Song of Silent Promise

1. The Forgotten

In fact, would he ever come to know that her name, Meng Shuang, was not even her real name? And that his name, Shi Yan, was actually a manifestation of her innermost selfish conscience, corroded with guilt? Because despite what he had wished for back then, she would not let him go.

[十年生死两茫茫，不思量，自难忘。 "Ten years of separation, life and death caused us sunder."]

Would he ever know that ten years was a mere brief winter, a quiver of butterfly's wings, just a short cicada's life, compared to their actual separation?

[千里孤坟，无处话凄凉。"Despite not trying to remember, forgetting is hard."]

Would he ever know, that she was the one who had caused him to forget?

Would he ever know, that now she, in turn, wanted to forget him because of that?

Now, after all those years... . Now, she finally understood just a little bit of what he might have felt.

That everything, had just become too tiring.

Even loving someone, pining for someone, had become too painful.

Nevertheless, she still remembered, despite wanting to forget. The oath she had made to him those years ago, when he was not yet a 'promise', when she was not yet just a coward only daring to dream during the cold winter.

Her name was but a reminder for her to settle her debt; his name was but a reminder for her to keep her oath, despite how he had forgotten about it.

She just hoped, even this impending death – death that would just be a temporary sleep – would be one that'd be long enough, to grant the both of them the necessary courage.

Courage to let each other go.

Her lips quivered slightly, bringing a flicker of hope to manifest in his dark eyes. He pulled her closer, bringing his ears closer to her snow-white lips. She did not know if he would be able to hear, but she hoped he did,

"You are not him."

Such were the four words that she always told him times and again, until the both of them reached this very day.

A tiny tear drop escaped the corner of her eyes. She would never let him know what she had always kept in her heart. Just like the forgotten oath drowned by his death that had long passed, she hoped he would never know.

"You are not him. You are him. It's always him. It's always you."

Because she would never want him to live as she had been living. Bound by a promise that would never be fulfilled. She had reached her resolution. Only in front of death's door did she finally gain the courage to release him.

But a human is always a creature of greed. Before she closed her eyes and opened that heavy door – the door of death that was now as light as feather, she wistfully wished, she prayed.

That he would no longer hate her, hate what she had become, hate what she had made him be.

As her soul finally let go of the last string of reluctance, she held her head high and pushed the door open. She stepped inside, towards the abyss of darkness that she welcomed as heartily as the warmest of sunrises. She wanted to sever the chain of promise that had shackled her for five hundred years.

As the door slowly closed behind her, she heard a whisper, light as breeze.

For anyone else, it might have been just a passing hallucination, a dream in a cold winter, just like her.