If Mai Ding felt ashamed, then he had lost. If anyone who loved someone of the same sex felt ashamed of that love, then there was no need for anyone else to say anything. Even the slightest shame meant admitting everything they said was right, meant that deep down you were no different from them, because you looked down on your own feelings too.
Seeing that his threat had failed, Gao Guo continued, “I thought people would at least have some sense of shame. I didn’t realize you weren’t even human enough to feel it.”
“I don’t feel ashamed because I haven’t done anything worth being ashamed of. I’m not like you!”
Gao Guo gave a cold laugh. “You’re hopeless. You’re no different from those pedophiles. You think your feelings are so noble when you’re really just a pervert.” Mai Ding’s fingers and body began trembling at the same time. Gao Guo had placed his love in the same category as pedophilia. Mai Ding could endure the manager’s insults, but he could not accept an insult like that. Furious, he lunged forward and seized Gao Guo by the collar with both hands, eyes bloodshot and voice hoarse. “Take that back.”
“And if I don’t? I think all of you should be locked up.”
“You fucking…” Mai Ding, who almost never swore, let the curse out anyway. He could direct his anger at Gao Guo standing in front of him, but what about his helplessness? Could he unleash that on all of society? And who would care about his helplessness anyway?
The coworkers preparing to leave work all turned around and hurried over to pull them apart. “What happened to you two?” Gao Guo calmly straightened his collar. “Who knows what kind of fit came over him? He suddenly threw himself at me. Maybe his own dirty business was exposed and he panicked.” The coworkers stared at Mai Ding, trying to read the truth from his face, trying to confirm whether he really had been having an affair with the manager’s wife.
Mai Ding lowered his hands. Everyone’s gaze examined him. They wanted the truth, and Mai Ding was not afraid to say it aloud. “I like men. My lover is a man. The only thing I’ve ever done in love is love him.”
Once, Mai Ding had bought a book by a very famous author. He closed it halfway through because he came across a line that went roughly like this: [Homosexuality and terminal illness are basically the same. Neither can be cured.] He hated that sentence. No matter what subject an author wrote about, something of their personality and beliefs always leaked into the words. This was what that author had revealed to Mai Ding, and Mai Ding thought he would probably never be able to finish the book.
Mai Ding did not know why he suddenly remembered that now. Why did people always treat themselves like God, believing that what they thought was the truth, what they thought was right, then looking on with stern, judgmental eyes while criticizing and insulting things that harmed neither themselves nor anyone else? Why should people who were different be pushed aside? They were only different. They only loved differently. Did love count as love only when it looked like the majority’s? Did a life count as a life only if it meant forming a family, marrying, and having children?
His coworkers looked at him with astonished, complicated expressions. The people holding him let go, and Mai Ding slid down to the floor like a child stranded in the world of adults. “My love isn’t filthy. Not even a little. From what angle are you looking at it that makes it seem so filthy to you?” His words always felt pale and powerless in the world of adults.
“Mai Ding?”
“Is his head not clear?”
“Did something happen to him?”
Everyone began guessing and whispering. Mai Ding shifted and gave a weak smile. “My head is clear. Nothing happened to me.”
Hearing the commotion, the manager came out as well. “What are you all arguing about?”
Gao Guo panicked. If the manager learned that Mai Ding liked men, the lie he and the manager’s wife had invented would collapse. So Gao Guo turned the situation to his advantage. “He refuses to admit what he did, so now he’s making up some story about liking men to excuse himself.”
The manager sneered. “You really can invent anything. Telling a lie like that will only make people look down on you more. Pack your things and get the hell out.”
Everyone listened in confusion, only half understanding what was going on. The manager’s wife, fresh from a beauty treatment, arrived at the company around quitting time as usual. When she saw Mai Ding, she hurried to the manager’s side and whined, “Why is he still here? I don’t want to see him. He only makes me remember unpleasant things.”
“I’m throwing him out right now. I absolutely won’t let him harass you again, my sweet baby.” The manager patted her hand soothingly.
Sister Hua, standing beside Mai Ding, looked from him to the manager’s wife in confusion. “What does any of this have to do with Mai Ding? I’ve never once seen him talk to your precious wife. I have seen her chatting with Gao Guo in the dim stairwell, though. They looked like they were having such a lively conversation that I didn’t want to interrupt.” The manager’s wife’s eyes widened. She hurriedly defended herself. “W-we were only talking about work.” The admission was full of holes. She never involved herself in company business, so what could she possibly have been discussing with Gao Guo? The office fell silent. Some people were enjoying the spectacle, some looked awkward, and some were furious.
Clear footsteps sounded in the corridor outside. He appeared together with the last warmth fading from the sunset. What dazzled the eye was not the sunset but his appearance; what seemed shy was not his appearance but the sunset itself, slowly withdrawing its light behind him and outlining his most captivating silhouette. Everyone turned. An earbud sat in his left ear. His gaze settled on only one place, his brows faintly drawn together as he passed everyone and walked over. Mai Ding, still looking down, saw a pair of canvas shoes stop in front of him. When he raised his head, An Zi Yan bent down and pulled Mai Ding up from the floor by the hand.
The tension in Mai Ding’s body dissolved beneath An Zi Yan’s presence. His fingers tightened around An Zi Yan’s. “You came.”
“Got bullied again?”
“No,” Mai Ding insisted stubbornly.
“Then what were you doing on the floor?”
Mai Ding did not answer. An Zi Yan did not ask again. He stepped in front of Mai Ding, his frightening gaze pausing briefly on each face around them. “Who bullied my man? Step out and let me see.” There was no emotion in his voice.
Standing in the office were a group of adults, one child, and one devil.