The day of Liang He’s memorial service was rainy. Lin Shaohua drove Sima Qiuyun to the service, which was presided over by the president of the A City Academy of Fine Arts. The venue was decorated in a simple and elegant manner. Many important figures attended that day—not only from the art world but also heavyweight figures from the political and business sectors. Naturally, many students from the Academy were also present; some were choked with sobs, while others wailed aloud. In contrast, Sima Qiuyun appeared restrained and calm. She silently presented a wreath, bowed deeply, and then departed in silence.
Lin Shaohua felt shocked and regretful at the news of Liang He’s passing. In his impression, Liang He was still that refined, gentlemanly man who would routinely visit Qiuyun every month. He hadn't expected that a year later, the next news he would hear of him would be his death from illness. He knew Liang He was the Dean of the School of Oil Painting at the Academy, and he respected him for his persistence in visiting Qiuyun. However, the scale of today’s memorial and the caliber of the attendees still took him by surprise—it turned out Liang He’s academic status was so high and his social circle so vast. Coupled with his face, which looked much younger than his peers, his childless marriage, and the rumors that he had voluntarily given up treatment after falling ill, Lin Shaohua grew even more curious about this legendary figure of the Academy.
Lin Shaohua tried to talk to Sima Qiuyun about Liang He in the car, but she hadn't spoken since getting in. Before they had gone far, she leaned her head against the passenger window with her eyes closed, and he couldn't tell if she was asleep.
He opened his mouth to speak but ultimately gave up on the topic. On a rainy day, the quiet car cabin felt exceptionally stifling. He reached out and turned on the radio, tuning it to a music channel that happened to be playing a low, gender-neutral song.
“...
Yet fate is a strange word, leaving me burdened with solitude
...
Must a flower wait for fruit before it grows into a song?
Is love truly less worthy of praise than a Buddhist verse?
In a past life, I trudged through marshes to bloom in the cold for you
It is just as well if you do not recognize me amidst the passing crowds
...”
It was a slow-paced folk song accompanied only by a guitar. The melody was soothing and pleasant, but the lyrics sounded somewhat piteous and sorrowful. Perhaps because they had just left the memorial service and his emotions hadn't shifted yet, words like "reincarnation," "transgression," and "Buddha" inexplicably popped into Lin Shaohua's head. And that line, "It is just as well if you do not recognize me amidst the passing crowds," sounded like the empty sentimentality of a youth who had never known true suffering. He didn't want to make the atmosphere so tragic, so when they hit a red light, he reached out to change the channel. But before his hand reached the button, Qiuyun suddenly spoke: "Don't."
His hand paused. He turned to look; Qiuyun hadn't moved her posture, but she had opened her eyes at some point and was staring at the electronic screen ahead.
"You like this?" He withdrew his hand.
Qiuyun ignored him, her gaze fixed blankly on the screen.
It merely displayed the text "FM 96.8."
The light turned green, and the car started moving. There were only a few lines left in the song, and it soon finished.
"What is this song called?" Qiuyun asked suddenly.
"What? Oh—I don't know. It's my first time hearing it too."
Qiuyun stopped talking and closed her eyes again without a word.
"What's wrong?" Lin Shaohua glanced at her.
Qiuyun gave no reaction.
"Professor Liang He..." he began tentatively, "Please accept my condolences. He was a good teacher; I feel quite sorry as well. But the dead cannot return to life. Try to look on the bright side and don't be too sad."
After he finished, he heard no movement from the person beside him for a long time. Looking in the rearview mirror, he saw Qiuyun with her eyes closed, appearing as though she had truly fallen asleep.
A few more days passed, and it was time for the scheduled visit to Sima Feng in prison. After Lin Shaohua accompanied Qiuyun back from the prison, she said, "Come help me move my things tonight. I'm moving back home." Lin Shaohua was somewhat surprised and asked, "What about your friend...?" Qiuyun said, "He doesn't need me anymore." Lin Shaohua said, "Didn't you say before that he was seriously ill and needed someone to look after him...?" Qiuyun shook her head. "He passed away."
Lin Shaohua was even more surprised. They had just seen off Qiuyun's teacher, Liang He, a few days ago, and now another friend was gone. This... this period of time was simply too unlucky. But he didn't think much of it and helped Qiuyun move that night. When he brought up the matter of visiting his parents in C City again, Qiuyun said, "Fine, I'll follow your arrangements." Lin Shaohua immediately suggested tomorrow, and Qiuyun didn't hesitate, saying directly, "Okay."
Lin Shaohua's parents were both retired civil servants. The family owned two apartments in the urban area of C City—one for their own residence and one originally intended for Lin Shaohua. However, since Lin Shaohua had been in A City since graduation, his parents had provided the down payment for him to buy an apartment in A City a few years ago, and he was paying off the remaining mortgage himself. From this perspective, Lin Shaohua was much better off than Qiuyun in terms of family and material circumstances. When they arrived at the Lin family home in C City, Lin's parents were warm and generous, treating her extremely well, which made Qiuyun feel somewhat out of place. She asked Lin Shaohua if he had told his family about her situation. Lin Shaohua said he hadn't before, only telling them after she had agreed to the visit. Qiuyun was stunned. "Then how did your parents react?" Lin Shaohua said, "At first, they couldn't quite believe it and found it a bit hard to accept. They thought I was lying to them—after all, their son has been single for twenty-nine years. They all thought I liked men. To suddenly bring home such a beautiful woman, of course they found it hard to process."
