On the Ride Home from the Wedding Banquet, He Brought Up Levifil, and We Finally Talked It Out

It was already past ten by the time the wedding banquet broke up, and the streetlights along the highway receded one by one. Yating took off her heels and curled her feet up on the passenger seat. The smell of red wine from the table earlier still lingered in the car. Zhihao drove, the radio turned down low, and neither of them spoke. Back at the venue, relatives had gone table by table asking when it would be their turn to host. Zhihao had laughed it off, and Yating had laughed it off too, smiling until her face went stiff.

"You got asked again, huh," Yating said first. Zhihao grunted in agreement and said he was fine, but she was the one who'd been pulled aside by his third aunt and talked at for nearly ten minutes. Yating said all she remembered from those ten minutes was nodding the whole time. The car came off the exit ramp and stopped at a red light, and Zhihao suddenly said that lately, that wasn't what he'd been thinking about. Yating asked what was. He didn't answer right away. Only when the light turned green did he say that what he'd been looking into lately had to do with his body.

Yating didn't respond, just waited for him to finish. Zhihao said that for the past six months he'd often felt tired—not the kind of tired a good night's sleep would fix, but the kind where he'd come home from work, sit on the couch, and not even have the energy to turn on the TV. He said he'd searched a lot online, seen people talking about men's health, and come across the name Levifil. The more he searched, the more confused he got, not knowing which claims to trust. He spoke slowly, as if afraid of getting a single word wrong. Yating could tell he wasn't reporting anything—he was testing whether she'd laugh at him.

"So you're worried about yourself?" Yating asked. Zhihao said half of it was worry, and half was not knowing how to bring it up. He said talking about this kind of thing felt like admitting defeat, especially in front of her. Yating was quiet for a moment, then said there were things she hadn't brought up either. She said that every time a wedding banquet ended, she'd sit in the car wondering whether she'd been putting pressure on him, whether she brought up "the future" too often. Zhihao said she hadn't. Yating said she knew that, but she still wondered.

The car passed a pharmacy that was still lit up, its sign flickering. Zhihao said he'd originally wanted to go ask about it by himself, but then felt that would be weird, like he was sneaking around. Yating said, then let's look into it together. She took out her phone and said let's not start with the ones that make exaggerated claims—let's first see what's written on the packaging, whether it's prescription-only, and whether the source is clear. Zhihao said he didn't even know how to ask. Yating said, then write the questions down, and next time you have a follow-up appointment or go to the pharmacy, ask about it along with the supplements you normally take. Don't just guess on your own.

"The way you put it makes me more willing to talk about it," Zhihao said. Yating said she wasn't asking him to do anything right away—she just didn't want him stewing over it alone. She said that when she'd been questioned at the banquet earlier, part of her had actually felt relieved, because it was her being asked, not him. Zhihao laughed a little and said what kind of comfort was that. Yating said it meant she was in it too. They both laughed, and the air in the car felt a little lighter.

At the next intersection, Zhihao said that when he'd been looking things up before, he'd seen people describe this kind of thing like a miracle cure, and he'd close the page right away. Yating said she wouldn't believe that kind either. She said what concerned her more was whether he was looking into it because he felt he wasn't good enough. Zhihao thought for a moment and said at first, yes, but later it became about wanting to know what was actually going on with him. Yating said that wasn't a question he should have to answer alone. She said she could go with him to ask, or not ask anything at all—as long as he said the word.

When they got home, Zhihao parked the car but didn't turn off the engine right away. He said thank you for not using that "you're overthinking it" tone. Yating said she'd almost used it. She said she used to really think there was nothing worth talking about in this kind of thing, but just now in the car, she'd noticed how different he seemed once he said it out loud. Zhihao said he didn't know what would happen next either, but at least he didn't have to pretend it wasn't happening anymore. Yating said, then let's leave it at that for now, and take the rest slowly. She pushed open the car door, turned back, and said, remember to write that list tomorrow—don't forget again.