Ashes Over Jiangnan

“The twenty-first day of the third month, in the year Guiwei. Rain. Back in Guiyun Prefecture. Tangtang stood beneath the covered walkway, dressed in the pale blue of sky and water. We had not seen each other for eight years. She was no longer a little girl. She called me ‘Brother Qingyan,’ her voice just as it had been in childhood, though her eyes darted away. I knew why. Three days ago, I received Mr. Shen’s final letter: ‘Huai Jin, our promise is void. Do not let Tangtang know. Let her marry an ordinary man and live out her days in peace.’ I agreed. But seeing her today, I finally understood the weight of that promise. I will have to keep up this act for the rest of my life.” Only one character was written at the end: Yan. “I cried, then laughed. I cried because it took me three years to understand you. I laughed because at last I understood, even if it was too late.” “Qingyan, I will never send this letter. There is no postman who can reach wherever you are. But I will carry it with me and come find you. Along the road to the underworld, beside the River of Forgetfulness, I will catch up with you and read this letter aloud. I want to tell you: I understand now. I no longer hate you. I forgive you, though you never needed my forgiveness. I love you. From the age of twelve to thirty-eight, from life to death, that has never changed. If there is another life… No, forget the next life. It is too far away. I’m afraid I won’t be able to wait that long. Let it be this life. In this life, I owe you a wedding, the words ‘I do,’ and a promise that we would grow old together. Now I’ve come to repay you. Wait for me. Tangtang’s final letter Night of the seventh day of the third month of spring, 1945” It turns out the most painful love is not loving someone you cannot have. It is being loved by the whole world without realizing it, then, only after losing that love, piecing together its full shape bit by bit over the long years that remain.