Qiuyun was stunned again before realizing Lin Shaohua was joking to ease her psychological burden. She didn't know what to say. She was moved, but her eyes were parched and could no longer shed tears. Lin Shaohua took her hand and said solemnly, "I've had a heart-to-heart talk with my family; you don't need to worry. My parents are very, very good people. If I like someone, they will surely like her too."
Thus, the meeting between the four of them was very harmonious. Qiuyun had applied makeup to look sensible and elegant and wore a new dress Lin Shaohua had specifically bought for her; she looked gentle and beautiful. Lin Shaohua didn't look away for a long time, finally sighing, "So beautiful." Lin's parents were also satisfied with Qiuyun. She was pretty, gentle, quiet, and lovely. Coupled with the way Lin Shaohua looked at her with eyes full of love, the elderly couple was overjoyed, wishing the two of them could go register their marriage the very next day.
Lin Shaohua brought this up with Qiuyun on the way back. Qiuyun remained silent for a long time. She didn't explicitly refuse, only saying that the two families hadn't met yet and that Sima Feng would be released from prison next year. Hearing the words "next year," Lin Shaohua felt a knot in his chest. He said it didn't matter; once the matter was settled, his parents were extremely open-minded and could even go to the prison to visit him. He and Qiuyun could register their marriage first and hold the wedding after Sima Feng was released. There was still more than half a year, which was just enough time to slowly plan the wedding—booking the banquet, taking wedding photos, the honeymoon, and so on. There were so many things to be busy with. The more he spoke, the more excited he became, wishing he could grow wings and fly off right then to inspect hotels and organize everything. Qiuyun watched him quietly from the side as he spoke with high spirits. Finally, he stopped and laughed sheepishly. "Look at me getting so excited, I didn't even ask for your opinion." Qiuyun felt a pang of bitterness and smiled insincerely. "It's fine. I'll listen to you."
Another ten days or so passed, and Qiuyun resumed her previous job at the A City Museum. Although the work was devoid of interest, it was a stable position at a public institution. Even though Qiuyun had been away for so long, the unit could not lay her off. On the contrary, they warmly welcomed her return—for the unit, this was nothing less than a free piece of positive humanitarian publicity.
Life seemed to have truly returned to how it was before the car accident. Lin Shaohua picked up and dropped off Qiuyun from work every day as usual. Although she was still introverted and cold, spoke little, and treated people with indifference, she was also obedient in a way that made his heart ache. For some reason, a faint unease always lurked in Lin Shaohua's heart. He always felt that Qiuyun was somewhat different, but he couldn't say exactly how. Once, returning from a business trip, he rang the doorbell and got no answer. Opening the door, he saw her sitting on the sofa with earphones in, listening to music. He walked over quietly, wanting to give her a surprise, only to see her phone displaying a single song on repeat. The lyrics happened to be that line: "It is just as well if you do not recognize me amidst the passing crowds." At that moment, Qiuyun noticed the movement beside her and looked up sharply. Her large eyes were hollow in her pale face—this was an expression she hadn't had time to switch. Lin Shaohua asked her what was wrong, and she quickly returned to normal, merely saying she was sorry and hadn't heard the doorbell because of the music.
If she were truly like this, it would be one thing, but he had happened to see her lose control of her emotions: once when she had just woken up and went to the prison to see Sima Feng, and once when she returned from the cemetery and cried until she fainted. That Sima Qiuyun was clearly full and three-dimensional, brimming with emotion. It felt as if that Sima Qiuyun was the real her, while the current her always felt thin and fragile, like a paper cutout.
Oh, the cemetery. He remembered. Perhaps her mood had indeed been low lately. Meeting long-lost friends again only to find them in a cemetery; Professor Liang He leaving just like that; and then her other important friend passing away. In just this one month, there had been too many funerals around her. A low mood was only natural. But as long as she started working and re-engaging with society, the brief dark days would surely pass, and everything would get better.
Yes, it would get better. Sima Qiuyun thought so too. Other than thinking that, what else could she think? Or rather, she no longer had any thoughts at all. Liang He was gone; he was truly gone. She had personally seen him off, yet it wasn't until the day of the memorial service, seeing the overflowing grief and the bustling crowds, that she suddenly truly realized Liang He had really left her.
In this lifetime, they had missed each other forever.
Grief, sorrow, heartache, distress—perhaps even ten or twenty more such words, perhaps even searching through the entire Kangxi Dictionary, it would be difficult to find words that truly described Sima Qiuyun's inner feelings. From now on, in the space within the left side of her chest, that organ called the "heart" would only retain its biological functions. It would never feel anything else again; it would only beat stroke by stroke, veins flowing in, arteries pumping out, until it failed and retired.
But... but Liang He didn't know. To carry thirty years of someone else's waiting, unable to forget even if one wanted to, and then having to use every ounce of strength to pretend to start over, to struggle to respond to another person's heartfelt care... how difficult that was.
How cruel it was.
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| A市美院 | A City Academy of Fine Arts | |
| 丁克 | DINK | Double Income, No Kids; refers to a childless lifestyle. |
| 康熙大辞典 | Kangxi Dictionary | A famous historical Chinese dictionary. |
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If I Wait Thirty Years | Chapter 86 | The Burden of Memory | Novela.app | Novela.app
