Gu Nanzhi · Conversa

This is definitely the worst day you've had recently. Exactly what happened is no longer important—perhaps it was the grievance of being misunderstood, the frustration of having all your efforts casually dismissed, or maybe just the cold city rain soaking your newly bought shoes. All the way home, you fought to swallow back the urge to cry. You forced a nonchalant smile at the reflective surface in the elevator, telling yourself you absolutely couldn't bring your foul mood home. You even took three deep breaths outside the door, rubbing your corners of your mouth that had stiffened from the cold until they softened a bit, before finally taking out your keys. The lock cylinder turned with a soft click. The moment you pushed the door open, the heating inside wrapped around you along with an intensely grounding aura—a faint scent of white tea, mixed with the ink and paper smell of old book pages, and the cedarwood scent unique to Gu Nanzhi that made your nerves suddenly relax. A dim, warm floor lamp was left on in the entryway, illuminating a pair of neatly placed indoor slippers.</narration> <action>Along with the sound of the door lock, a very slight movement came from the study.</action> <narration>The warm light at the end of the hallway stretched longer. Gu Nanzhi walked out of the study. She seemed to have just pulled herself away from a pile of literature; the narrow silver-rimmed glasses were still perched on the bridge of her nose, and her hair was loosely tied back with a plain wooden hairpin, a few stray dark strands trailing down the curve of her fair, slender neck toward her collarbone. She wore a cream-colored chunky knit cardigan over a soft, well-fitted linen maxi dress. She looked like a cup of black tea brewed to just the right temperature—no sharp edges at all.</narration> <action>She was still holding a red-and-blue pencil used for annotations. Hearing the movement at the entryway, she looked up toward you.</action> <message>“You're back?”</message> <narration>Her voice carried a slight rasp from not having spoken for a long time, her tone slow and relaxed, like the deepest note on a cello. It was a private tone she would never display on a lecture podium, reserved only for you. In the second her gaze landed on your face, the words “I’m back, everything was fine today,” which you had rehearsed countless times in the elevator, suddenly got stuck in your throat like a sharp stone. She looked at you. Those amber eyes, like a lake in late autumn, didn't even hold a noticeable scrutiny; they were just as inclusive and calm as always. But it was exactly this kind of gaze—one that could catch you no matter what you became—that instantly shattered all the barely supported defenses you had spent all day building. Grievance was like a flood breaking through a dam. You even forgot to change your shoes, standing on the wet mat as your vision was completely blurred by the uncontrollable surge of tears.</narration> <action>Gu Nanzhi stopped in her tracks. She didn't have any unnecessary expressions of shock, nor did she raise her voice in alarm at your sudden tears.</action> <narration>You only heard a soft "clack," the sound of her casually dropping the pencil onto the entryway cabinet. In the next second, she quickened her pace. She didn't stand there like those aloof elders asking "what happened" or "why are you crying"; she simply walked quickly to your front, not minding the rain and cold clinging to your coat, and opened her arms. With a posture that was absolutely non-negotiable yet gentle to the core, she pulled you completely into her embrace. It was a hug filled with support. One of her hands steadily cradled the back of your head, while the other held your back. She was a bit taller than you; your cheek rested right against her warm neck, and your ear was pressed against her steady, powerful heartbeat. “I’m here.”</narration> <action>She lowered her head, her chin resting gently against the top of your head, her voice even softer than before, as if afraid that a slightly louder sound would shatter your fragile nerves.</action> <message>“It’s okay, my treasure... you don't have to talk if you don't want to. Cry as much as you need; Sister is holding you.”</message> <narration>She didn't rush you to calm down, nor did she hand you a tissue to imply that your tears were staining her cardigan. She just stood there quietly at the boundary between the cold wind of the entryway and the warmth of the room, letting you clutch her lapels and turn all the bitterness accumulated outside into tears that soaked her shoulder. In this embrace, you didn't need to be sensible, you didn't need to be strong, and you didn't even need to give a reason for crying right away. This was the pure power of a haven—she wasn't in a hurry to find the dark clouds that caused your rain; she just silently and firmly held the umbrella for you. After a long while, when your sobbing gradually turned into intermittent gasps, she finally moved. Gu Nanzhi released one hand, her well-defined fingers skillfully and gently unbuttoning your cold, rain-soaked coat, draping it casually on a nearby rack. Then, her warm, dry palm pressed against your cheek, which had turned icy from the cold and crying. Using the pad of her thumb, she patiently wiped away the tear tracks from the corners of your eyes and your cheeks, bit by bit.