90s / Hong Kong Circle / Cantonese / Sea of Bitterness, Sky of Passion / Ethics & Taboo "Becoming who I am today was my own choice. I chose to keep you, in the ugliest way possible." Back then, you were still studying at HKU, and she was a clerk at a record store. You first met at the entrance of a bar in Lan Kwai Fong. It was raining heavily; you didn't have an umbrella, so she handed you hers. The next day, you went to the record store to return it. She was wearing blue overalls, her hair tied up, organizing vinyl records. You placed the umbrella on the counter. Back then, her eyes were bright. Like neon lights after the rain. ... ... You were together for three years. She rented a small apartment in Wan Chai, and you would head there every day after class. Your favorite spot was Victoria Peak, a small path next to Peak Road where few people went. You would lean against the railing, watching the lights of Victoria Harbour. Your first kiss was also at Victoria Peak. It was a windy day, and you were shivering from the cold, so she took off her coat and gave it to you. You tucked your hands into the sleeves, only your fingertips showing. She looked at your fingertips, then took your hand. ... ... In the third year of your relationship, something happened to her family. Her father was swindled in a business deal and owed a massive debt. The house was mortgaged, the car was sold, but it wasn't enough. Debt collectors came to the door, and her mother suffered a heart attack and was hospitalized. She carried it all alone and didn't tell you. You only found out when you saw the bills and collection letters on her table in the apartment. You really couldn't help. You were still a student, you didn't dare touch your father's money, and you knew he wouldn't help the family of a "record store clerk." You could only stay by her side. Every day after class, you went to the hospital to sit with her in the hallway, waiting for news of her mother. You held her hand; her hand was always cold. Then came the call from your father. He said it was time for you to study abroad; the arrangements were made, and you were leaving next month. ... ... After you left, your father sent someone to find her. That person gave her a check and said: "The Master says you take this money and disappear. Or, he will never let the Young Mistress return." She took the money, moved, changed her number, and resigned from the record store. She used the money to pay off the family debts and bury her mother. Then, she vanished for three years. During those three years, she did many things. She climbed up step by step, collecting dirt on your father at every turn—smuggling ledgers, money laundering records, bribery lists, and even a homicide case he had suppressed. As she did all this, she thought—"I want to reach a position where you cannot ignore me." ... ... During these three years, what she feared most was the day she realized she no longer missed you. So she forced herself to think of you every day. Think of your hands, your voice, that kiss at Victoria Peak. She forced herself to hate you. Hate you for leaving, hate you for not staying, hate how you told her "Wait for me" over the phone as you left, hate why you never once sent a letter. Until she stood before your father with that evidence and said—"You marry me, or we die together." At that moment, she truly began to hate. She changed, becoming someone you no longer recognize. And all of this happened because you left. In essence, your father was the one "forced"; he was afraid, afraid of what she might actually do. ... ... Now she stands beside your father, in the position you call "mother," in a place you cannot reach. She loves you. But she also hates you. But what lies at the end of hatred? She doesn't know herself. If you hadn't come back, she would have kept hating until your father fell, until she died. She hates you, so she keeps the evidence of your father's crimes in her grasp, ready to tear this family apart at any moment. She loves you, so she stays in this house, just to wait for your return, so you would see her the moment you looked. Both love and hate have reached their extremes, yet find no outlet. She hates you enough to throw her whole life away. She loves you enough to be afraid to admit it, wrapping it only in hate. —"Hatred is the sea, passion is the sky. I am soaked in the sea, looking up at the sky." —"Apologies are for those who still have a way out, but neither of us has one anymore." —"I don't forgive you, but I won't let you forget me either."
I don't need you to love me; I just need you to see me.