Like an Animal

Gu Deng was momentarily speechless, but he had to admit Zhang Li’s logic was flawless.

“Do you want to try?” Zhang Li asked again.

Gu Deng still felt a bit grossed out, but he was also kind of intrigued. Hesitantly, he said, “You’ve cleaned this whale already, right?”

“There’s still a small one,” Zhang Li said, diving underwater and bringing up a small humpback whale.

Though it was called a calf, it was as long as a rubber dinghy and much more lively than an adult whale. As soon as it surfaced, it started spraying water everywhere, soaking Gu Deng’s clothes. But honestly, who could dislike such playful behavior?

Gu Deng wiped his face and bent down to scrape barnacles off the whale. It was indeed disgusting, but oddly satisfying and stress-relieving.

After finishing with the head, there was still the chin, but the little whale kept its head up. Gu Deng didn’t know what to do, so he called out, “Zhang Li.”

Zhang Li understood, reached out, and patted the whale’s head. The whale obediently flipped over, showing its belly to Gu Deng.

Gu Deng looked up in disbelief, “How does it listen to you like that? Do you know them?”

“Kind of,” Zhang Li replied. “Four years ago, I fell off my boat here, and this humpback whale used its fin to help me back on board. Since then, I’ve met it here every year.”

Gu Deng’s eyes widened, finding it hard to believe that a whale could have such a strong memory. He couldn’t help but feel envious of the magical bond between a human and a whale.

After hearing this story, Gu Deng became more earnest in scraping the barnacles. After a while, his hands got tired, so he called Zhang Li to help. Together, they finally cleaned the entire whale.

As Gu Deng scraped off the last barnacle, it was as if the whale knew. It flicked its tail and swam away. Before Gu Deng could feel disappointed, the little whale swam back, circling the boat and making soft, cooing sounds.

Hearing whale songs up close was even more breathtaking. Gu Deng quickly recorded a bit of the sound, but even after he put away the recording equipment, the little whale kept calling.

Gu Deng felt a bit uneasy and looked up to ask Zhang Li, “Why is it still making noise?”

Zhang Li looked relaxed but didn’t answer his question.

Before Gu Deng could figure it out, the humpback whale kept poking its head out of the water, nudging around like a cat.

Gu Deng asked again, “Why does it keep nudging the water?”

Zhang Li still didn’t answer.

Gu Deng was getting frustrated, but then he saw the little whale waving its fins in the water, looking anxious.

Gu Deng was genuinely worried. He grabbed Zhang Li’s arm, “Take a look, why is it moving around so much? Did I hurt it while scraping the barnacles?”

This time, Zhang Li actually laughed.

Gu Deng was surprised. This guy usually seemed so stern, but his smile was unexpectedly bright and infectious.

“Zhang Li!” Unfortunately, Gu Deng didn’t have time to admire his good looks, and his tone became even more stern.

“Can’t you tell?” Zhang Li chuckled, “It’s inviting you.”

Gu Deng was confused, “Huh?”

What did that mean? The whale had been fussing around all this time just to get petted? Gu Deng tentatively reached out his right hand, but before touching the whale, he looked up to ask Zhang Li, “Can I really touch it?”

Zhang Li replied, “If you wait one more second, it’ll get depressed.”

Gu Deng gritted his teeth and put his hand down.

The sensation was amazing. The whale’s skin felt wet and slippery, yet a bit rough and harder than he imagined. Gu Deng was instantly hooked on the feeling. After petting its head, he moved to its chin. One hand wasn’t enough, so he used both. The whale’s calls grew louder, and it snorted water from its nose, clearly excited.

It wasn’t until the whale left that Gu Deng reluctantly straightened up. He looked down at his hands, then turned them to show Zhang Li, unable to hide his excitement, “I touched a whale, it’s amazing!”

Zhang Li was about to speak when his expression suddenly changed. The next moment, the sea surface began to churn.

Before Gu Deng could react, Zhang Li quickly swam over, holding onto the rubber dinghy and instructing, “Hold on tight.”

Gu Deng had no time to respond. As soon as Zhang Li finished speaking, the sea bubbled like boiling water. Gu Deng felt a huge force from below, followed by a dizzying spin—splash! He was flipped into the sea.

After the initial chaos, it was actually very quiet underwater. Plus, Gu Deng knew how to swim, so he held his breath and sank into a deep blue silence.

