My Romance With The Cold-Blooded Heartthrob - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

During the evening training session the next day, Lin Fei clapped her hands, looking slightly distracted as she spoke. The topic for today’s brainstorming session is we’ll have thirty minutes to prepare. You’ll choose your own sides, and after thirty minutes, provide an opening statement and engage in a free debate. Is that clear to everyone?

Alright, let’s begin.

Xia Yang quickly nudged Lin Fei. You haven’t even announced the topic yet. What exactly are they beginning?

My apologies, Lin Fei said with a slight note of regret. The topic is: There is a button that can resurrect the person you love most. Do you press it, or not?

Hearing this, Pei Xian—who had been sitting lazily in his chair—snapped upright. His eyes involuntarily darted toward Wen Shu. Wasn’t this topic like rubbing salt into Wen Shu’s wounds? But according to what Wu Yue said yesterday, Lin Fei shouldn’t know about his past.

Wen Shu’s pen stopped. After a long moment, he realized the ink from his fountain pen had bled into a large black blotch on his notebook. He hurriedly flipped to a clean page. Why choose this topic all of a sudden? In his memory, Lin Fei wasn’t usually interested in such emotional prompts.

No reason, I just saw it yesterday and thought it would be good for them to try, Lin Fei smiled. Let’s discuss it among ourselves, too. She then asked seriously, Wen Shu, which would you choose?

Me? Wen Shu looked startled. He shook his head. I don’t know. He tried his best to press his trembling hands against the table to hide them and shifted the subject. “What about Xia Yang?

Me? Xia Yang thought about it carefully. I wouldn’t press it. First, the definition of ‘the person you love most’ is too restrictive. Life has different stages; how do you know you won’t love someone even more later? Second, resurrection is a violation of natural laws. If everyone had that power, the consequences would be unimaginable.

I wouldn’t either, Lin Fei said earnestly. I believe some things are meant to pass when it’s their time. This button can’t truly change the essence of things, so I wouldn’t press it.

Wow, are you two being that serious? Wen Shu, you haven’t said which side you’re on yet.

I would press it, Wen Shu said, repeating himself as he scribbled notes. I would press it. I would definitely press it. No matter the cost, he would push that button.

“Well, looks like you’re on the opposite side from us again. But look at the topic—just one. You can only bring back one person. My ‘opponent’ friend, can you be so sure at this stage who the person you love most is?

“I’m not sure, but I would press it because— Wen Shu couldn’t even focus on the logic of the debate anymore. He only knew that if such an opportunity truly existed, he would try it no matter what. He missed them so much—so much that he usually didn’t dare to even think about them.

The clock chimed, breaking the silence. Wen Shu looked at his two quiet companions and stood up, forcing himself to be steady. “Alright, time’s up. Opening speakers for the affirmative and negative sides, please begin.

Hello everyone, I am Su Yang, the first speaker for the affirmative. Our position is that if there were a button to resurrect the one I love most, I would press it. I will explain this from three perspectives. First, our definition of resurrection is giving the deceased the right to live. It seems like an absurd concept, but in ancient times, tuberculosis was an incurable death sentence, whereas now it is commonplace… Second, this technology represents true equality. It is no longer a privilege for the wealthy or the elite; everyone has this right… That concludes our opening statement. Thank you.

Next, the first speaker for the negative.

Wen Shu was surprised to see Lin Fei and Xia Yang looking just as shocked as he was. He hadn’t expected Pei Xian to take the lead as the first speaker.

Hello everyone, I am Pei Xian, the first speaker for the negative. Our position is that I would not press the button. Pei Xian stood up, meeting Wen Shu’s gaze. “First, this technology is neutral, but it turns love into a shackle. It turns love into a transaction of interests. It doesn’t change the nature of death. A person doesn’t love only one person in a lifetime. If you save one person now, only to realize later that someone else needs it more, wouldn’t that lead to a lifetime of regret? Furthermore, the button gives us the result without explaining the process. In what state does a terminally ill person return?… That is our view. Thank you.

Alright, let’s move into the free debate.

The negative side says the technology is neutral, but the technology already exists. If you don’t use it, you save no one. Isn’t that more regrettable?

Pei Xian stood up immediately, holding back his teammate Song Shiyu. Our point is that while the technology isn’t ‘wrong,’ why force everyone to make a choice? Wouldn’t it be better if everyone had immortality?

We are discussing this specific technology—simply whether or not to choose it.

But there are no specific regulations. If people started selling their ‘right’ to press the button online, it would only widen the gap between the rich and the poor.

Su Yang caught the loophole and countered: There is already a black market for human organs. Should we cancel organ transplants because of that?

Pei Xian pressed Song Shiyu down again as the teammate tried to stand. Wen Shu noticed this and took a mental note. The essence of these two things is different. Before ethical issues are resolved, a good technology can become a cruel policy. We should cherish love, not let it become something impure.

