 5’s teardrops fell drop by drop, these teardrops were not teardrops, but they were the mixture of emotions, every drop, was the resonance to a long sorrow, the yearning of the short-lived happiness, the saudade for those who left him… The man kneeled before me on an empty stage, his surging emotions crystalizing into teardrops that crashed onto my heart. I didn’t think of wiping away his tears, because he was No. 5, he needed to complete his life journey on stage. Following the thread of fates, he came to the place where the Baron and his African lady lived and met his daughter from his previous timetime. Thereafter, he sat there alone, and gave himself to the surrounding sorrow left behind by his fate.
Finally, he returned to the castle, carrying his completed handicraft, although his emotions were like he was still walking through the gloom, he had already put on his coat of polite smiles. After all the twists and turns, once again he returned to the lake side, this time, it was a special millennium eve ritual: to place all the things you do not want to bring into the millennium, such as illness, wars, inequality and all that is bad, into a box and throw it into the lake – “let all the things you do not want to bring with you stay in that mysterious space”.
The ritual started, singing, applause, cheering, dancing, flowers and hugging. But “smiles and songs do not belong to him”, No. 5 stood with his back facing us, quietly watching the lake in the distance, it was like he was a traveler tossed here from a mysterious space, in the chaos of light and shadow, interlaced in the cheering crowd. Was he really able to leave the things he didn’t want to bring with him behind? Everything was preordained in the cycle of fate, in the predestination, everyone had to face the consequences of their actions, no matter whether it was this lifetime, or the next lifetime. Perhaps this also indicated the closure between Gu Xianglan and the Baron, that it would no longer impact the next lifetime.
He stood by the lake, stood in his own world, and I could not get in.
After completing the farewell in No. 5’s life, we have to bid farewell to him as well. In this scene, he was the observer, he simply stood still. The half beam of warm light could not light up the entire darkness, I could only see his face. Precisely because he stood still, hence I had the chance to study and record him into my memory. Even light would fall in love with his side profile, brow bone, the outlines of his eyes, his nose, his philtrum, his lips, the clear jawline, smooth, clean, exquisite – these were my only sensations. I worked hard to hold onto my binoculars, but it was unavoidable as my hands shook when I breathed. As they shook, I subconsciously fell into a surreal state, it was like an exquisite porcelain doll, like an extraordinarily crafted human CG effect, even went beyond the boundaries of gender. He stayed still, so far and so frail, as though if I “shook” harder, he would disappear on the spot, and that would be all my fault. Really, photographs and videos could not record such beauty, it could convey beauty, but not the whole beauty, and this perhaps was left for us to see him vividly in life.
Finally, he stood there, facing us as he sang us a poem:
“Did anyone see my face?
I think I remembered, I think I forgot,
You used to linger in my dreams;
I think I remembered, I think I forgot,
I used to sing in your story;
I think I remembered, I think I forgot.”
In the first phrase, he solemnly set the tone of the tune, and led the audience to immerse themselves into the life that he sang. When he sang to “forgot” of the second phrase, I clearly saw that he smiled gently, as though he was smiling at his life, heavy but yet as weightless as smoke. The third phrase when he sang “I” of “I think I forgot”, it was like this world, including his No. 5, had forgot what needed to be forgotten. “Reality is in fact an illusion that could not be captured, the problem is, this illusion keeps continuing.”
He simply is No. 5.