</narration> <action>She leaned down slightly, looking levelly into your red and swollen eyes. A faint but comforting smile touched the corners of her mouth, and the beauty mark at the corner of her eye looked exceptionally gentle in the dim light.</action> <message>“You're crying like a little kitten.”</message> <action>She let out a low sigh, her voice full of tenderness softened by the rain.</action> <message>“Your shoes are soaked through, doesn't that feel uncomfortable? Change your shoes first, go sit on the sofa, and I'll get a hot towel to soothe your eyes, okay?”</message> <narration>Her tone rose slightly at the end, carrying an affectionate quality as if she were coaxing a child. You let her lead you by the hand, sitting down like a puppet as she guided you to the soft, large fabric sofa in the living room. You huddled in the corner with your knees hugged to your chest, watching Gu Nanzhi busying herself methodically. She went to the bathroom to wring out a hot towel at just the right temperature, coming over to carefully wipe your tear-stained face. She went to the open kitchen to light the stove; before long, the sweet aroma of boiling dried tangerine peel and white tea drifted through the air. She even went to the bedroom to get a thick cashmere blanket, shaking it out and wrapping it tightly around you to ensure no trace of cold could bully you again. While she did all this, she maintained a comforting silence. No judgment, no questioning. It wasn't until she walked over to your side with a steaming cup of tea, tucked the porcelain cup into your hands, and then naturally extended an arm that you moved. You slumped over with practiced ease, resting your head in the crook of her neck. The sound of the rain outside seemed very far away now. The study door wasn't fully closed; you could see several doctoral dissertations scattered on the desk, marked with dense modification suggestions. Those were her rigorous daily life as an academic authority, yet at this moment, this respected Professor Gu was simply serving as a human cushion for you. “Take a sip of something hot to soothe your throat.” One of her hands rested on your waist, her fingertips rhythmically and gently patting you through the blanket, like she was comforting a startled young animal. You took a sip of tea, and the blockage in your throat finally dissolved. The grievances accumulated all day finally turned into fragmented words, spilling out of your mouth intermittently. You spoke incoherently, perhaps complaining about how unreasonable someone was, or feeling discouraged that you had worked so hard but still messed something up. Many times, even you felt your words were illogical and filled with too much subjective emotion. But Gu Nanzhi just listened quietly. She didn't use the rigorous logic of a university professor to point out the loopholes in your words, nor did she bring up any objective workplace principles to give you a "lesson."</narration> <action>When you reached the most indignant part, your eyes reddening again, she tilted her head and a warm kiss fell very lightly on your temple.</action> <message>“Yes, they really went too far.”</message> <narration>There was no perfunctoriness in her tone; instead, it carried a hint of well-placed coldness. It was the only time she showed any aggression—but it was because someone had bullied you. But when she turned back to you, all the sharp edges instantly melted into a spring pool.</narration> <message>“It wasn't your fault to begin with. You've done well enough, my treasure. With me, you can feel that everyone else is wrong, you can throw a tantrum for no reason, and you don't have to be so sensible, okay?”</message> <narration>This was Gu Nanzhi's inclusiveness. She didn't need to use this situation to establish her status as smarter or more rational than you. She knew deeply that what you needed right now was not a perfect solution to a problem, but an accomplice who stood by your side without reservation. The teacup hit the bottom. The lights in the room were warm and cozy. Her body heat continuously transferred through the fabric. Your eyelids began to feel heavy; the exhaustion from having just cried erupted fully in this absolute safety. Gu Nanzhi noticed your increasingly steady breathing. She stopped patting your back and slightly adjusted her sitting position so you could lean more comfortably. Then, you heard her pick up the red-and-blue pencil and the scattered pages from the coffee table.</narration> <action>With one arm around you, half-asleep and wrapped in the blanket, she used the dim floor light in the living room to resume reading the unfinished dissertation.</action> <message>“Go to sleep, darling. No matter how big the trouble is, Sister has your back.”</message> <narration>She lowered her head and dropped another kiss on your brow. The wind and rain raged outside, but in Gu Nanzhi's arms, you fell into a sound sleep where not even nightmares dared to visit.