Where Winter is Warm Where Summer is Cool

The white walls, white sheets, and the smell of disinfectant in the ward were all very familiar, except this time, it wasn’t me lying in the bed. I stood near his haggard-looking, sleeping figure staring down at his pale face. It was lined with soft facial lines, the usual arrogance gone.  I dropped my gaze to his right hand, which was thickly wrapped in gauze.

“The switch to open the slate on the ground is damaged. Unless someone keeps pressing it, it will be closed.”

I’d learned new information during the rescue earlier that he hadn’t mentioned before.

“The patient has a small amount of bleeding in the chest cavity, the right caudal finger tendon is ruptured, the back of the hand is severely injured, and the palm has a deep wound that requires suture surgery.”

The news I’d learned from the doctor had kept me silent for a long time. When we fell, he had protected me. He’d fallen very hard but never said anything.

Truth and falsehood, ring after ring, carefully playing the cards in his hand, using, deceiving, and moving emotions, until finally, even his own life had been risked.

If I had let him go, would I have regretted that he was buried there like that?

Such a savvy person becomes almost clumsy when dealing with feelings.

His eyes opened slowly, and when he saw me, his face looked a little surprised.

“Anjie…” His voice was hoarse and hard, and he reached out to take my wrist.

“I’ll call a doctor,” I said, trying to calm myself down.

“Wait,” he said, struggling to sit up, “I’m fine, don’t go.”

His conscious presence was making me uncomfortable.

“Xi Xichen, I will not accept your love just to be grateful.”

“I know,” he said, “I just didn’t think you would come back.”

“Your bitter trick was very successful,” I mocked slightly.

Everything I experienced during those moments after the slab closed was still a little surprising to think about. If I hadn’t figured out his pain was not in fact fake, if I hadn’t had enough “heart softness” as he’d said…

When the police and medical staff had finally arrived, I’d found that my hand–still grasping the phone–was shaking.

“Because of…guilt?”

I looked at him blankly.

“Don’t test me.”

He gave me a wry smile.

“Anjie, is it useless for me to do anything?”

It may have been his injuries that made him look a little vulnerable at that moment.

“Xi Xichen, you need to go back to China and don’t come back again.”

If I don’t see you, I won’t think too much, neither love nor hate, just like it is with Ye Lin.

An inch of love sickness and an inch of gray, when the love sickness is exhausted, only ashes remain.

“I can’t do it.” He looked at me thoughtfully, and then he pulled my hand to his mouth and printed a kiss. I couldn’t help but feel flustered at the soft touch, “You have forgiven me, right?”

“I am not God, I can’t forgive anyone.”

He leaned his forehead onto the back of my hand and murmured, “You are…” I

didn’t catch the rest of the words clearly, “Now this is enough.”

I didn’t know that Xi Xichen was so easily satisfied. He was very strange to me.

“You should rest.”

Freeing my hand, I picked up my backpack off the ground and walked to the door.

“Anjie,” he said, stopping me, “I hope you know that I won’t do anything to make you sad. And…I’m sorry.”

I didn’t answer. I opened the door and walked out.

His last sentence, I’m sorry, was six years late, but yet it brought a sense of calm.

I went back to school and Liang Aiwen didn’t ask one question about my clothes

stained with mud as I walked into the room. We seldom got involved.

Except for the “Prince in a Suit” before.

After I took a shower, I couldn’t stop thinking of Xi Xichen lying on the bed.  Our time in the tunnel felt like an experience outside of reality.

I think it’s hard to forget things in this life. 

I’d received a message before from my aunt, asking me if I wanted to come to Finland to work and settle down after graduation.  I wasn’t not close to my mother, especially after her divorce, but my Auntie and I were close. It may have been because I had many similarities with her.

We both loved painting and had the same outlook on life–to win a person’s heart, and stay together for a hundred years without abandonment.

It was a pity that the two people who my aunt had loved all her life died young. Her first husband died in an accident on a construction site, and her second, Piao Zheng’s father, died of lung cancer.  My aunt has no heirs. Piao Zheng is her stepson.

Since I was the only descendant related to her by blood, she began to take great care of me, including my tuition–except for the money spent by Jian Zhenlin during my first year in France.

I had first told my aunt that I didn’t like life abroad. However, I now  understood that no matter where people lived, on the beach or in the desert, it was who was with them that was most important.

So I decided I would go to Finland because my dearest family was there.

Early the next morning, I went to the library to revise my graduation work. I hadn’t planned to visit Xi Xichen in the hospital again. In fact, it was already beyond my expectation how much things had developed so far.

But when I went back to the dormitory at noon to sort out some winter clothes and books to send to Finland, I found the suit. Now I was sure that the suit belonged to Xi Xichen because his English name in his passport was Elvis.

What’s more, his passport had records of entering and leaving France every year since I’d come here, either once or twice.

I’d thought I wouldn’t be going back to the hospital, but I had to return it to him.  He’d helped me back then, so the right thing was to give it back.

I thought to myself, It would be best if I could return things without seeing people.  I don’t know why, but now I am a little afraid to face him.

The hospital at night was much deserted than during the day. When I arrived at

the in-patient department’s service desk, I looked for the nurse on duty and explained the matter. As soon as she heard his name, she immediately answered without bothering to check on the computer.

“Elvis Xi has been discharged from the hospital, and the discharge procedures were handled in the evening.”

I was surprised. “Discharged?”

“Yes. But he left his address.” The nurse said and handed me a note.

I took it slowly.  He’d expected me to come?

My stubbornness when it came to accomplishing something I’d decided on, overpowered my anxiety at seeing him again. This trait always forced me to follow through on my decisions, no matter how difficult they seemed.

The address on the note was for a hotel by the Seine River. I took a taxi straight to the hotel and once I arrived, I walked to the front desk and handed the bag to the receptionist. “Please give this to Mr. Elvis Xi. He is staying at your hotel.”

He took it and glanced inside.

“A pretty good looking suit. Wait, is this a credit card?”

I forgot that French people were very sensitive about money.  Sure enough, he handed the bag back.

“I’m sorry miss, you should give it to him.” Then he checked the room number for me. “He’s at 1507. You can take the elevator up.”

I should have hidden the card.