Yes, I did exist. I was there. I existed.
Zhang Xiao looked at the painting and her tears fell unchecked, hot and strangely alive, on her cheeks. Seeing proof that she had indeed lived and breathed in the past, she felt a strange awning at the pit of her stomach, swallowing her whole being, until she almost felt like sobbing. She looked at each of the prince's faces, remembering each one's final fate, and her heart contracted even more.
And then she could finally put it off no longer, and her eyes focused on the figure on the left holding a teacup fashioned in the shape of a magnolia. The person she had longed for until Ruoxi's eventual death, and it seemed, even until 300 years after. She reached out a shaking hand, unable to stop herself from wanting to touch that most beloved face.
The sound of footsteps behind her stopped her. Suddenly it was too quiet. She realized that there was no one in that part of the museum except for her, and that person who just came in. Trembling, she lowered her hand and turned around despite herself. A tall man in a dark coat stood with his back to her, looking at another display case.
Zhang Xiao couldn't breathe.
Probably feeling that someone was looking at him, the man finally turned. His and Zhang Xiao's eyes meet across the room.
Zhang Xiao felt the room swim across her eyes. She felt the edges of unconsciousness nearly overcome her, and fought against it. She mustn't look away. She knew that man, knew him! She would recognize that man anywhere.
Yinzhen!
A sob broke from Zhang Xiao's throat. Memories of love and longing came rushing to the fore, uncontrolled. She had waited everyday until he came, and he never did. But now, he's here, standing right in front of her!
The man looked at her concernedly, and after a second of deliberation it seemed, began walking towards her with careful, measured steps. When he was finally right in front of her, he searched her face questioningly:
"Do we know each other?"
Hearing that voice, deep and achingly familiar, stirred Zhang Xiao more than anything she saw and remembered that day. She couldn't stop herself and began crying in earnest as she drank in the face of the man before her: those same fathomless eyes, the straight nose, the thin line of lips, the slight indentation at the curve of his cheek that hinted at a dimple during one of his rare smiles… Zhang Xiao felt a crushing pain in her chest; her heart felt like breaking.
At the sight of her tears, the man began to look discomfited. As if unsure what to do, he began searching his coat pockets for something, and Zhang Xiao belatedly realized that he might be looking for a hanky to give her to wipe her tears away.
"What are you most afraid of?"
"A woman's tears."
Zhang Xiao remembered every single word, every single moment with Yinzhen. If there had been any doubt in her mind that this person might not be him, then seeing him now ill-at-ease and awkward as he watched her cry, was the final proof that Zhang Xiao needed to be certain that it was really and truly him.
The man, it seemed, could not find what he was looking for. For a moment, he looked at her confusedly and was about to say something more. But instead he gave Zhang Xiao a small, embarrassed smile, and began walking away.
Zhang Xiao, as if on instinct, whirled around and opened her mouth to call out to him. But at the sight of his retreating back, Zhang Xiao realized she didn't know what to say. What can she say, when he obviously didn't know her, didn't have the terrible and beautiful memories of their past together like she did?
And then Zhang Xiao remembered how Ruoxi had waited, waited for him until her last breath, and yet he didn't come. Those last words spoken between them rang in her ears like a curse.
"I won't see you anymore."
Did he hate her, until the end? Or did he not care at all; that the news of her dying did not concern him at all?
As the man walked away, his figure became blurry, and Zhang Xiao realized that her eyeglasses had become foggy. Weakly she removed them, and the sight of him became nothing but a haze of colors, slowly disappearing. She saw him pause at the corner, but her vision didn't allow her to see what went on in that face- was he bewildered? Unconcerned? But he continued on, and then it didn't matter because he was gone.
Zhang Xiao felt as if all her energy had been sapped away, and her knees buckled. Her hand caught the edge of the glass display, steadying her, but her eyes caught something. The painting.
And very clearly she saw in her mind her own figure in that painting, the magnolia hairpin carefully tucked in her braid. In quick progression she remembered the second time he gave the pin to her, how he had gently put it in her hair, how his eyes, filled with love, admired her and told her she looked beautiful. And finally she understood that nobody but the two of them knew about that pin, how it had meant to both of them. And thus, no one could have commissioned this painting to be done exactly this way, but him!
He had never forgotten. He didn't hate her. He had forgiven her!
As if woken from a trance, Zhang Xiao righted herself. Forgetting even to put on her glasses, she stumbled through the corridor, following the direction he took. She was panicking. What if he already left and she couldn't catch him in time? What if she never found him again? Zhang Xiao half-sobbed as she raced around the corner, hating herself for that moment's indecision, wondering if this could possibly cause another lifetime of regrets.
