Whale Watching at Sea

Gu Deng made a ridiculous request, expecting Zhang Li to back down, but even after a long time, Zhang Li didn’t say a word. Gu Deng softened, about to say “forget it,” when Zhang Li suddenly said, “Okay.”

“Okay what?” Gu Deng was a bit taken aback. Or rather, he understood, but it was so bizarre that he couldn’t believe it was true.

Zhang Li repeated, “Whale watching.”

“I don’t believe it, unless you take me to see.”

“Okay.”

But even now, Gu Deng didn’t believe Zhang Li’s words. He just had a mindset of “I want to see what you’re really up to,” intending to expose Zhang Li’s trick.

The city was quiet at night as they drove south towards the southeastern coast. The night light was dim, and there was still unmelted snow on the road, but Zhang Li drove steadily. Gu Deng couldn’t sleep, so he turned his face to look at the distant streetlights.

Gu Deng didn’t want to talk, and Zhang Li was also silent. Two people who had just met impulsively driving at night in Alaska felt quite strange.

But Gu Deng had already given up, and Zhang Li’s silence seemed to encompass all strange things, so neither of them felt this was too absurd, or rather, miraculous.

The car headed south, and just before dawn, Gu Deng finally slept for a while. When he opened his eyes again, the morning light was dim. The road was winding, the fjord shrouded in morning mist, and beneath the verdant mountains was a turquoise sea.

The Alaskan Peninsula is located in a high-latitude area, but thanks to the Alaskan Current, the southern region has a small amount of temperate oceanic climate, warm and humid all year round, presenting a scenery completely different from the north.

The car passed through winding, quiet river bays and slowly entered a small town, finally stopping beside a small port. Various small boats were moored at the port, the forest on the shore was lush green, and in the distance were snowy mountains. A red house was shrouded in morning mist, serene and distant, like a scene from a fairy tale.

Gu Deng rolled down the car window and took a deep breath.

Zhang Li got out of the car and walked towards the red house, talking with an old man inside. Gu Deng glanced at the location on the GPS; the town’s name was unfamiliar, almost never appearing in travel guides.

Before long, Zhang Li came back with a key and said, “Let’s go.”

Only now did Gu Deng finally realize that Zhang Li wasn’t just being stubborn—he was serious about taking him to see whales.

Gu Deng felt an inexplicable panic. He looked at the key in Zhang Li’s hand and pretended to be calm, “Do you also work as a tour guide?”

Zhang Li: “You’re my first client.”

Gu Deng: “Do you know where the whales are?”

Zhang Li: “Not sure, but we can take a look.”

Gu Deng fell silent.

The town was extremely quiet, and this silence created an even greater tranquility, as if the surrounding mountains and sea were rushing towards him, giving Gu Deng the illusion of being submerged by nature.

He snapped back to reality when he heard the cry of seagulls.

Gu Deng took out his phone and said, “How much does it cost? I’ll transfer the money to you first.”

Zhang Li: “No need.”

“No way, you have to take it,” Gu Deng insisted. “Who knows if you’re taking me to see whales or planning to sell my organs?”

“I won’t sell your organs,” Zhang Li said. “Selling you whole is more profitable.”

Gu Deng: “…”

He couldn’t be bothered to argue with Zhang Li and simply sat on a bench by the road. The sun was shining brightly, the fjord was serene and distant, and Gu Deng closed his eyes, with orange light dancing on his eyelids.

But Zhang Li didn’t let him off the hook and continued the previous topic, saying, “I’ve already received my reward.”

Gu Deng opened his eyes.

Zhang Li took out his phone, and a strange melody played from it, a piece Gu Deng had composed on the Dalton Highway.

Gu Deng often wrote things during his hypomanic episodes, when he was bursting with inspiration and confidence, spending whole days in the recording studio without eating or drinking, thinking he’d created something exceptional. But when he woke up the next day and looked at it, he’d angrily tear up the manuscript, treating these works as trash.

Initially, his agent would retrieve the manuscripts from the trash, but Gu Deng refused to let them see the light of day, even arguing with the agent several times. Eventually, the agent gave up.

But Gu Deng never expected that he’d actually given away a half-finished piece this time.

“Don’t play it!” As if seeing a monster, Gu Deng immediately covered his ears. “Don’t let me hear that thing!”

Zhang Li was a bit surprised but still turned off the audio.

The air was filled with awkwardness, and after a while, Gu Deng finally let go of his hands and said, “Sorry, I can’t listen to that.”

“Okay,” Zhang Li said. “I won’t play it.”

Gu Deng nodded and fell silent again.

The sound of seagulls grew louder, followed by the sound of wind and waves. A bald eagle glided from a branch towards the sea to hunt.

“Forget it, let’s go back,” Gu Deng stood up and said. “I was just saying it casually before, and I’m not really that interested in whale watching. Sorry for wasting your time, I’ll pay you for being my guide.”

Gu Deng pulled out some cash and handed it over, but Zhang Li blocked it, saying, “Can you reconsider?”

His gaze was deep and serious, making one feel exposed when being looked at by him.

Gu Deng shook off Zhang Li’s arm and said coldly, “I’m not going.”

Zhang Li added, “You can see the whales you want to see here.”

That familiar scene flashed in Gu Deng’s mind again. He had seen it so many times that he could perfectly recreate every frame—the pink-purple sky, the thick sea, golden splashes, and the freely swimming whales.