The negative side says love might become impure, but love itself is hard to obtain. There is no love in this world without a cause; it is something we must strive for.

Pei Xian was momentarily stumped. Song Shiyu seized the moment to pivot: So your side believes love is paramount?

Yes.

But if you bring someone back against their will just because of your own ‘love,’ that is a form of harm.

The affirmative side is out of time. Negative side, you have ten seconds.

Pei Xian stood up one last time. Therefore, we believe that death is not the end; forgetting is the true end. As long as you remember them in your heart, they haven’t truly left. Everyone has milestones at every station of life. They are simply no longer at this station. They are still there, in your heart. They never truly left. Thank you.

time is up for the negative.

Lin Fei nodded with satisfaction. Very well done, everyone. To bring the debate to this level of depth is impressive. However, Pei Xian, that moment you were stuck would affect the judges’ scores. In those moments, you can pivot your answer while throwing a question back at them.

Lin Fei and I both agree with the negative side because we don’t have the right to decide the life and death of others. Bringing someone back is often just satisfying one’s own desires, Xia Yang summarized, then nudged Wen Shu. Captain Wen, you’re on the affirmative side. What do you think?

I would press it, Wen Shu said without hesitation. Call it selfish or greedy, I just want to see them one more time. Even if they are old, even if they have to endure the pain of parting all over again I want to see them once more, hug them once more, and tell them how much I love them.” Wen Shu lowered his head to hide his tear-filled eyes, steadying his breath. So, I would press it.

Alright, everyone take a break and we’ll prepare for the next session.

Wen Shu tapped Xia Yang’s shoulder. I’m stepping out for a moment.

Wen Shu walked out of the training room with forced casualness. As soon as he rounded the corner behind the room, his knees buckled. He slid down the wall slowly. Forgetting is the true death, he whispered with a self-deprecating laugh. He then covered his mouth tightly as tears slid silently down his face. I haven’t dared to think about it for so long Grandpa, Grandma, I haven’t forgotten you. I just I didn’t dare to think of you. His hand involuntarily struck the wall as a sob escaped. I miss you so much.

It felt like a pair of hands were squeezing his heart, making it impossible to breathe. His memories flashed like a revolving lantern—every detail he had been too afraid to revisit. He felt like a coward, a man who only knew how to hide behind walls of copper and iron. No thinking, no mentioning, no getting close to anyone—as if that could prevent the hurt.

Suddenly, a warm embrace wrapped around him. The scent of cigarettes and a soft, familiar touch. It was Pei Xian.

Stop crying,18 Pei Xian said, his voice thick with his own suppressed sobs. He squeezed the words out, repeating them over and over. Stop crying.

Buried in Pei Xian’s arms, Wen Shu tried to regain control as he always had. He had always been so good at it. But Pei Xian didn’t say anything; he just held him tight. When Wen Shu heard that Pei Xian’s voice sounded even more pained than his own, he broke. He let go of everything. Looking back on that period of time, he realized he hadn’t allowed himself to cry once. Not even once.

Pei Xian felt the warm moisture soaking through his shirt. The thought of Wen Shu huddled in this dirty corner, trying so hard to muffle his own sobs, made his heart ache unbearably. Wen Shu was only a year older than him—why did he have to carry so much? The more he thought about it, the more Pei Xian found himself overcome with sadness.

After a while, Wen Shu regained his composure. He pulled back from the embrace, feeling a bit embarrassed, and sniffled. Sorry for getting your shirt wet. When he looked up, he saw Pei Xian’s face covered in tears, looking far more disheveled than he did. He couldn’t help but chuckle. How are you crying harder than me?

Pei Xian couldn’t stop hiccuping yet, but he still tried to act tough. I’m not crying. It took another long moment for him to calm down. Seeing the redness at the corners of Wen Shu’s eyes, he looked at Wen Shu’s hand with concern. Don’t hit the wall next time. Hit me. I’m thick-skinned. Pei Xian carefully wiped away a stray tear from Wen Shu’s lashes, then hid his hand behind his back. Let’s go.

Wen Shu looked at him, startled. You’re not going to ask what happened? He had prepared himself for an interrogation, even rehearsing various excuses, but Pei Xian didn’t ask a single thing.

I’m not that nosy. If you want to talk, you will. Pei Xian straightened up and started walking ahead. He didn’t dare turn back, afraid that if Wen Shu saw his own lingering sadness, it would put pressure on him.

However, a tug on his sleeve made him turn around in surprise. He looked over to see Wen Shu’s hand gripping a small corner of his shirt. Wen Shu’s face was a little flushed, his eyes still swollen and pitiable. Then you can’t tell them I cried.

Pei Xian’s heart melted instantly.a