Where Winter is Warm Where Summer is Cool

It was now April in Paris and the weather was mild and pleasant. It had been six months since I’d gone back, and my mood was finally settled. In the end, my mother hadn’t been able to come see me. She probably hadn’t wanted to see me anyway seeing as how I had been a disappointment to her since childhood.

I had called and let her know I would not be going to Shanghai, and would instead go directly to France.

My mother’s response had been predictable. “Have a safe journey.”

In the past, I’d always wanted everyone’s acceptance, but I decided I didn’t want to be like that anymore. Now I don’t ask for extra information, I don’t ask if people like me, I don’t need others to defend me. All I ask for is peace of mind.

Painting helped give me that peace of mind.

One Saturday morning I took my easel and painting equipment to the courtyard of an old Gothic style church, and sat down to paint. Near the church was an old primary school and some students  came out to play. A few children came over to play near me, but not close enough to disturb me.

There were also several couples who had spread out their tablecloths on the grass to enjoy the rare sunny day.

After two hours of painting, my right hand could no longer hold the palette and I had to stop halfway through the painting to take a short break.

When I first came to France, I studied painting after my mandatory one year of language study. Because I’d started to paint from the age of six, I had learnt the basics and it was something I enjoyed.

But then in my sophomore year I couldn’t use my right hand anymore, and so I transferred to a major in media. Specifically, television ads.

I had only been able to study painting in France for a year and a half.

Because film and television advertising were also part of the art department, it was not a huge leap to make, but I regretted not being able to paint anymore. My condition had stopped me from being able to follow a career in something I loved.

When I returned to my dormitory in the afternoon, Mrs. Madan beckoned me over from a distance, her dry hair flying in the wind and her waxen face glistening in the sun.

She waited for me to walk up to her, before she said, “Anastasia my dear, someone is looking for you. He is an Oriental just like you, and he looks very beautiful! He’s been waiting for you all morning outside behind the dormitory.”

I didn’t know any Oriental men very well here, and the ones I did were only ones I nodded to as I walked past. I definitely didn’t know anyone well enough to come looking for me.

“Thank you, Mrs. Madan.”

As I headed to the back of the dormitory, I wondered who it could be.

My eyes widened in surprise when I saw Ye Lin standing on the lawn with his back against a tree. He was dressed in clean, white, civilian clothes, and his slightly long hair had been cut short making him look much more refreshed.

He raised his head as I walked towards him.

“When did you come to France?”

I realized with a jolt that I had approached him calmly and spoken first. Perhaps I really had let go of everything.

“Yesterday.”

“Oh, as part of Fashion Week?” As I said this, I realized that Paris Fashion Week had already happened in March.

Ye Lin looked at me for a while before he said lightly, “Are you free? Can you join me for a meal?”

“Okay,” I said, “But I have to go put my stuff down first.”

I pointed to the drawing board behind me.

“I’ll wait for you.”

I smiled and nodded.

When I reached my room, my Singaporean roommate was sitting on a chair tuning her guitar. Her Chinese name was Liang Aiwen, but she used the name Amelia. We usually conversed in Chinese.

“Ann, someone came looking for you this morning. He waited for a long time.”

“Yeah.” I went into the washroom to clean the paint that had gotten onto my hands.

My roommate seemed to relish the conversation. “Did you see him?”

“Yea.”

“I thought he’d gone. Honestly, he’s really handsome. Is he a relative?”

“No.”

Feeling a bit chagrined that my sleeves had also gotten stained with paint, I walked to my wardrobe and pulled out a woollen jacket,before going back into the washroom.

“Boyfriend?”

“No.”

I didn’t usually like these kinds of probing questions, but I answered anyway.

“Ha, Ann, give me his phone number!”

When I got changed and came out of the washroom, Amelia was standing in front of the door with a pen and paper, looking excited.

“Since he’s not your boyfriend, it’s okay for me to pursue, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh and I reminded her rather practically, “He’ll probably be back in China soon.”

“Distance is not an issue.” She waved her hand indifferently.

I hadn’t expected her to say that.

“I don’t know his number.”

Amelia frowned, muttering “But he was a prince in a black suit….”

A black suit? 

That didn’t make sense. Ye Lin was wearing white. Where did the black suit come from?

I shook my head, denying the tendril of suspicion forming in my heart.

I took Ye Lin to an Italian restaurant not far from the university.

“The food at this restaurant is pretty good,” I said.

“Come here often?”

“I used to work here.”

Taking a sip of my drink, I asked, “Are you staying long in Paris?”

“No, I’m only here for two days.” His face reflected in the dim light looked a little sombre.

“It’s a busy few days for me, otherwise I’d show you around Paris.” I said honestly.

There was a period of silence as neither of us spoke for the next few moments.

Then, he broke the silence with, “I’m getting married.”

I felt slightly taken aback.

“Mmm,” I stirred the spaghetti on my plate, “congratulations then.”

“Jian Anjie, the last thing I want from you is this congratulations.”

Ye Lin looked at me with a stubborn expression in his eyes.

“But, Ye Lin, all I can give is this congratulations.”

He suddenly pressed his hand to his forehead and laughed.

“You really don’t care about me anymore.” He looked at me. “Don’t be afraid, I won’t be coming to pester you again, but I just wanted to be able to come once. I wanted to come many times before, but I couldn’t. And now that I can, it’s too late.

“My parents are drunkards and gamblers. That year that you left for France, I wondered, how much does it cost to go abroad? Five hundred thousand? One million? At the time I didn’t even have fifty dollars and we owed thousands to so many people.”

I stared at him. “I had no idea…”

“Of course you didn’t know, I wasn’t going to go crying to my girlfriend.”

He called to a waiter passing by.

“Get me a bottle of wine, I want to celebrate sitting and having dinner in France with the one I love.”

He was speaking in Chinese though. I apologized to the waiter and tried to get Ye Lin to stop talking, but he refused.

“Give me a bottle of wine, don’t you understand!”

“Okay, stop making trouble.”

“I’m not making trouble, I just want to celebrate. Am I not allowed to celebrate?”

Leaving me with no choice, I asked the waiter to bring us a bottle of wine, then sat and watched him drain glass after glass.

After half the bottle was gone, I stopped him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Ye Lin leaned his head onto the table.

“I feel like you grew up, but I stayed in our teen years.”

He stayed silent after that for so long, I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. I gently touched his forehead.

I’d spent my purest years with him, and I never regretted that. But the long river of time had come between us and we were both now burdened with unavoidable difficulties.

I got him into a taxi with the help of the waiter. Fortunately, he had his hotel card on him, and I was able to get him back safely. It was early morning when I left Ye Lin.

I will think of you as a spirit who came into my life six years ago, and I will remove all the grey areas and keep only those six pure years for you, so that in the future, when I think of you, I will smile and be satisfied.