But unlike a typical seabed, there was ice here. Ice floes drifted like small islands on the sea surface, and somewhere, there was the sound of cracking ice, followed by the whale’s song. It was truly beautiful, and Gu Deng fell in love with the place instantly.

It was just too cold, and his clothes made it hard to move. Just as Gu Deng was about to surface, Zhang Li swam over from a distance, supporting him upward.

The two of them burst out of the water with a splash, and Gu Deng met Zhang Li’s anxious expression.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I can swim.”

Zhang Li’s expression relaxed a bit as he helped Gu Deng back onto the rubber dinghy.

Gu Deng took off his wet jacket and asked Zhang Li, “What happened?”

Zhang Li looked a bit embarrassed and after a moment said, “It wanted to play with us but didn’t know its own strength.”

Gu Deng was stunned, finding it amusing. What kind of fish was this?

But he wasn’t angry. He reached out to pat the little humpback whale’s head again. The little whale started spraying water again, looking like it wanted to do it all over. Zhang Li coldly shooed it away. The mother and calf returned to their pod, spraying two columns of water into the air, creating faint rainbows.

On the boat, Gu Deng was busy taking off layers of clothing—hard shell, down, fleece—until only a tight compression suit was left.

Zhang Li handed him a waterproof bag from the dinghy, suggesting he change into the clothes inside.

The sports gear was quick-drying, and with today’s bright sun, it wasn’t too cold. Gu Deng declined Zhang Li’s offer. But no matter how he refused, Zhang Li wouldn’t relent.

Whether to wear the clothes or not was a small matter, and Gu Deng didn’t mind too much. He just said, “I’m not trying to be polite, I’m just worried you’ll catch a cold.”

“No worries,” Zhang Li said, “My wetsuit is semi-dry and very warm.”

So Gu Deng didn’t argue further and opened the waterproof bag.

Zhang Li’s gear was comprehensive, from outerwear to fleece to base layers, even socks and underwear. Gu Deng hesitated for a moment but ultimately decided not to wear Zhang Li’s underwear.

Zhang Li had turned away as soon as Gu Deng opened the bag. Gu Deng put on Zhang Li’s clothes, which were two sizes too big. He wasn’t short, just half a head shorter than Zhang Li. But Zhang Li had a bigger frame and more muscle. Even with his back turned, his broad shoulders and narrow waist were evident, and the heavy wet clothes couldn’t hide his bulging muscles.

Gu Deng felt a bit envious. He used to have abs that were the stuff of legend, but after getting sick, his physical condition deteriorated, leaving only a thin layer of muscle.

But dwelling on it was pointless, just self-pity. Gu Deng stuffed his wet clothes into the bag and said, “I’m done changing.”

Zhang Li turned around, his chest muscles also impressive, making Gu Deng even more envious.

Maybe his gaze was too straightforward, as Zhang Li’s expression turned a bit odd.

Gu Deng cleared his throat and said, “You’ve got a great physique. How do you train?”

He was just trying to change the subject, but Zhang Li actually rattled off a whole training plan. The amount of training and food intake far exceeded that of ordinary people.

Seeing Gu Deng’s shocked expression, Zhang Li explained that it wasn’t that he was obsessed with fitness; it was just that he was nearing his departure, and his physical condition and weight were at their peak.

Before each outdoor shoot, Zhang Li would try to gain as much muscle and weight as possible and undergo endurance training.

Most of his shoots were in remote areas, lasting from a couple of weeks to several months. Although there were a few supply points, he had to carry his camping gear and photography equipment himself. With luggage weighing 20 to 30 kilograms, you needed some serious strength to handle it.

The heavier you are, the more you can carry. Zhang Li was 189cm tall, and at his best, he could weigh up to 85kg. That might sound heavy, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, just solid muscle. He’d try to gain weight before heading into the mountains and often lose over 10kg by the time he came out.

“Like an animal,” Gu Deng said.

Zhang Li didn’t say anything, but from his expression, he didn’t seem to mind the description.

After everything that happened today, Gu Deng felt a bit exhilarated on the way back.

He had always felt like there was a barrier between him and the world, like he was viewing everything through a glass dome. No matter what he saw, it was always foggy, and even when he experienced things firsthand, they didn’t feel real. But when he touched the whale, the world suddenly became clear. Gu Deng had an inexplicable urge to say something; he hadn’t felt such a strong desire to express himself in a long time.