Once, just imagining these scenes made him happy. But now… even his favorite scenery couldn’t stir his emotions.

“Zhang Li, can you just let me go?” Gu Deng half-squatted, almost pleading. “I really don’t want to go.”

He didn’t dare to go. He was afraid that even after seeing the whales, he wouldn’t be satisfied, afraid that even after seeing the scenery he dreamed of, he still wouldn’t be happy.

Gu Deng looked so pitiful, as if caught and entangled by something invisible, unable to escape.

Zhang Li finally gave up, stepping back and saying, “Okay, then we won’t go.”

Seemingly not expecting the compromise to come so easily, Gu Deng looked up in shock, his eyes slightly red.

“Sorry,” Zhang Li said, organizing his words. “I didn’t mean to force you. I just brought you here hoping you’d be happy.”

Gu Deng sniffed, feeling a bit guilty. “I’m sorry.”

Zhang Li shook his head and said, “Let’s rest here for a bit, and we can talk about other things later.”

Gu Deng nodded, agreeing to the suggestion.

In his current state, he wasn’t fit to drive, and since Zhang Li had driven all night, he felt bad asking him to drive back immediately.

The red house was the dock manager’s residence and also rented out as a guesthouse.

Gu Deng and Zhang Li each got a room. Gu Deng’s room was on the second floor, with a window facing the sea, and he could hear the seagulls.

Gu Deng lay on the bed without changing his clothes. He only intended to rest, but the town was so quiet, and the sunlight slanted through the window, giving him a feeling of napping at his childhood home. Gu Deng watched the light and gradually closed his eyes.

When he woke up again, it was afternoon. As he went downstairs, the landlord told him lunch was in the kitchen, and Zhang Li had gone out to sea but could be contacted via satellite phone.

Gu Deng handled lunch himself and then felt sleepy again. But this time, he didn’t want to return to his room and instead sat on a bench at the dock, basking in the sun.

Suddenly, a bald eagle flew to the top of a sailboat’s mast, making a series of chirping sounds. Gu Deng found it amusing that the bird looked so majestic but had such a delicate call.

Gu Deng went upstairs to get his recording equipment, but when he came back down, the bald eagle had already flown away. Oh well, it was just a whim, and it didn’t matter if he couldn’t record it. As Gu Deng turned to leave, he heard the chirping again.

He used binoculars to search for a while and finally found the bird on a nearby small island. The distance wasn’t far, and the sea was calm, so Gu Deng asked the dock manager if there was a way to get there.

“Sure,” the manager pointed to the side, “paddleboard, rubber dinghy, or kayak can all get you there.”

Gu Deng rented a kayak, put on a life jacket, took a GPS locator, and paddled towards the small island.

To alleviate his condition, he had tried many types of exercise before, as the doctor said exercise could improve mood. Gu Deng admitted that the endorphins and dopamine released during exercise once made him healthy and strong, but ultimately, it only delayed his condition.

Gu Deng paddled next to the bald eagle to record, and soon he was attracted by other sounds. The island was rich in species, with many animals he didn’t recognize. When he finished recording, he realized he had left the land far behind.

In front of him was a winding fjord, the sea calm and thick in the sunlight. Gu Deng looked back at the direction of the land and decided to keep paddling forward.

Small islands were scattered across the sea, looking no different from Qiandao Lake at first glance. Gu Deng paddled towards the distant sea, leaving a series of small islands behind. When his arms started to ache, he finally reached a vast sea area.

The sky was blue, the sea was green, and in the distance, a white glacier plunged into the sea, with scattered ice floes.

Gu Deng continued paddling towards the glacier. The waves were bigger in the open sea, but near the ice floes, it calmed down again. The sun made the ice floes glisten, and as Gu Deng passed through the scattered ice, the glacier got closer. Two pure white ice walls extended in a V-shape to the land, massive, pure, and translucent. Gu Deng tried to take a picture with his phone but found it couldn’t capture the breathtaking feeling.

As he paddled further in, he saw a red inflatable boat moored under the glacier, empty.

An abandoned boat? Or did something happen to its owner? Gu Deng was about to check it out when a whale call suddenly came from the sea below.

Gu Deng stopped abruptly, feeling both scared and expectant, frozen in place. He stayed there for over a minute before continuing towards the unmanned boat.

The whale call grew louder, and a blurry dark gray shadow appeared beneath the sea, causing the surface to sway slightly. Gu Deng quickly paddled to the small boat, and suddenly bubbles rose from the sea. Zhang Li, wearing a wetsuit, emerged from the water, next to a whale lying on its back.

The whales Gu Deng had seen before were always swimming around or breaching, constantly moving and never letting humans get too close. But this whale was different. It quietly floated on its back, like a person floating, fully exposing its chin and belly.

The scene was quite eerie, and Gu Deng was stunned for a while before speaking, “What are you doing?”

The use of “you” was a bit inappropriate, but Zhang Li didn’t correct Gu Deng and instead put his hand behind his back, saying, “Nothing.”

This attitude made it seem even stranger.

Gu Deng looked at the whale and then at Zhang Li, incredulous, “Are you picking barnacles off the whale?”

Zhang Li had his own logic, “If you pick them off, they’re gone.”

Gu Deng: “…”