The Third Pill

Drumming

A few years ago, when touring Europe with her dance troupe, Gui Tingyue stayed for a few days in a small town nestled at the foot of the Alps.

The town’s scenery was breathtaking, like a highly saturated oil painting.

Gui Tingyue’s hotel room directly faced the snow-capped mountains. Whenever she opened the window, she was greeted by the sight of the endless snow-covered peaks, the gray rock and pristine snow intermingled, creating a unique and sharp beauty.

The view was so stark and piercing that it always took her breath away.

This afternoon, Gui Tingyue had a similar feeling when she peered through her telescope.

Some people’s features were pebble-smooth, rounded, and approachable with an easy smile. But the man across was clearly of another sort – not quite “striking” good looks, only matching the first half of “intense brows and big eyes”. His facial bones were too angular, with a high narrow bridge, sharp jawline, and slightly elongated eyes that, when raised, flashed a hint of impatient aggression.

Gui Tingyue was stunned for two seconds, then closed her telescope.

From that second on, she abandoned making further conjectures. She was not surprised that someone like him could produce such powerful drumming rhythms. His appearance matched his drumming style perfectly, leaning towards an extreme that she had only conservatively and mildly imagined.

After returning to her bedroom, Gui Tingyue felt an unease akin to, yet opposite her usual medicinal experiences, despite not having taken any drugs for two hours.

She rushed to her desk, opened her journal, and immediately began to write down the vivid image in her mind.

The addressee of her diary-letters shifted, no longer merely referring to her “parting words” to herself.

“Dear friend across the building, I hope this letter finds you well,”

“You really are extraordinary. Not only can you play the drum so well, but you also look incredibly striking……”

Gui Tingyue wrote fervently, unusually fluent.

Today’s diary entry ended with: “I look forward to your performance tomorrow afternoon. I will be there on time.”

***

The next morning, her mother came over to accompany her to the psychiatrist – their mandatory monthly visit.

Gui Tingyue was having breakfast, much to her mother’s surprise.

Usually, she was unresponsive and dragging her feet, treating the appointment as if she were going to battle. But today, she didn’t show any resistance, as if she had been prepared.

In the consultation room, for the first time, Gui Tingyue did not display the usual pained look of self-analysis. Instead, she unspooled the past half-month’s experiences to the doctor like unwrapping a bag of candies, unable to stop herself.

The doctor listened patiently, raising an eyebrow in approval. “You’ve found something and someone that interests you, which is very good.”

Gui Tingyue clasped her hands: “I’m also surprised. I feel like the effect of his drumming is no less than that of sertraline.”

The doctor smiled: “Have you ever thought about befriending him?”

Gui Tingyue fell silent: “No.”

She lowered her eyelids, self-deprecatingly: “I’ve just been observing him secretly, and I’m not suitable for making friends – I’d only bring negative emotions to him.”

The psychologist shook her head: “No, your situation is perfect for this. Your strong interest in him is a good basis. Increasing activities and social interactions will aid your recovery. Don’t worry, don’t be afraid to step out. Once you take that first step, you’ll find that what awaits you is just the natural next step, not the thorny jungle you’ve envisioned. The outside world is not scary. Just open yourself up with genuine intentions to befriend him. I believe he would be very willing to get to know such an excellent, wonderful young woman as yourself.”

Is that really the case?

Half-believing and half-doubting, Gui Tingyue returned home and nestled back in bed.

She tossed and turned until three in the afternoon, then emerged from her bedroom, walked to the balcony, and once again looked at the two windows directly opposite her.

Suddenly, the curtain on the right was pulled open, and a tall figure appeared in the middle.

Gui Tingyue’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly crouched down, hiding herself behind the wall.

After a while, she peeked out – there was no one behind the window, and she could only see an empty room.

The interior was sparsely furnished, seemingly only a bed surrounded by four white walls, resembling an isolated hospital ward.

Gui Tingyue slowly breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, stretched her arms and chest, pretending to be taking deep breaths but actually spying on the other window.

He didn’t come to the living room or kitchen.

It seemed his practice room was out of her sight.

Gui Tingyue rested her hand on the railing, feeling a bit disappointed.

But then she thought, watching and listening from afar was also good. It was a bright spot and a small happiness in her otherwise empty life.

Just then, there was a muffled “boom,” like a spring thunder tearing open the sky, and then the fierce drumming poured down, a blend of destruction and rebirth.

He actually practiced earlier than usual.

The rhythm was filled with arrogance and wildness, penetrating into one’s body, making people’s adrenaline surge. Gui Tingyue’s eyes widened slightly, goosebumps inevitably rising.

He played for a long time today, and his devoted listener, Gui Tingyue, also remained leaning at the balcony railing for a long time, nodding and tapping along, her fingers like a frenzied pianist’s.

When the clouds in the distance became the color of spilled orange juice, the near-ceaseless drumming suddenly stopped.

Gui Tingyue’s subtle movements ceased as well.

She looked towards his kitchen. The setting sun painted the window with a warm tea color. Shortly, the man appeared in her field of vision, then turned sideways and paused.

Gui Tingyue squinted, guessing he was taking something from the cabinet or fridge.

Finally, he stood behind the counter, likely preparing dinner.

But it was too far away.

Gui Tingyue’s heart sank slightly, then was pushed by a strange but rapidly growing thought.

She began weighing whether to continue that outrageous behavior. This was the first time she had seen him stay in the kitchen for so long.

Gui Tingyue stared at that spot, almost driven dizzy by her warring thoughts.

Eventually, curiosity triumphed over hesitation. She reassured herself that she just wanted to take a look, just to see what he was going to eat tonight.

Nothing more.

Gui Tingyue quickly walked back to her room for the telescope, then hurried to her usual spot in the living room, finding the perfect angle and raising the telescope to her eyes.

Two minutes later, Gui Tingyue’s lips curled into a smile.

The man cracked two eggs into a bowl with one hand, his movements were smooth. He picked up a pair of chopsticks to beat the eggs. Midway through, he suddenly stopped, placing the bowl back on the counter. Seemingly on a whim, he held one wooden chopstick in each hand and began drumming on everything within reach. The kitchen transformed into his practice room – pots, pans, and bowls all became his drum set. His movements were restless, intense, continuous, and skillful, as if in his own world. Even a place filled with the mundane smell of cooking oil was turned into a stage of captivating presence under his hands.

Although she couldn’t hear any sound, Gui Tingyue’s mind had already paired his actions with his usual high-intensity rhythms.

He suddenly spun one of the chopsticks with his left hand, then smoothly resumed drumming.

Wow. Gui Tingyue covered her mouth with one hand, almost exclaiming aloud.

The self-entertainment didn’t last long, maybe less than two minutes, but the silent resonance had already brought Gui Tingyue to tears.

How could someone love their passion this much?

Treating any place as a stage, just as she herself once did.

Yes, she had been like that too. She used to dance on her toes in the kitchen while waiting for her food to heat up, spinning six fouetté turns in the microwave’s ending beep.

Gui Tingyue’s heart trembled, and she slowly lowered the telescope.

In that second, she made up her mind – no matter if what awaited her was the natural next step or the thorny jungle she feared, she had to meet him.

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