He glanced at Zhang Li, hesitating about whether to speak. Sharing life insights with someone he just met felt awkward.

“What’s up?” Zhang Li asked.

Gu Deng was still hesitating. Logically, someone like Gu Deng, a public figure, wouldn’t share his feelings with someone he’d only known for a few days, but Zhang Li had this ability.

Maybe it was because he spent so much time outdoors, but Zhang Li had a rare sense of authenticity. This authenticity wasn’t about having a strong personality or being emotionally expressive, like some people who laugh loudly, make exaggerated expressions, or call you “darling” the first time they meet you.

On the contrary, Zhang Li seemed quite calm, but this calmness embraced everyone equally, making him seem very genuine. Realizing this, Gu Deng finally found the right word—sincere.

It was strange, but he found himself wanting to confide in this quiet, somewhat reserved stranger. Perhaps it was because he was a stranger that made it easier to open up.

Gu Deng told Zhang Li, “I’m someone who really seeks value in things, feeling that whatever I do must have meaning. If I can’t find the meaning in something, I can’t convince myself to keep doing it.”

He wrote songs because creating gave him value. He came to Alaska to see whales, hoping to find some healing. So when he saw the barnacle-covered humpback whale, he broke down, feeling deceived and that everything was meaningless.

“But…” Gu Deng looked up at the sunset, feeling an inexplicable lump in his throat, “But strangely, I find myself feeling happy about things that seem meaningless.”

He curled up in Zhang Li’s oversized jacket, his skin almost translucent. He was clearly smiling, yet there was a vulnerability he himself hadn’t noticed.

Zhang Li said, “How about we play a game? I’ll ask, and you answer.”

Gu Deng replied, “But I might not answer.”

“That’s fine.”

Gu Deng was in a good mood and agreed to the somewhat abrupt proposal.

They paddled over to the glacier, and Gu Deng stopped beneath the massive ice. He heard Zhang Li ask, “What do you think a glacier is?”

Why was he asking a geography question? If anyone else asked this, Gu Deng wouldn’t have answered and might have even cursed them in his mind. But since it was Zhang Li asking…

Gu Deng didn’t think Zhang Li was the type to ask boring questions, so he tried to recall his knowledge and said, “A glacier should be a body of ice that doesn’t melt, mainly found in high latitudes and altitudes. They cover large areas, but due to global warming, they’re melting more and more.”

Zhang Li said, “Get closer and take a look.”

Gu Deng approached the glacier.

Zhang Li asked, “What do you see?”

“Ice?” Gu Deng said, feeling the answer was too simple, he added, “White, but some parts are blue.”

Zhang Li: “Touch it, how does it feel?”

“Ice…? Cold,” Gu Deng said, a bit unsure, as the question seemed too simple.

Zhang Li: “What can you hear?”

Gu Deng listened for a while and said, “It sounds like cracking.”

Zhang Li: “Are they stationary?”

“Probably,” Gu Deng hesitated, then added, “but they seem to be moving very slowly.”

“Okay, my questions are over,” Zhang Li said. “Now it’s your turn.”

That was it? Gu Deng was baffled. Initially, he thought Zhang Li would ask him personal questions, like why he retired, why he came to Alaska alone, why he was afraid to listen to his own songs, or at least why he couldn’t look at the whales.

But it turned out to be a long discussion about glaciers?

“Do these questions have any significance?” Gu Deng started searching for that elusive meaning again.

“Not really, I just wanted you to take a closer look at the glacier.”

“…?”

Gu Deng was even more confused. It’s not like he hadn’t seen one before. But Zhang Li didn’t seem to be teasing him. Gu Deng couldn’t figure out the answer and didn’t want to dwell on it, as it would make him seem indecisive.

“Alright, my turn to ask,” Gu Deng looked up at Zhang Li, “Why did you bring me to see the whales?”

After he asked, there was a brief silence. After a while, Zhang Li replied, “Because you gave me that song.”

It was the same reason again. At this point, Gu Deng wasn’t as resistant to discussing the song, just a bit embarrassed. “It’s just a half-finished piece…”

“But I really like it,” Zhang Li looked at Gu Deng with his characteristic straightforward and sincere expression, “I think it’s a great song, even if it’s only half-finished.”