One Night, One Day, One Year, One Lifetime

Nine

I sat on the passenger seat in the car next to Gao Fei, watching him drive. The night breeze flitted through my outstretched fingers soothingly.

It was now in the dead of the night. On the road, there were few people and even fewer cars.

The hazy yellow of the street lamps mingled with the fog in the air. Our car travelled alone on the winding path leading to the summit of the mountains. I was heading for the peak of this city with the person I loved most. I heard that this was the closest place there was to the skies, so I wouldn't need to exert too much energy to ascend to the Heavens.

Slowly, I saw the horizon of the city begin to fade into the shadows. My breath formed vapours against the glass of the windows.

I used my camera to take a photo of myself. Under the caress of the gentle breeze, as I journeyed past the little grasses and tall trees lining the road, sitting beside the person I loved, I tucked my photo between two pages of the book I had brought along.

I needed a perfect portrait of myself. This was not for Gao Fei, but for myself, after I died.

Gao Fei parked the car at the summit. All around us was a quiet stillness. Here, there was no moonlight, no sunlight, only the light from his eyes.

Gao Fei lowered his gaze and stared closely at me. I smiled at him.

We left the car and waited for the sun to rise.

I held my book as I read its poems to Gao Fei, a line and a sentence each time.

On the summit of the mountains, Gao Fei and I were alone. We were surrounded by an endless fog, and as we looked at the mountain ridges which seemed to stretch on forever, it seemed as though the both of us had crossed into an entirely different world by ourselves.

I read to him Li Yu's Crows Crying at Night, Sima Guang's Moon of the Western River, Zhou Bangyan's Broken Cycle, and He Zhu's Melody to the Green Jadeite Bowl.

All of these love poems were read through my contented lips. I thought that they were beautiful. I said to Gao Fei that I did not seek a next life, did not regret this life, and now, did not even wish to own the rest of his life.

Eventually, Gao Fei would be like a normal person, his life returning to the way it had been before he had the misfortune to cross paths with me. And I would no longer be in this world, never to enjoy an old age.

The first rays of the morning sun began to fade away;

The trees and vines continue to grow.

I searched the book for Tsangyang Gyatso's work, and read to Gao Fei his poem, 'That Night'.

Halfway through the poem, I no longer had any strength left. Yet I said with all the righteousness and petulance within me, 'Gao Fei, I'm tired. I'm going to sleep, and you must not wake me up. If you do, I will definitely ignore you forever.'

Gao Fei tensed, but his body remained warm and comforting as he engulfed me into his embrace, murmuring in assent.

I thought that this must be the last time I would be able to feel the warmth of Gao Fei's hug. I huddled closer into his embrace, and whispered, 'Gao Fei, when the sun rises, you must not look at me.'

Gao Fei nodded.

'Gao Fei, when the moon rises, still, you must not look at me.'

He nodded.

I said, 'Gao Fei, I really liked what you said to me that morning.' Some words, if they were never vocalised, would never become true.

Exhaustion settled deep into my bones. Slowly, I closed my eyes.

I saw the morning sun begin to rise, their golden rays permeating through the fog swirling around the mountains. My body grew heavy; my soul began to soar.

I raised my head and stared at Gao Fei. The book of poems held within his hands contained the last verse of Tsangyang Gyatso's poem in the pages behind my photo:

That moment, I ascended to the Heavens and became immortal, not for an eternal life, but to watch over you for a lifetime of peace and happiness ...

I had lived through this night, this day, this year and this lifetime only for this moment...

Some thoughts:

This marks the end of the main text (He Yujin's story).

Towards the end, when He Yujin said, 'Gao Fei, I really liked what you said to me that morning.' Some words, if they were never vocalised, would never become true. – The words Gao Fei had never vocalised were 'I love you'. On the day of their wedding, he vowed that he would never say them to He Yujin.

Before He Yujin died, she said that she liked the way Gao Fei refused to say these words even at the very end, because if Gao Fei had never said them, they will never become true. Only if Gao Fei did not love her would he be able to move on after her death...

Only in the last moments of her life did He Yujin finally understand how to let go. From her extreme, obsessive love to, at last, truly wishing for Gao Fei's life to return to the way it would have been if she had never barged into his life... In the end, she understood what it meant to love a person, and hoped for him to continue living his life in happiness even if she would never be a part of his life ever again. The unsaid last words of Tsangyang Gyatso's poem was her last wish – to die at the summit of the mountains, the closest place there was to the skies, so she could ascend to the Heavens, not for an afterlife, but to watch over Gao Fei for a lifetime of happiness when his life finally returned to the way it had been after she died.

But it's too late. The marks she left in Gao Fei's life can no longer be erased... and this, we will see in the extra stories, Gao Fei's arc, which was also my favourite part of the book.