But as she reached the other side, she crashed into another person going the same direction from which she came from. Strong arms steadied her, which she nearly threw aside, before seeing who they belonged to. Her spectacles fell from her useless hands, the sound of breaking glass echoing dully in that deserted hallway.
"Are you alright?"
He, Yinzhen, stared at her, his brows furrowed in concern. Zhang Xiao must've looked a fright, wild-eyed, with copious tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn't care. He came back. He didn't go away! She lowered her head and clutched tightly at the hands that held her up, weeping silently. Of joy, of longing, of thankfulness. Never again, she swore. She decided that whatever happened in the future, these hands, she would never let them go.
They sat together on a narrow bench just outside the museum. Zhang Xiao had finally stopped crying, the last of her tears mopped away by the tissue he found for her when he left the first time. Zhang Xiao raised her eyes to the man sitting beside her. He had a curious expression on his face as he looked at her- a mixture of concern and uncertainty. He handed her a bottle of water, which she gently accepted.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yes."
They didn't say anything for awhile. The deepening twilight tinged their surroundings with a golden hue, and for a moment they let themselves be bathed in the warmth of the dying sun, before the cold autumn wind enveloped them again, and the nearby lampposts flickered into life.
Finally, Zhang Xiao spoke, her voice low and tremulous.
"I'm sorry, startling you like that. I…"
She trailed off, unsure of what to say next. Now that the initial shock and happiness had faded, she wondered what one should say to someone one has loved for more than one lifetime, but one who did not recognize, nor remember, his past lover.
He caught her eye, the side of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. He raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for her to continue.
Zhang Xiao gulped. Her hands suddenly felt sticky. Surprised, she realized she was nervous. This man before her was no longer an Emperor, but to him, she was a stranger, and an odd one at that, weeping in his arms for no apparent reason. She didn't want to drive him away thinking she was crazy. Just as she had been in the past, she also had to be careful now.
"I'm Zhang Xiao."
He repeated her name, giving her a long, assessing look, before he calmly extended her a hand. Zhang Xiao hesitated, feeling self-conscious, and looked at the proferred hand, the one she had grasped passionately earlier. Carefully she took it, this hand that was cold and yet terribly missed.
"I'm Liang Jianyu."
Jianyu. Yinzhen. She kept his new name in her heart. It may be different now, but there was no doubt that their souls were one.
"Well, if you're sure you're alright…" Jianyu made as if to get up. Zhang Xiao, startled, quickly followed suit. She couldn't let him leave! How could she, when the heavens have finally given them this chance to meet again. If he left and she didn't see him again, she wouldn't be able to bear it.
"Wait!" The words "don't go" were at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them back. She composed her demeanor and said very calmly:
"May I have your number, please?"
His eyes widened slightly, probably stunned at her straightforwardness. There was an awkward beat or two, and Zhang Xiao knew he was going to refuse, so she cut him off.
"Please, don't think anything of it. I just wanted to thank you." She gestured at the water bottle and tissue, then gave him a weak smile.
"I was crying earlier because you reminded me of someone I knew very well. Any stranger wouldn't have cared…" She winced at the implication, but plodded on. "But you didn't. I really appreciate that. You were very kind."
All throughout this, Jianyu's expression was unfathomable. Coupled with the gloom of impending nightfall, Zhang Xiao found it hard to make out what was going through his mind. But there was nothing she could do now but wait. She had laid her cards on the table. If he refused, then she was left with only one other choice.
"Alright."
Zhang Xiao realized she was holding her breath. She let out an inward sigh of relief while Jianyu fished for his phone. She took out hers and they exchanged numbers. When that was done, she tried to look at his face again to try and decipher what he thought of this situation, but it was half-hidden in shadows. She gave up and consoled herself with the thought that she already had his contact information, she could see him anytime she desired.
With a polite goodbye, he turned around and began walking away. Zhang Xiao looked at that broad back, fighting the urge to run and embrace him. She felt a burning sensation at the back of her throat, as her eyes stung with fresh tears. She reminded herself that this was not goodbye, that they were both alive, in the same city, with no throne, no country, no Qing society between them. They could start anew, with a clean slate between them.
She tore her eyes away from him, but before she could, she saw him stop and turn around. He was nearly a hundred yards away, but Zhang Xiao knew he was also looking at her. Embarrassed that he caught her still staring, she averted her gaze. It was probably only a few seconds, but to Zhang Xiao it felt like a long time, before he finally turned away and left for real this time.
Zhang Xiao sat on that bench for a long time. The dark blue sky had turned midnight black, but she barely noticed, so lost was she in thoughts both horrible and wonderful that she didn't even notice how cold she had become. When she could finally stand the oppressing darkness any longer, she stood up, hopeful. And very very sad.
In the course of that hour, Zhang Xiao had thanked the heavens for bringing him back to her. Yet bitterly, she also acknowledged that that man…
That man did not love her.
